THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS AS BASED ON I \ THE SCIENCE OF KNOWLEDGE BY THE SAME AUTHOR. SCIENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. Translated l.y A. E. Kkoegek, With an Introduction by Prof. W. T. Harris. Large Post Svo. 10s. Od. [Philosophical Library. SCIENCE OF RIGHTS. Translated by A. E. Knor.GEii. With ail Introduction by Prof. W. T. Harris. Large Post 8vo. 12s. 0'^ [Philosophical Library. POPULAR WORKS: The Nature of the Scholar, the Vocation of the Scholar, the Vocation of Man, the Doctrine of Religion, Clharacteristics of the Present Age, Outlines of the Doctrini o* Knowledge. With a Memoir by W. Smith. Two Volumes. Large Post 8vo. 21«. [Philosophical Library. London : Keoan Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., Ltd. The Science of Ethics AS BASED ON THE SCIENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. nv JOHANN GOTTLIEB FICHTK TIlANSLATED BY A. E. KROEGER. EDITED BY The Hon. Dr. AV. T. HARRIS, CUMM1S3I0NER OF EOUOATIO.M. LONDON: KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRtJBNER <^ CO., Ltd., DRYDEN HOUSE, GERRARD STREET, W. 1907 ( or 1 nr ^.ßr^n'Tol ^ ^K^' Bas Sydem der Sittenlehre nach den Frincipien der Wissenschaßslehrc, von Johann Gottlieb Fichte (Jena und Leipzig, 1798), together with an appendix containing a chapter on Ascetism, or practical moral culture, translated from the third volume of Fichte's posthumous works, published in Bonn, 1835, the same being a lecture given by Fichte in 1798 as an appendix to The Science of Morals, published in that year. This work, together with the Philosophy of Right, translated by Mr. Kroeger, and already pub- lished by Messrs. Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., gives the entire system of ethics as it stood in Fichte's mind. TJie Science of Morals gives the subjective side to ethics, and the Science of Rights gives the objective side, or the institutions founded to realize morals and protect the individual against attacks upon his freedom. The family, civil society, and the State are institutions which make secure the moral freedom of man. Fichte's writings form the classics of introspection. They furnish the best discipline for training in the ability to seize the activities of the mind and become conscious of their method. Anyone who reflects for a few minutes is competent to bear testimony to the difficulty in seizing the methods of mind-activity. It is comparatively easy to think of objects belonging to A 2 23754 vi EDITOR'S PREFACE. nature ; but the metliod of thinking ehijcs one, and it is not easy to make an inventory of the facts of con- sciotisness. Kant made an epocli in the history of philosophy by his searching investigation into the subjective co-e(iicient of knowledge. lie discovered what belongs essentially to the constitution of percep- tion and thought, and by this discovery was able to make a large contribution to rational psychology. ]'.y rational psychology one understands the necessary trutlis which are founded on the nature of the mind- itself. Fichte was singularly gifted for the work of acquiring Kant's methods and perfecting them. Almost every writing that is to be found in his complete works is an example of the Kantian method of introspection. There is everywhere an attempt at a separation of the transient and variable in the mental operation from tlie formal and permanent activity. This formal and permanent activity depends upon the logical structure of the mind, and does not vary : it furnishes us witli the universal and necessary truths which lie at the basis of metaphysics, psychology, and ethics. There is no possible way of giving the results of introspection in the form of objective observation. Introspection is not a substitute for objective observa- tion, nor is the latter a substitute for the former. The two modes of thinking involve different fundamental categories. Objective observation thinks in the form of time and space and external causation. Introspec- tion thinks in the form of self-activity, and its oljjects take the shape of feelings, volitions, or ideas. While objective observation sees things and dead results, intro- spection thinks persons and living beings. It is evident enough that a knowledge of nature as it is is not completed without introspection, for this operation enters as a factor in knowing all living beings, such as plants, EDITOR'S PREFACE. vii or animals, and men. But this use of introspection is unconscious. The Kantian and Pichtian introspection is conscious and systematic, and those wlio liavc used it much, or who liave attained to a familiar acquaint- ance with it, love to speak of it as scientific in- a higher sense of that word. Looking upon mathematics as systematic and strictly scientific, they would claim for the philosophic introspection a precision and strictness which exceeds that of mathematics. To anyone who obtains a first and superficial view of the history of philosophy it seems absurd to think of introspection as affording anything approaching the character of scientific system. There seems to be endless difference of opinion. Every thinker, however, arrives at convictions of his own, although he combats the convictions of his fellows. Those who attain to any mastery of the critical system of Kant, with its higher order of introspection, reach a series of necessary truths belonging within the sphere of rational psychology. Any candid student of the History of Philosophy, who has given much time to understand the different systems, will testify that the agreements of these thinkers are numerous, and of such a character as to demonstrate the claims made for the scientific character of the higher introspection. In so far as the amateur follows the mathematical demonstrations of Newton or Leibnitz, he is forced into agreement; he sees the insight of the mathematical author he is studying. So it is in the higher introspection: sufficient care and attention will discover to the reader the philosophical necessity which the insight of a Kant or a Fichte had attained. 'But just as there comes a point in the study of mathe- matics where the mind of the student stops before a realm of unexplored quantity, so there comes a place in philosophical introspection where the student stops, viii EDITOR'S PREFACE. being unable to take the next step, until further strength comes to him by further discipline. With philosophy, as with mathematics, it is true that the great positive results are attained in some form even in the elementary stages of thinking. God, freedom, and immortality, as olijects of philosophy, are reached in the ontology of Plato and Aristotle almost \vith the first speculative insight ; they are seen as the necessary presupposition of the world. The samo results, too, are seen very soon as the logical condition for the facts of introspection. One needs only to read the first hundred pages of Kant's Critiqiic of Pure Reason to see that his doctrine of time and space, which makes them to be subjective forms of the mind, at the same time establishes the transcendence of mind over nature ; for space and time are the necessary conditions for the existence of nature, and for all material existence, and all manifestations of life in plants and animals. But space and time themselves are forms in pure mind or pure reason. Hence pure reason furnishes the ground for time and space and for the realms of nature. Perhaps the greatest merit of the present work is Fichte's clear setting forth of the will in the first third of the book. Fichte sees clearly the autonomy and self-activity of the ego. He is able to describe this as a fact of consciousness. To him it is clear that the will can originate new determinations in the world. It is not a link in a chain of causality necessarily determined by what has gone before it. It can modify the chain of causality in which it finds itself, and initiate new forms of existence for which it alone is responsible. The idea of responsibility is the key to all questions relating to freedom. We are not responsible for that which we do not originate. Human beings are conscious that they are authors of deeds for which they are wholly respon- EDITOR'S PREFACE, ix sible. The institutions of civilization arc founded on this fact. Even those who arc ngnostics or sceptics in regard to the freedom of the will, do not go so far as to act on any other principle than that of freedom and responsibility on the part of their fellow-men. Tliey are partly of the conviction that their mental difTiculties are merely subjective. They are unable to square their intellectual conviction with their common-sense convic- tion, and they are almost willing to admit that tlie practical position is the correct one, and tlial the intellectual sceptism is due to weakness of insight. Kant shows in his Third Antimony that he admits equal validity to the two categories — first, that of external observation, and, second, that of higher introspection. It was only necessary for another thinker to show tliat the category of external observation has the. foundation of its validity in the category of higher introspection to refute the Third Antimony. A causality of deter- mination of succeeding events by prior events rests for its validity upon a higher causality of freedom. "Without a causality that originates in self-determination there could be no perseverance of causal influence, and consequently no chain of causality. Everything would belong to the side of effect, and nothing to the side of cause. This would be self-contradictory, for without a cause there could be no effect. Xant found that he was obliged to acknowledge this in his Critique of the Practical Reason, but he did not •see that the necessity belonged quite a« well to liis Critique of Pure Reason. To Fichte this became clear, ' and hence the Wissenschaftslehre, especially in its later forms, and hence, too, these works on the science of rights and the science of morals. Eichte's insight into freedom, as the condition both of the intellect and of the will, is the foundation-stone of the subsequent X EDITOR'S PREFACE. 2)hilosophies of Schelling and Ilogcl, in which the German movement initiated by Kant completes its union with those of Plato and Aristotle. Tiie psychology movement comes into harmony with the ontology movement, both reach the same highest principles, namely, tlie personality of God, human freedom and responsibility, individual immortality in an eternal church invisible. W. T. HARRIS. WAsniNOTON, D.C., December, 1896. CONTENTS TtiRCS in J. 0. Fichte, EOition, Werter Uaiid, 1-12 13-62 €3-150 157-205 ^06-253 25i-365 I^fTRODUCTION . • . . . l (Original pages 1-18.) Part I. Book I. Deduction of the Phisciple of Morality 17 (Original pages 1-70.) Book II. Deduction of the Reality and Applica- BILITY OF THE PuiNCIi'LE OF MoUALITY 67 (Original pages 71-202.) Part II. Systematic Aitlication ok the Mohal PiiiNcirLE ; on, MOIIALITY IN IT.S MORE Ke.STIUCTED JMeANINO. Book III. Concekxino the Formal Conditions of THE Morality of our Actions . . 107 (Original pages 203-271.) Book IV. Concerning the Material Condition.s OF the Morality of our Actions . 217 (Original pages 272-339.) Book V. Theory of Duties . . . . . 269 (Original pages 340-494.) Appendix — On A.scetism . ... 373 (Printed pages 469-550. N.B. — The work is translated from the edition of 1798. INTRODUCTION §'• How an objective can ever become a subjective, or how a being can ever become an object of representation : this curious change will never be explained by anyone who \/ does not find a point wherein the objective and subjective are r^ot distinguished at all, but are altogether one, Now, such a point is established by, and made the starting- point of, our system. This point is the Egohood, the Intelligence, Eeason, or whatever it may be named. This absolute identity of subject and object in the Ego can be shown up only through mediation, and cannot he found immediately as part of actual consciousness. ^ "With the realization of actual consciousness, even thou<^'h it be self-consciousness, we always have the diremption. Only in so far as I distinguish myself, the conscious, from myself, the object of this consciousness, am I at all conscious of myself. 2'he whole mechanism of cofiseious- ncss rests iipon the manifold views of this separation and reunion of the subjective and the objective. The subjective and objective are viewed as united, or ns harmonious, in the following manner : First, OS if the subjective resulted from the objective, as if the former conformed itself to the latter. This view is called Knowledge, Cognition. It is the business of theoretical philosophy to show how we come to assert such a harmony. B 2 THE SCIENCE OE ETIflCS. Second, as if tlic oljjective resulted from the Rubjcctive, as if a being resulted from a conception (from tlie con- ception of a purpose). This view is that of a moral activity. It is the business of practical philosophy to show how we come to assert such a harmony. The first point, namely, how we come to assert tlie harmony of our representations with tilings, assumed to have independent existence, has been entertained in previous philosophy, but not the second point, namely, how we come to think some of our conceptions as repre- sentable, and in part actually represented in this very same independent nature. It has been considered quite a matter of course that we can influence nature. Every- one knows that we do it every moment : it is a part of consciousness ; so why trouble ourselves about it. §3. The doctrine of morals is practical philosophy. As it is the province of theoretical philosophy to represent the system of necessarily thinking that our representations conform to a being, so practical philosophy has to exhaust the system of necessarily thinking that a being conforms to results from our representations. Hence, it becomes our duty to enter upon this last-mentioned question, and to show, first, how we come at all to consider some of our representations as being the ground of a being ; and, second, whence we get particularly that system of those conceptions from which a being is absolutely to result. Tiie object of this Introduction is to gather into one short statement what the subsequent investigation is to elaborate in detail concernini; this matter. o §4- I find myself as active in the sensuous world. From this self-finding all consciousness proceeds, and without this consciousness of my activity there is no self- INTRODUCTION. 3 consciousness, as witliout this self-consciousness there is no consciousness of anotlier, which I myself am Jiot. Whoever desires a proof of tliis assertion will find it in the second book of tliis worlc. At present we merely assert it as an immediate fact of consciousness fof the sake of connecting our argument to it ? AVhat manifoldness does tliis representation vof my activity contain, and how do I arrive at this manifold ? Even when we admit, for the present, that the repre- sentation of tlie matter, upon which my activity is directed, and whicli remains i)crmanent and unchanged by this activity ; and the representation of the qiialilies of this matter, wliich my activity changes; and the representation of this progressive change, which continues until that form is realised which I purposed to realise — even when we admit, I say, tliafrdl these representatiyns, which are involved in the representation of my activity, are given me externally — although I confess I do not understand what this may mean — even granted that it is empirical perception, or whatever other words may be used to express this not-thought, it nevertheless remains quite r.lear that there is something else besides m the repre- sentation of my activity which cannot be externally given, but must lie in me, which I cannot empirically perceive or learn, but which I must know immediately, namely, that / mgsclf am to be the last ground of the 1| change which is to occur. '' I am the ground of this change signifies: — that that whicli knoius of the change is that which effects it; the " subjec t of consciousness and the principle of causality are one. But that wliich I assert, at the origin of all knowing, of the subject itself of this knowing, or, in otlier words, that which I know because I know at all ; this I can have derived from no other knowing; I know it immediately ; I posit it absolutely. Hence, as soon as I know at all, I know that I am active. The mere form of knowing generally contains 4 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. tlic consciousncRS of myself as an active principle, and, hence, posits myself as such. Now, it might well be tliat tlic same mere fonu of knowing does alone — if not immediately, at any rate through the just discovered immediate — contain all the other manifold which is involved in the representation- of my activity, as mentioned before. If this should turn out to be so, we should at once be relieved of the very vexatious assumption that this manifold is given to us from without, since we should be able to explain it in another and more natural manner. Such an explanation would show how we come to ascribe to ourselves a causality in an external sensuous world by deducing the necessity of such an assumption immediately from the pre-supposed consciousness. We will attempt to decide whether such a deduction is possible. Its plan is as follows : We have just now seen what the representation of our causality involves. The pre-supposition now is that the same is contained in, and necessarily posited together with, consciousness in general. Hence we proceed from the form of consciousness in general, and commence our deduction with it; and our investigation is closed if, in the course of our deduction, •we arrive again at the representation of our sensuous activity from which we started. §5- I posit myself as active, signifies according to the above: I distinguish within myself a knowing and an actual power, which, as such, does not know, but is; but, at the same time, I view both as absolutely one. How do I come to make the distinction ? How to determine the distinguished in precisely this manner ? Probably the second question will find its answer in the answer to the first question. I do not know without knowing somewhat; I do not INTRODUCTION. 5 know of myself witlioiit becoming precisely throngli tins "/^ Tfnowledgc somewliat for myself; or, which is tlic same, without distinguishing witliin myself a subjective and an objective. If a consciousness is posited, tliis distinc- tion is posited ; and without it, consciousness is not \/ ^ c * possible at all. But this diremption posits immediately likewise the relation of the dirempter, of the subjective and objective. The latter, the objective, is to exist through itself independently of the subjective; whereas the former, the subjective, is to be dependent upon and receive its material determination through the latter. Being is to be through itself, whereas knowing is depen- -^ dent upon being; as such the relation must appear to us, if anything appears to us, or if we have consciousness at all. , The important insight thus obtained is the following : — Knowing and being are not separated outside and inde- 1 pendent of consciousness, but are separated only in consciousness, because this separation is a condition of ' the possibility of all consciousness ; and it is only through this separation that both those separates arise. ~/ There is no being except through the mediation of consciousness, as there is likewise no knowing, as a mere subjective knowing having its being for its object, except through consciousness. Even if I try merely to say "I," am I already compelled to separate; but likewise also does this separation arise only through my saying thus, "I." The one, which is separated, and which is therefore at the basis of all consciousness, and in consequence whereof the subjective and objective in consciousness are immediately posited as one, is absolutely = X, and can, as such simple one, arise in no manner in consciousness. "We discover here an immediate agreement between the subjective and objective, I know of myself because I am, and I am because I know of myself. It is possible that all other agreements of both — whether the objective 6 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. is to result from the siil)joctivc, as when the conception of a purpose is realized, or whether the sul)jcctive is to result from the ol)jective, as wlien tlie conception of cognition is applied — are but particular views of that one immediate harmony. If this could really 1)c proven, it would also prove that everything wliich may occur in consciousness is posited through the mere form of consciousness, since that immediate diremption and liar- mony is the form of consciousness itself, and since those other diremptions and harmonies exhaust the total content of all possible consciousness. How this may be, we shall doubtless see in the course of our investi- gation. §6. ' I posit myself as active, as described above, signifies not : I ascribe to myself activity in general ; but I ascribe to myself a determined activity, i.e., this activity and no other. We have seen how the subjective, through its mere separation from the objective, becomes quite dependent and necessitated ; and the ground of this, its material determinateness, of its determinateness in regard to the xvhat thereof, does not lie in itself, but in the objective. The subjective appears as a mere cognizing of a some- thing which it perceives, but on no account as an active producing of the representation. Tlius it must, indeed, be, at the origin of all consciousness, where the separation of the subjective and objective is. complete. But in the progress of consciousness the subjective also appears, through the mediation of a synthesis, as free and deter- mining, for it appears as dbstractinrj ; in which case it may very well at least freely describe, though not perceive, activity in general. At present, however, we stand at the origin of all consciousness, and the repre- sentation which we have to investigate is therefore necessarily a perception; ^.e., in this representation the INTRODUCTION. 7 sulijcctivG appears a.s altogolhor and completely deter- , .- mined throii'di an external other. "■~~" ' - ■ "^ Now what does this signify ? A determined activity. And how docs it become a determined activity ? »Solely through opposing to it a resistance, opposing it through ideal activity ; in other words, solely through thinking and imagining a resistance as opposed to it. Wherever and in so far as you perceive activity, you also perceive / necessarily resistance. JN"© appear ance of resistance , no y/ appearance of activity. Let not this be overlooked. That such a resistance does appear is purejy result of the laws of consciousness, and hence the resistance may properly be regarded as a result of those laws. The law itself, which gives rise to it for us, may 1x3 deduced from the necessary sepa- ration of a subjective from an objective, and from the absolutely posited relation of the former to the latter, as established previously. This is the ground why the consciousness of the resistance is a mediated, and not an immediate consciousness. It is mediated through this, that I must regard myself as merely a cognizing subject, and in this cognition utterly dependent upon y' the objectivity. Next, let the characteristics of this representation of a resistance be developed in their genesis. This resist- ance is represented as the opposite of activity ; hence, as something, which merely is, but does not act, as some- thing quiet and dead, which merely strives to remain in existence, and which, therefore, does certainly resist (with a measure of power to remain what it is) all influences of freedom upon it, but which can in no wise attack y freedom upon its own ground ; in short, mere objectivity. ■ Such objectivity is called with its familiar name, ?/^a^^cr. Again, all consciousness is conditioned by the con- sciousness of myself. This; again, is conditioned by the perception of my activity, and this again is conditioned by the positing of a resistance as such. Hence this 8 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. rcsistonce, with the characteristic just ascribed to it, extends necessarily throuj^diout tlie whole sphere of my consciousness, and remains along with it. Nor can freedom ever be posited as having the slightest influence over this resistance, because if it had, itself and all con- sciousness and alj being would become annihilated. The representation of a matter, which cannot be in any manner changed through my causality, and which wo discovered above to be contained in the perception of our activity, has thus been deduced from the laws of con- sciousness. One of our chief questions has been answered, namely, how we come to assume a subjective, a conception which is to result from, and to be determined by, an objective, by a being. This assumption is, as we have shown, the necessary consequence of our separating in our conscious- ness a subjective from an objective, and yet, at the same time, regarding both as one ; and the determined relation, namely, that subjective is to be determined by the objective, and not vice versd, arises from the absolutely posited relation of the subjective as such to the objective as such. And thus the principle and the problem of all theoretical philosophy have been deduced. §7. I posit myself as active. "We have said enough con- cerning the subjective and objective in this positing, their diremption, their union, and their original relation to each other. But we have not yet investigated the predi- cate which is attached to the one and inseparable Ego. What does it signify to be active ? and what do I really posit when I ascribe activity to myself ? The schema of activity in general, as an agility, mobility, or whatever words you may choose to express it in, we presuppose in the reader, since it can be demon- strated to no one, who does not find it in himself. This INTRODUCTION. 9 internal agility canngt in any way be ascribed to tlic objective as siicli, as wo have jnst seen, for tlie objective is and remains only what and us it is. Tliis agility, so far as the form of its activity is concerned, appertains only to the subjective, to the intelligence as such. I say so far as the form is concerned, for, we have sliowii above that the material or the content of the deter- minedness is to be in another relation determined through the objective. Eep resenting, in its form, is therefore contemplated as freest internal motion. Now I, tliG Olio iiiseparablo Ego, am to be active, and that, which acts upon the object, is doubtless this objective in me, the real power. Considering all this, my activity can also be posited as proceeding from the subjective and determining the objective ; in short, as a causality of the mere conception upon the objective, which conception cannot in so far be again determined through another objective, but is determined absolutely in and through itself. We have thus also replied to our second question — how do I come to assume that an objective results from a subjective, a being from a conception ? and in doing so have deduced the principle of all practical philosophy. For this assumption arises because I am absolutely bound to posit myself as active, and because, having distinguished within myself a subjective and an objective, I cannot posit this activity in any other manner than as a causality of the conception. Absolute activity is the one predicate, which immediately and absolutely belongs to me ; and causality, through the conception, is the only possible manifestation of this activity, made necessary by the laws of consciousness. In this latter form absolute activity is also called freedom. Freedom is \ the serisuous representation of self-activity, and arises through the opposition of ourselves as intelligence to tJie determinateness of the object, in so far as we relate the latter to ourselves. v-<<^' > ,»- -V XO lo THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. I posit myself as free in so far as I explain a sensuous acting or a being through my conception, which conception is then called the conception of a purpose. Hence the fact which was assumed above, tliat I fnid myself active, is only possible on condition, that I presuppose a concep- tion originated through myself, wliich my causality is to accept as a guide, and to be as well formaliUr based upon us materialitcr determined by. We thus ol^tain a new characteristic to those already mentioned as involved in the representation of our activity, a characteristic wliich it was not necessary to point out before, and which we have here, at the same time, deduced. But it is to be well observed, that this previous originating of a concep- tion is only 2wsitcd, and pertains only to the sensuous view of our self-activity. The conception, from which an objective determination • is to result, and which we call the conception of a purpose, is not itself determined again by an objective, but is y^ absolutely determined through itself. For if it were otherwise I should not be absolutely active, nor im- mediately posited as absolutely active, but my activity would be dependent upon, and mediated through, an _.,. objective being, which is against our presupposition. It • is true, that in the course of connected consciousness the conception of a purpose appears as conditioned — not determined— through the cognition of" some objective bein» But this view cannot be entertained here, at the origin of all consciousness, where we take our starting-point from activity, and where this activity is absolute. The most important result of this consideration is as follows: — There is an absolute independence and self- determination of the mere conception by virtue of the causality, which the subjective has upon the objective ; precisely as we asserted an absolute and self -posited being of the material substance in consequence of the causality, which the objective has upon the subjective. INTRODUCTION, 1 1 Both ends of llie whole world of reason have thus been connected by ns. (Wliosoever lias but properly seized this self-determin- ing of the conception, has thereby attained the most perfect insight into our whole system, and, as a conse- quence, an unshakeable conviction of its truth.) § 8. From the conception there results an objective. How is this possible, nnd what can it Bigiiify ? Xothing, but that the conception itself should appear to me as some- thing objective. Now the conception of a purpose, regarded objectively, is called a willinrj, and tlic repre- sentation of a will is nothing but this necessary view of the conception of a purpose posited, if only for the sake of becoming conscious of our activity. The spiritual within me, viewed immediately as the principle of a causality, becomes to me a will. But it is / who am to have causality upon the sub- stance or matter, which we have described in its origin ; and it is impossible for me to think a causality upon that matter except through what is likewise matter itself. Hence in so far as I think, and must think, myself as ;, having causality upon this matter, I become matter for myself, and in so far as I thus regard myself, I call myself a material hody. I, regarded as principle of a causality in the world of matter, am an articulated body ; and the representation of my body itself is nothing else than the representation of myself as a cause in the world . of matter ; hence mediately as simply a certain view I V take of my absolute activity. Nevertheless, the will is to have causality — and im- mediate causality — upon my body, and only so far as this immediate causality of the will extends does the body, as tool, or the articulation extend. Hence the will is aJso separated and distinguished from the body, and 12 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. appears, therefore, as not the same as the ]>ody. But tliis clircmption and distinction is notliing but another separation of the subjective and objective, or, still more definite, a familiar view of this original separation. Tlie will, in this relation, is the subjective, and the body the objective. §9. But what is my actual causality, what is the change which it is to produce in the sensuous world, and what is the sensuous world which is changeable through this causality ? If a subjective within me is to change into an objective, a conception of a purpose into a resolve of the will, and this again into a certain modification of my body,_I evidently represent myself to myself as having changed. But my final appurtenance, i.e., my substantial body, is to be connected with the whole material world, and hence, as it is regarded as having changed, the world is necessarily also so regarded. The thing, which my causality can change, or the qualitativcness of j^ature, is precisely the same as the unchangeable thing, or mere matter. Both are the same, only viewed from different sides, precisely as the causality which the conception exercises upon the objective ap- peared to us, when viewed from two sides, as will and as body. The changeable thing is Nature, when viewed' subjectively, and, as connected with me, the active intelli- \/^ gence ; the unchangeable thing is that same Xature, when •^ viewed altogether and merely objectively. All that was involved in the perception of our sensuous causality has now been deduced from the laws of consciousness, as was required, and we find as the last link of our conclusions the very same from which we started. Our investigation has therefore rcturned into itself, and is closed. Its result is, in short, as follows : — The only absolute, JNTRODUCTION. 13 upon which all consciousness and all bcinf; is based, is pure activity. This activity appears by virtue of the laws of consciousness, and particularly of the funda- mental law of consciousness, that the active can only be considered as united suly'ect and object (as E;,fo). As a causality upon something outside of me, all wliich is contained in this appearance — from the end or purpose absolutely posited through myself to the raw matter of the world — are but mediating links of this appearance, and hence are themselves appearances. The only purely true is my self-determination. PART 1. THE SCIENCE OF MORALITY BOOK FIRST. DEDUCTION OF THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. Preliminary. It is asserted that there manifests itself in the soul of man an impulsion to do certain things utterly independent of external purposes, merely for the sake of doing them ; and, on the other hand, to leave undone other things equally independent of external purposes, and merely for the sake of leaving them undone. The condition of man, in so far as such an impulsion is necessarily to manifest itself within him, as sure as he is a rational being, is called his moral nature. The power of cognition, which belongs to man, may relate in a twofold manner to this, his moral nature. Firstly. When that impulsion is discovered by him in his self observation as a fact — and it certainly is assumed that each rational being will thus discover it, if he but closely observes himself; man may simply accept it as such fact, may rest content to have discovered that it is thus, without inquiring in what manner and from what grounds it becomes thus. Per- haps he may even freely resolve, from inclination, to place unconditioned faith in the requirements of that impulsion, and actually to think, as his highest destina- tion, what that impulsion represents to him as such ; nay, perhaps even to act constantly in conformity with this faith. Thus there arises within him the common^ or ordinary, knowledge, as well of his moral nature in C tj V 1 8 THE SCIENCE OE ET ///CS. genoral, as also — if he carefully attends to tlic dictates of his conscience in the particular phases of his life — of his particular duties; which common knowledge is possible from the standjwint of ordinary consciousness, and is suflicient for the generation of moral sentiments and a moral behaviour. Secondly. But man may also not rest content with the immediate perception ; he may desire to know the grounds of what he has thus discovered ; he may not be content with a partical, but desire a genelical know- ledge ; or he may desire to know not only that such an impulsion exists within him, but likewise how it arises within him. If he obtains this knowledge, it will be a speculative knowledge, and to attain it he must rise from the standpoint of ordinary consciousness to a higher standpoint. Now, how is this problem to be solved, or how are the grounds of the moral nature of man to be discovered ? The only matter which excludes all asking for a higher ground is this : that we are we, or, in other words, our Egoness, or Kationality, w^hich latter word, however, is not nearly as expressively correct as the former. Every- thing else, whether it be withm us, like the impulsion above mentioned, or for us, like the external world which we assume, is only thus within or for us because we are it, as can indeed be easily proven in general, whereas the particular insight into the manner in which some- thing connects within, or for us, that rationality, is precisely the speculative and scientific knowledge of the grounds of this something whereof we speak. The development of these grounds being deduced, as it is, from the highest and absolute principle of Egoness, and shown to be a necessary result thereof, is a deduction. It is therefore our present task to furnish a deduction of the moral nature or principle in man. Instead of enumerating at length the advantages of such a deduction, it is sufficient to remark tiiat only / THE PRTNCtPI.E OF MORALITY. 19 through it docs a science of morality arise. And science — no matter whereof — is end in itself. In relation to a scientific complete philosophy, the jircsent science of morality is connected with the fcience of knowledge through the present deduction. This deduction is derived from principles of the latter science, and shows how the particular science of morality proceeds from the general science of knowhxlge, and thus becomes a separate philosophical science. If, as is maintained, the morality of our nature follows from our rationality, in accordance with necessary laws, the mentioned impulsion is itself primary and immediate for perception ; that is to say, it will manifest itself without our interference, and we cannot change this, its mnnifestation, through our freedom in any ninnner what- .«oever. In generating through a deduction an insight into the grounds thereof, we do not in any manner receive the power to change anything in it, since only our cognition, and not our power, extends so far, and since the whole relation is necessarily our own unchangeable nature itself. Hence the deduction generates nothing else, and must not be expected to generate anything else than simply theoretical cognition. Just as we do not place things differently in time and space after we have obtained the insight into the grounds of our doing so at all, than we did previously, so also morality does not manifest itself / differently in man before and after its deduction. Nor is ihe science of morality a science of wisdom — as, indeed, were impossible, since wisdom is rather an art than a science — but morality is like all philosophy — a science of knowledge. In its peculiar characteristic, however, it is the theory of the consciousness of our moral nature in general, and of our determined duties in particular. So much concerning the significance and the object of our intended deduction. One more preliminary remark for its proper comprehension ; a remark made necessary / 20 THE SCIENCE OF ET/HCS. by the general ignorance regarding the nature of trans- cendental philosophy. The procedure of our deduction will be as follows : — "We shall make it our proljlem, to think ourselves under a certain specified characteristic, and to observe hov) we are compelled to think ourselves imder such condition. From our thus discovered nature we shall deduce the •moral impulsion before mentioned as necessary. Xow, at first, it would seem arbitrary that we think ourselves precisely under such a condition. But he who has an outlook over all philosopliy, and over the connection of the several philosophical sciences in a system, knows this condition to be necessary ; whereas anyone else may temporarily regard it as a mere assumption for the purpose of constructing, by its means, a science of morality. The attempt may succeed or not, and the correctness of the assumption will not have been proven until the required science has actually been established by its means. The objection, therefore, that the condition assumed is arbitrary would seem to be of little weight. A more important objection, and more instructive in its consequences, would be the following. Some one may say, "You are going to think yourself. Very well; but as a critical philosopher you ought to know, or it can at least be easily shown to you, that all your thinking proceeds according to certain inner laws of this thinking that hence all that you think is modified by tlie manner of thinking, and that everything is for you as it is, simply because you think it thus. This, doubtless, will also be the case in the present instance ; in thinking yourself you will become modified according to your thinking, and hence you cannot say : Thus am I in and for myself — since you never can know that unless you have some means of knowledge besides thinking — but you can merely say : Thtts must I necessarily think myself Xow, if you always remain conscious of this true signifi- cance of your result, and limit yourself to it, no objec- THE rRINCirr.E of morality. 21 tioTi can be raised uf^aiiist your procedure, but you can Bce yourself how inueli it will be worth. You do not, however, seem to limit yourself to this, its significance. You pretend to deduce from it that moral impulsion which manifests itself in us all, hence to deduce some- thing actual from a mere thought, or to pass from the region of thinking into the utterly difierent region of actual being." To this we reply : This we pretend to do on no account. We remain altogether in the region of tliinking, and the ever-continuing misapprehension of transcen- dental philosophy consists precisely in this : that such a transition from the region of thinking to that of being is still considered possible, is still required, and that a being in itself is still considered to be thinkable. That impulsion within us, what else is it than a thinking which forces itself upon us — than a necessary conscious- ness ? Can we then ever proceed from a consciousness of mere consciousness to the object itself? Do we then know anything else concerning this requirement, than that we must necessarily think that there is such a requirement within us ? The result of our conclusions in the deduction is a thinking ; and that which is within us, independently of all conclusions as primary and immediate, is also a thinking. The only difference between this mediated and immediate thinking is this, that in regard to the latter we do not become conscious of its grounds, but find it to force itself upon us with immediate necessity, thereby receiving the predicate of reality or perceivability ; while the former lies within a series of grounds, whereof we become conscious. It is the very object of philosophy to discover that within our reason which remains unknown to us on the standpoint ' of ordinary consciousness. We cannot speak of a being in itself, for reason cannot go beyond itself. For the / intelligence there is no being ; and since there is a being ^ only for the intelligence, there is no being at all ; there ' VL'J_ 22 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. is only a necessary consciousness. This necessity of consciousness forces itself immediately upon us on the standpoint of ordinary consciousness ; on the transcen- dental standpoint we investigate its grounds. The following deduction, as well as the whole system, of morality which is to be erected upon it, furnishes only a part of this necessary consciousness, and would l)e very incorrectly apprehended if taken to signify any- thing else. CHAPTER I. Problem. To think myself as self, that is to say, apart from all which is not myself. A. Solution. I find myself, as self, only as willing. Explanation. First. "What does this mean : I find mjjsdJJ The easiest manner to guide anyone to the correct thinking and understanding of the conception / is as follows : — Think, I would say to him, any object, for instance, this wall, this desk. You doubtless assume a thinking, which thinks in this thought, and this thinking you are yourself. You are immediately conscious of your thinking in this, your thinking. But the object which you think is not to be the thinking itself, is not to be identical with it, but is to be an opposite somewhat, of which oppositeness you are also immediately conscious in this your thinking. Now think again — not a wall, however, but yourself. As sure as you do this, you posit the thinking and the thought, not as opposites, as you did in the pre^'ious case, not as a twofold, but as one and the same ; and you are immediately conscious of it in this manner. You there- fore think the conception Ego or I, when the thinking and the thought are assumed in thinking as one and the same, and vice, versa, whatever arises in such a thinking is the conception of the ^170. Applying this to our case, I find myself would signify : "3 I ?4 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. I ft.ssunic that which I find to he the s.'uue as that which , finds; the finding and tlic found are to he tlic same. \ ^ Second. What does this mean : I /nrZ myself ? The found is here opposed to that which is produced through our free activity ; and more particularly the finding is here determined as that wiiich finds; i.e., in so far as I find I am conscious of no other activity than that of a mere taking iiold of something ; that which I take hold of being neither produced nor in any manner modified by my taking hold of it. It is to be, and to be precisely as it is, independently of my taking hold of it. It was without having been taken hold of, and would have remained as it was although I had not taken hold of it. My taking hold of it was altogether accidental for it, and did not change it in the least. Thus, at least, do I appear to myself in finding, and at present we are merely con- cerned in establishing the facts of consciousness, but not in showing how it may be in truth, i.e., from tlie highest standpoint of speculation. In short, somefcliing is fjivcn to the perceiving subject ; he is to be purely passive, and something is to force itself upon him, which, in our case he is to recognize as himself. Third. What does this signify : I find myself as willing, and can find myself only as 'williiig ? What willing means is presupposed as well known. This conception is capable of no real explanation, nor does it need any. Each one must become conscious in himself, through intellectual contemplation, as to what it signifies, and will doubtless be able to do so without any dil^culty. The fact which the above words suggest is as follows : — I become conscious of a willing. I add in thinking to this willing something which exists inde- pendently of my consciousness, and wliich I assert to be the willing subject in this will, or to be that which is to have this will, in which this will is to be. How we come to add such a substance in thinking, and what are the grounds of it, we do not discuss here. We THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 25 merely nssert here that it does occur, and of this eacli one nnist convince himself by self-observation. I become consciovs of, or perceive, this will. But I also become conscious now of this consciousness, or of this perception, and relate it also to a substance ; and this conscious substance is for me the same which has the will. Hence I find the willing subject to be my self, or I find nujse/f willing. I find myself onhj as willing. I have not an imme- diate perception of substance. Substance is, indeed, no object of perception at all, but is merely that wliich is added through thinking to an object of perception. I can immediately perceive only something, which is to be a manifestation of the substance. Now there are only two manifestations which can be immediately ascribed to that substance: Thinking, in the widest significance of the word, and ivilling. The former is originally and immediately for itself not at all an object of a special ,y' new consciousness, but is consciousness itself. Only in so far as it is related and opposed to another objective does itself become objective in this opposition. Hence, as original objective manifestation of thai substance there remains only the latter, the (wUlir^ ; and this, V"^ indeed, remains always only objective, is never itself a thinking, but always only the thought manifestation of self-activity. In short, tlie manifestation which alone I originally ascribe to myself is the willing, and I become conscious of myself only on condition of becoming con- scious of myself as a willing. Proof. Having thus explained the above proposition, we now proceed to establish its proof. This proof is based : First. On the conception of the Ego. — The significance of this conception has just been established through its genesis. That each one does truly proceed in the 26 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. described manner when endeavouring^ to think his self; and that, on the other hand, such a proccedinj^^ gives rise to no other thought than that of his self; this each one must find in himself, and it cannot be specially proved to him. Second. On the necessity of the original oppositcdness of an objective and a subjective in consciousness. — In all thinking there is a thought which is not tliat thinking itself, in all consciousness there is something of which we are conscious, and which is not that consciousness itself. The truth of this assertion each one also must find in the self-contemplation of his procedure, and it cannot be proven to him from conceptions. It is true that afterwards we become conscious of our thinking as such, i.e., as a doing, and thereupon make it an object of our thinking ; and the ease and natural tendency to do this is what constitutes philosophical genius, without which no one will grasp the significance of transcendental philosophy. But even this is only possible if we im- perceptibly subsume under that thinking as merely thought, for only on this condition do we really think a thinking. Third. On the tharacter of the original objective, that it is to be something existing independently of thinking, hence something actual and in and through itself exist- ing. This also each one must convince himself of through internal contemplation, for although this relation of the objective to the subjective is developed in a science of knowledge, it is by no means proven from its conception, nor can it be so proven, since th» latter only becomes possible through that self-contemplatiou. The proof may be stated thus : It is the character of the Ego, that the acting and that which is acted upon he one and the same. This is the case when the Ego is thought. Only in so far as the thought is the same as the thinking do I hold the thought to be my self. But in the present case we are to have nothing to do with y TUE PRINCTPLE OF MORALITY. 27 thinking. It is true that, since the thinking and the thought are one, I am myself tlic thinking; but our* l)roscnt proposition asserts that the thought, the objective, is to he Ego simply hy itself and independently of thinking, and is to be recognized in this manner as Ego, for our proposition asserts that it is found as Ego. Hence, in the thouglit as such, i.e., in so far as it is to be merely the objective and never the subjective, there must be an identity of the acting and that which is acted upon ; which, since the thought is to be merely an object, is an actual acting upon itself (not a mere con- templating of itself like the ideal activity), or in otlier words, an actual self-determining of itself through itself. But such an acting we call willing, and willing we only think as such an acting. Hence the proposition, to find my self, is absolutely identical with the proposition, to find my self willing. Only in so far as I find myself willing do I find myself, and in so far as I find myself I necessarily find myself willing. Hem AUK. It is clear that the proposition here proved, " "When I find myself I necessarily find myself willing," in order to be productive of categorical results must be pre- ceded by another one, to wit : " I necessarily find myself, become necessarily conscious of myself." This self-con- sciousness is proved, not as fact, for as such it is imme- diate, but in its connection with all other consciousness, and as reciprocally determining it in a fundamental science of knowledge ; and hence our present proposition, together with all the results which may flow from it, will itself become a necessary result as well as a con- dition of self-consciousness. It may be said of this proposition, and these its future results, so certain as I am I, or as I am self-conscious, so certain does this or that necessarily exist in and for me. And thus it 28 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. appciira how our present science of morality is based on the common ground of all philosophy. •^^ B. Solution Continued. But willing itself is think- ^ ^jT^ able only under the presupposition of a something distinct from the Ego. *^ -^ ' Proof. ^^^Ni^^,_(> It is true that in philosophical abstraction we may speak of a willing in general, which on that very account is undetermined ; but all truly perceivaUe willing, such as we speak of here, is necessarily a determined willing, in which something is willed. To will sometliing is to require that a determined object, winch in the willing of it is only thought as possible — for if it were thought as \ actual the act would not be a willing, but a perceiv- ; ing — shall become actual object of a perception. This requirement, therefore, clearly refers us to the external. Hence, all willing involves the postulate of an external object, and the conception of willing involves something which is not our self. But more than this. The possibility of postulating in the willing an external object presupposes already within us the conception of an externality in general, and this conception is only possible through experience. But this experience likewise is a relation of our self to something outside of us. In other words, th.^t which I will is never anything else than a modification of an object which is to be actually existing outside of me. All my willing is therefore conditioned by the perception of an external object, and in willing I do not perceive myself as I am in and for myself, but merely as I may become in a certain relation to external things. C. Solution Concluded. Hence, in order to find my true essence, I must abstract from this foreign character- istic in willing. That which remains after this abstraction is my pure being. THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 29 Explanation. This proposition is the imnicdi externally proved to anyone who has not this immediate / knowledge of it as a fact. Nevertheless, it is quite possible that this appearance of it as absolute may be further explained and deduced, whereby the appearing absoluteness will itself be further explained and cease to be absoluteness, the appearance thereof changing into mere semblance. In a similar manner it also appears to us, as an immediate fact of consciousness, that certain things exist independently of us in time and space, and yet transcendental philosophy further explains and deduces this appearance; although it docs not change that appearance into a mere semblance, for reasons not • here to be stated. It is true no one will be able to furnish such an explanation of willing. Xevertheless, if anyone should say that willing has an external— and to us incomprehensible— ground, there can be no theoretical rational ground objected against the assertion, although it likewise can also prefer no ground in its favour. The truth is that when we resolve to consider this appearance as no further explicable, or, rather, as absolutely in- explicable—that is to say, as truth, and as our only truth, according to which all other truth must be judged and accepted ; and upon this resolve our whole philosophy is erected. In that case, we make this resolve not from any theoretical insight, but in consequence of a practical interest. I loill be independent: hence I resolve to consider myself independent. Such a resolve is called Faith. Hence our philosophy starts from a faith, anil knows it. Dogmatism, which, logically carried out, makes the same assertion, starts also from a faith (in the thing in itself), but generally does not know it. In our philosophy each one makes himself the absolute THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 31 starting-point, or basis, of his ])hilosop]iy : hence our system appears as witliont a basis to all those who are incapable of doing so. But we can also assure all these, in advance, that they will never find a basis elsewhere, unless they are satisfied with this. It is necessary that our philosophy should say this openly, so that it may no longer be called upon to demonstrate externally to men what each one must create within himself. How do we think this absoluteness in willing ? In order to assist the reader at the very beginning in obtaining some insight into this conception (which is probably, in the abstractness it has received here, the most difficult of all conceptions in philosophy, although it will doubtless receive the highest clearness in the progress of our present science, the whole object of . which is merely to further determine this conception), we make use of an Illustration, Let the reader imagine a steel spring, bent together. There is doubtless in the spring a tendency to repel the pressure, hence a tendency outwards. Such a spring is the picture of an »actual willing, as the slaU or condition of a rational being ; but of it I do not speak here. Let me now ask what is the first ground (not condition) of this tendency, as a real and determined manifestation of the spring? Doubtless an inner action of the spring upon itself, a self-determination. For no one surely will say that the outward force which presses the spring is the ground of the spring's reacting against it. This self- determining is the same as the mere act of willing in the rational being. Both together would produce in the spring, if it could contemplate itself, the consciousness of a will to repel the pressing force. But all these moments are possible only on condition that such an external pressure is actually exercised upon the spring. 32 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. \\\ the Ramc way tho rational being cannot detennine itself to an actual willing, unless it stands in reciprocal relation with something external (for as such the rational being appears to itself). But this is also to be abstracted from, and hence we do not speak here of this moment any more than of the first-mentioned one. Now if we abstract from the external pressure altogether, does there yet remain any- thing whereby we think the steel spring as sucJi, and what is this remainder ? Evidently that, by whicii I judge the steel spring to have a tendency to repel any outside pressure as soon as it occurs ; hence the own inner tendency thereof to determine itself to react, or the real essence of elasticity as the final and no further explicable ground of all the appearances of the spring, whenever the conditions of its manifestation are given. (The very essential distinction between this original tendency in the steel spring, and the same in the rational being, will appear in the following investigations.) In the same manner in which we removed ail foreign elements from the conception of elasticity in the steel spring, we now proceed to remove all foreign elements in the Ego comprehended through its willing, and thus to arrive at a comprehension of its pure absolute- ness. /So far as the form of this problem is concerned, it is a problem to think the Ego in the required abstraction as a permanent, and hence that, through which it is to be comprehended and characterized in this thinking, must be an essential and permanent. Its manifestations and appearances can change, because the conditions under which it manifests itself change; but that which mani- fests itself under all these conditions remains always the same. So far as the content of the problem is concerned, that which is to be thought is to be the ground of an absolute THE PRINCfPLE OF MORALITY. 33 willing. (All willing is altsolutc.) Wh;it, then, is it? Kacli one must have truly thought, together with us, that which we required him to think ; must have undertaken, together with us,. the prescribed abstractions; and must now observe himself internally, and see what it is tliat remains, what it is that he still thinks, after having removed all those foreign elements. Only thus can the required knowledge be infused into him. A name cannot make it clear, for the whole conception has never Ijeen thought before, much less named. But to give it a name, we will call it, absolute iendmcij to the absolute] absolute undeterminability through anything not itself; tendency absolutely to determine itself without any external per- suasion. It is not only a mere 'power, or faculty, for a faculty is not actual, but is merely that which we think in advance of our actuality, in order to be able to receive it in a series of our tiiinking ; and that which we have to think here is to be something actual, is to be that which constitutes the essence of the Ego. And yet this conception of a faculty is also involved in it. When related to the actual manifestation, which is only possilile on condition of a given object, it is in this relation the faculty or power of such manifestation. Neither is it an impulse, as one might call the ground of the elasticity in the steel spring ; for an impulse operates necessarily when the conditions of its operating are given, and operates in a materifilly determined manner. But con- cerning the Ego, we know as yet nothing in relation to this point, and are not allowed to make hasty judg- ments in advance of the investigation. Eesult. The essential character of the Ego, through which it distinguishes itself from all that is outside of it, consists in its tendency to self-activity for the sake of self- activity ; and it is this tendency which is thought, when 34 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. the Ego is thouglit in and for itself without relation to anything external. Kemark. It must be remembered that the Ego is here considered only a8 object, but not as Ego in (jeneral. In the latter case, our above result would be utterly false. CHAPTER II. We have just shown what the Ego is, in and for itself; or, to express it more carefully, how the Ego must necessarily be thought, if it is thought solely as object. But the Ego is something only in so far as it posits itself (contemplates and thinks itself) as such, and the Ego is nothing so far as it does not posit itself. This is a proposition taken from and proved in the science of knowledge, and which we need therefore only explain here in a few words. A thing, and the utter opposite of a, thing, the Ego, or a rational being, are distinguished by this, that the thing merely is, without knowing of its being in the least, whereas in the Ego, being and consciousness join together ; the being of the Ego not being without self - consciousness of the Ego, and vice versa, no self- consciousness of the Ego without a being of that whereof it becomes conscious. All being relates to a conscious- 1 ness, and even the existence of a thing cannot be thought without adding in thinking an intelligence which knows of this existence. But in the case of the thing this knowing is not posited in the thing, which is, but in an external intelligence ; whereas the knowing of the being of the Ego is posited in the same substance, which is; and only in so far as this immediate connection of consciousness and being is posited can it be said the Ego is this or that. Applying this to the present case, it follows that the Ego must know of that which we have established as the essence of the Ego, as sure as that is its essence. 35 36 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. Hore there is necessarily a consciousness of the descriljcd absolute tendency. It may be of advantage, not merely to state this result generally, but to enter upon a par- ticular description of this consciousness. We now proceed to undertake this task. Problem. To become definitely conscious of the con- sciousness of our original being. EXI'LANATOKY. It is self-evident that we are conscious whereof we speak, whether we speak philosophically or otherwise. Thus in the preceding chapter we became conscious of something. The object of our consciousness was pro- duced through free self-determination of our thinking faculty by means of an arbitrary abstraction. But at present we assert that the same object exists for us originally, i.e., independent of all philosophising, and necessarily forces itself upon us as sure as we have any consciousness at all. If this is true, then an original consciousness thereof exists, though perhaps not precisely as of a single oliject, in the same abstraction in which we have just established it. Perhaps it may always occur in this original consciousness, in and together with another thought, as a determination of that thouglit. Now let us ask — Is, then, this original consciousness differently constituted from that which we have just now produced in us through philosophizing ? How were this possible, since the same is to be its object, and since the philosopher has surely no other subjective form of think- ing than the connnon and original form of thinking of universal reason ? Why, then, do we seek what we already possess ? We have it without knowing it; and at present we only j^ want to produce this knowing of it within us. The rational being is constituted in such a manner as rarely to observe its own thinking when thinking, but only the THE PRTNCirLE OF MORALITY. 37 olijcct of its thinking; or as nsually to lose itself, the subject, in the object. Nevertheless, philosophy is, above aTl, anxious to know the subject as such in order to obtain a judi,'mcnt concerning its influence upon the; determination of the object. This can only be done if the mere reflection is made the ol)ject of a new reflection. To tiie non-philosopher it may seem curious and, per- haps, ridiculous to require anyone to become conscious of a consciousness \ but this would only prove his ignorance of philosophy and his inability to philosophize. Genetical Descuiption of the Consciousness of Our Original Being. The Ego has the absolute power of contemplation, for only through it is it Ego. This power can be no further deduced, and needs no further deduction. With the positing of an Ego this power is posited. ^Again, the Ego can and must contemplate what it is. The peculiar determination of contemplation, here postu- lated, requires likewise no deduction or mediation througli external grounds. The Ego contemplates itself because it does, so far as regards the mere fact. Now let us proceed to determine this fact; in doing which we shall and must calculate in each reader upon his own self-active generation of that whereof we speak, and upon his close observation of that which will arise within him when he thus generates. A. The contemplating intelligence posits the above described tendency to absolute activity as itself, or as identical w^ith itself, the intelligence that absoluteness of real activity thus becomes the true essence of the intelligence, and is brought under the authority of the conception, whereby alone it first becomes true freedom: absoluteness of the absoluteness, absolute power to make itself absolute. Through the consciousness of its abso- luteness the Ego tears itself loose from itself, and posits itself as independent. 38 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. Explanatory. Let me explain this expression : it tears itself loose from itself. All contemplation, as such, is to be directed upon something existing independently of it, and exist- ing precisely as it is contemplated. It is tlic same witli the contemplation whereof we s[»eak here. The Ego as absolute is to have had existence before it was seized in contemplation, and this absoluteness is to constitute its independent being, apart from all contemplation of it. Now, where the contemplated is something outside of the contemplating, the intelligence is altogether passive in its observation. Such is not to be the case in our instance. Here the contemplated is itself the contem- plating ; not immediately as such, it is true, but it is the same one essence, power, and substance as the contem- plating. Hence the intelligence is in this instance not merely a passive observer, but rather becomes for itself absolute real power of the conception. The Ego, as absolute power with consciousness, tears itself loose from the Ego, as the given absolute without power and con- sciousness. It is well to dwell somewhat longer upon this chiof thought, which may seem dihicult to many, but upon the direct comprehension whereof the possibility of understanding our whole system depends. Let the reader once more think of an elastic steel spring. It is true that the spring contains within itself the principle of a peculiar movement, which is not given to the spring externally, but which ratlier resists the direc- tion given it from without. Nevertheless you will doubt- less hesitate to ascribe that which you have hitherto very properly called freedom to the spring. Whence this hesitation ? If you should say, " Because the resistance follows from the nature of the spring, and from the circumstance of an external pressure upon it with in- evitable necessity," I am willing to remove this inevit- THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 39 able necessity. I will permit you to assume that the steel spring, at some time, resists the pressure from an unknown reason, and at another time from an unknown reason cedes to tlic pressure. Are you now going to call such a steel spring free ? I do not believe it. The con- ception of freedom, instead of facilitating the connection of freedom with the spring, rather asks you to think something absolutely unthinkable, namely, blind chance ; and you will persist in saying that although you do not know througli what tlie spring is determined to resist, you are sure that the spring is thus determined, and does not determine itself to resist, and that the spring can, therefore, not be called free. Now, let me ask you, what do you think when you think " to be determined " in opposition to " self-deter- mined," and what is it you require for the possibility of the latter ? We will try to make this clear ; and since you found it impossible to do anything with the thought of a free thing as a thing dependent upon blind chance, nor found that thought to facilitate the con- nection of freedom with a thing, we shall commence witli it. You said, then, the steel spring is determined by its nature to resist external pressure. What does this mean ? In thus asking. What does it mean ? I do not propose that you shall acquire an external knowledge, or discover nev/ results by progressive conclusions from an acquired knowledge. That which I ask for, you think at this very moment, and you have always thought it, even before you resolved to philosophize ; and I merely ask that you shall make clear to yourself what you really think, or that you shall but understand what you say. The nature of the thing is its fixed being, without internal movement, quiet and dead ; and such a hxed being you posit necessarily when you posit a thing and a nature thereof, for such a positing is precisely the thinking of a thing. Now, together with this un- changeable permanency of the thing, you posit that under 40 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. a certain condition a change will result in tlie tiling. For that which you liave posited w?, jb^ed 'mmX linckan/jcal/le is the nature of the thing, which docs not depend upon the thing, since the thing is itself its own nature, and its nature is the thing itself. When you think the one, you necessarily think the other also, and you will surely not say that the thing exists in advance of its own nature, and determines its own nature. But having once posited this nature of the thing, you proceed in your thinking from a being (of the nature of tlie thing) to another being (of the manifestation of this nature under certain conditions), and this progression of your thinking describes a steady series of being. Expressing the same subjectively, your contemplation is always tied down, is always merely passively observing, and there is not a moment in the series when it miglit become self-productive; and this condition of your thinking is precisely that which you call the thinking of necessity, and through which you deny all freedom to the object of such thinking. We have, therefore, discovered the ground why you find it absolutely impossible to think freedom in our present case, and in all similar cases. Expressing it objectively, all being which flows itself from a being is a necessary being, and not a product of freedom. Express- ing it subjectively, the conception of a necessary being arises in us through the connecting of one being with another being. From this you will now be able to conclude, through opposition, what it is you require in order to think free- dom, which you surely can think, and always have thought. You require a being which shall have, not no ground at all — for such you cannot think — but a ground in something which is not again a being. Now, besides being, we only have thinking. Hence, a being which you may be able to think as product of freedom nmst proceed from a thinking. Let us see whether this pre- supposition makes freedom comprehensible. THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 41 Something which is not determined, but dciermines itself, is to be called force. Is tliis active determininc^ comprehensible when presupposed as occurrinff througli a tliinlcinrjl Undoubtedly, provided we are but able to think thinking itself, and do not again make a thing out of our conception. The reason why we could not derive freedom from a being was because the conception of a being involved that of a fixed permanency. But such permanent being does not hinder us when we derive freedom from thinking, since thinking is not posited as something permanent, remaining, etc., but as agility [Agilität = producing activity], and only as agility, of the intelligence. To be posited as free, something must be posited as determining itself. Such was your assertion. (It must not only be not determined through an external other, but also not through its own nature.) What does that Itself mean ? It doubtless involves the thought of a twofold. The free is to he, before it is determined ; it is to have an existence independent of its determinedness. A thing cannot be thought as determining itself precisely because it has not being in advance of its nature, or of the system of its determinedness. But the intelligence, with its conception of real being, is in advance of that real being, and the former contains the ground of the latter. The conception of a certain being precedes that being, and the latter is dependent upon the former. Our assertion is, therefore, that only the intelligent can be thought as free, and that the intelligence becomes free only through thus seizing itself as intelligence, for only thus does it subsume its being under something which is higher than all being, namely, the conception. Somebody might object that in our own argumentation (in the preceding chapter) the absoluteness is presupposed as a being; and that the reflection which is now to achieve such great wonders is evidently itself conditioned through that absoluteness, having it for its object, and 42 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. is neitlicr reflection in general nor this particular reflec- tion, unless an object in general and this particular object are presupposed. To this objection we reply that it will appear hereafter how this absoluteness itself is required for, and results from, the possibility of an intelligence in general, and that hence the above proposition may also be reversed as follows: only that which is free can be thought as an intelligence; an intelligence is necessarily free. B. The Ego, in contemplating that tendency to absolute activity as itself, posits itself as free, i.e., as a power to have causality through the mere conception. Explanatory. Freedom is, according to Kant, the power to absolutely begin a condition or being. This is an excellent nominal explanation ; and yet it seems to have been of little value in effecting a better insight into freedom. For that ex- planation did not answer the higher question: how a condition or being could have an absolute beginning, or how such an absolute beginning could be thought; by which auswer a genetical conception of freedom would have been generated before our very eyes. Now this wc have just done. The absolutely beginning condition is not connected with nothingness— for the finite rational being necessarily thinks through mediation and connec- tion. But it begins with thinking itself— not with a being but with thinking. In Older to establish the conception in this manner, it is certainly necessary to walk, and to be able to walk, the path of the science of knowledge, to be able to abstract from all being, as such (or from the fact), and to start from that which is higher than all being, from contemplating and thinking, or from the acting of the intelligence in general. The same path, which alone leads to the right end in the theoretical philosophy in THE PRINCTPLE OF MORALITY. 43 explaining l)eing, is the path whicli also alone makes practical philoso])hy jxKssible. Tiiis lilccwiso makes more clear our previous expression : " The Ego posits itself as independent." The first view of this proposition, namely, "The Ego gathers up all that it originally is — and originally it is nothing unless free — in the contemplation and conception of itself" we have already explained completely. But that proposition involves something more. For all that the Ego can be in aduality, when the conception becomes cognition, and when the intelli- gence is the mere passive observer of the external world, originally depends, after all, upon the conception. What- soever the Ego is to become, the Ego must first make itself to be through the conception, and whatsoever the Ego will be in the future it most surely will have made itself through the conception. Hence the Ego is its own ground in every respect, and absolutely 2^osits itself even in a practical significance. But the Ego only posits itself as a faculty or power. This must, and can, be strictly proven. For the tendency to have absolute activity conies under the authority of the intelligence, as we have seen. But the intelligence, as such, is — as each one must discover in contemplating himself as intelligence, and as cannot be demonstrated to anybody — al^solutely determining itself a mere pure activitij, in opposition to all inrmanent and 2^osited being, however finely conceived ; hence it is capable of no determination through its nature or essence, or through a tendency, impulse, or inclination in it. Hence also such an inclination, however finely conceived, is not possible in that power of activity which is under the control of the intelligence, in so far as it is under such control; which active power is therefore to be thought as a mere pure faculty, i.e., as merely a concep- tion, to which an actuality can, in thinking, be connected as to its ground, although there is not in it the least datum to show what sort of an actuality it will be. CHAPTER III. It must have appeared strange to tlie reader tliat, in the preceding chapter, we deduced from a reflection of a tendency a consciousness, which has no similarity to a tendency at all, and that we thus appeared to lose sight utterly of the real character of this tendency. According to the principle upon which our argument, in the preceding chapter, was based, tlie Ego is only that as which it posits itself. Now the Ego is to be originally a tendency. The Ego must, therefore, have this character for itself — must become conscious of this, its character. The question is, therefore, not at all whether such a consciousness does occur in the Ego, but simply hoiu this consciousness may be constituted in its form? We shall obtain the required insight best by causing this consciousness to form itself under our very eyes. Hence it is our Problem. To see in what manner the Ego becomes conscious of its tendency to absolute self -activity, as such tendency. Explanatory. In our previous chapter we proceeded by absolutely postulating a reflection upon the objective Ego under consideration ; undoubtedly justified in so doing, since the Ego is necessarily intelligence, and an intelligence un- conditionally contemplating itself. We, the philosophers, were mere spectators of a self-contemplation on the part of the original Ego, and that which we established was 44 THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 45 not our own tliouglit but a thought of the Ego; tho object of our rellcction was itself a rcllection. In the present chni)tcr \vc likewise calculate — provided we can solve our problem at nil — upon arriving at such an original reflection of the Ego ; but we cannot well take our starting-point from it. For the mere postulate of a reflection results in nothing further than what we have already discovered, and found to be insufiicient, namely, the consciousness of a mere facidty, or power, but on no account of a tendency, or impulse. To state the distinction briefly, the reflection of our previous chapter was absolutely possil)le, but the one of the present chapter must first be grounded in its possibility, which grounding we now undertake through our philosophizing. • Solution. A. The posited tendency necessarily manifests itself as impulse in the whole Ego. Remarks. A particular proof of this assertion is not needed, resulting, as it does, from a mere analysis of what has been established in our first chapter. The tendency is posited as the essence of the Ego, and hence belongs, as such, to the Ego, and cannot be abstracted from, without cancelling the Ego. But as mere tendency it is impulse, i.e., real internal explanatory ground of an actual self- activity. Now an impulse which is posited as essential, permanent, and ineradicable, impels, and this is its manifestation : both expressions express precisely the same. Now, if we think the Ego, in which the impulse is, merely objectively, then the working of the impulse is comprehensible easily enough ; it will efiect a self-activity as soon as the external conditions are given ; precisely as was the case with the steel spring. The act will follow 46 THE SCIENCE OE ET ///CS. from the im])nlse, like tlic effect from its cause. Nay, we may even add, in thought, the intelligence, but in such a manner as to have it dependent upon the ohjectivc quali- tativencss; and the impulse will be accompanied by a yearning, or the deed by a resolve, with the same necessity — if the conditions are but given — with which the deed resulted from the impulse. We may think the Ego thus merely oljjectively in relation to the impulse, and will be forced to think it thus hereafter; but at present this repeated separation in a conception which we have composed already would serve us nothing, and only tend to distract our attention. A systematical progression requires that we should further determine our last result as we found it, and hence we must not think the Ego here objectively, but, as we have established it in the preceding chapter, objectively and subjectively together. Tliis is the significance of the term, the whole Ego, which we made use of above. Perhaps it may be well to state this still clearer. The Egoness, then, consists in the absolute identity of the subjective and objective, in the absolute union of being with consciousness, and of consciousness with being. Neither the subjective nor the objective, but an identity, is the essence of the Ego ; and we mention the former twofold only to designate the empty spot of this identity. Kow, can anyone think this identity as himself ? Of course not; for in order to think himself he rmcst make that very distinction hctivccn the subjective and objective, which is not to be made in that conception of the identity. Without this distinction, indeed, no thinking whatsoever is possible. Hence we never think both (the subjective and the objective) together, but always one after the other, and through this very thinking of the one after the other, we always think the one as dependent upon the other. Hence it is very natural, to be sure, that one should ask, am I because / think myself, THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 47 or ilo I think myself because I am? ]5ut such a because and such a therefore does not occur liere at all. You are neither of the two because you are the other; you are not twofold in any manner, but absolutely one ; and you are this unthinkable one absolutely because you are it. This conception, which is only to be described as the problem of a thinking, but which can never be thought itself, points out an empty place in our investigation, which we shall call X. The Ego cannot, for the reason stated, comprehend itself ; it is absolutely = X. Now this whole Ego, in so far as it is neither subject nor object, but subject-object, has, in itself, a tendency to absolute self-activity, which, if separated from the substance itself, and thought as ground of its activity, is an impulse which impels it. Should anyone still doubt our authority to relate this impulse to the whole Ego, we can easily remove that doubt now, by a separa- tion of the Ego, which is permissible here. Eor the Ego, in reflecting upon itself, according to the preceding chapter, posits that which is involved in its objectivity, as itself, even in so far as it is reflecting or subjective. Now the objective doubtless contains an impulse, and this impulse is changed through the reflection into an impulse upon the subjective ; and since the Ego consists, in the main, of both, it becomes an impulse directed upon the whole Ego. But how this impulse can manifest itself in the whole Ego cannot be determined here, particularly as even that upon which it is directed is absolutely incomprehensible. We can only say negatively that it cannot manifest itself with necessity and mechanical action, since the Ego, in its subjectivity, has placed its power of activity under the authority of its thinking, and since its thinking is not determinable through anything external, but only through itself. 48 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. B. From this manifestation of the impulse tliere does not result a feeling. Eemauks. Feeling in general is the mere immediate relation of the objective, in the Ego, to the subjective in the same, of its being to its consciousness ; and the power of feeling is the true point of union of both, though only in so far — as appears from our above description — as the sub- jective is considered as dependent upon the ol^jective. (For in so far as the objective is considered as dependent upon the subjective, the point of union of both is the will?) This can be made clearer as follows: — The objective in the Ego is determined, moved, or changed without any action of its own, and precisely like the mere thing. But since the Ego is never merely objective, the subjective always being united with it in the same one and un- divided essence, there necessarily arises with the change of the objective a change of the subjective, and hence a consciousness of that change in the objective ; but this consciousness appears as if it were produced in the same mechanical manner as that in which the change is pro- duced. This is the peculiar characteristic of feeling. In representation, the representing subject is also, it is true, merely passive, i.e., when the representation is directed upon any actual external being ; but in feeling there is no consciousness on the part of the subject of any internal agility, whereas in representation this conscious- ness certainly arises in regard to tlie form of the representation. In representation, I certainly do not produce the represented, but I certainly produce the act of representing it ; whereas in feeling I produce neither the felt nor the act of feeling. It is impossible to determine these distinctions more closely through conception, and even the distinctions specified here have no meaning, unless made clear by each one to himself THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 49 through contemplation of himself in these various con- ditions. Such descriptions as we have attempted here are nob to replace hut merely to guide self-contemplation. It is true that we shall soon meet a determinateness of the merely objective Ego through the impulse of absolute self-activity, and that we shall moreover deduce also feeling from this determinateness. But at present we are not speaking of any determinateness of the merely objective, but of the wlioU Ego = X. Can a feeling result from this determinateness? A feeling presupposes, according to our description, partly the dependence of the merely objective upon an impulse, and partly tlie dependence of the suljjective upon the objective. In the present case, the latter dependence has not been posited at all as possible, for both the subjective and oljjective are not to be con- sidered as distinct, but rather as absolutely one, and have been determined as thus absolutely one. What this one may be, and what may be its determinateness, is incomprehensible to us, as we have seen. But in order to comprehend at least something, we can only begin with one of the two parts into which we necessarily separate, or into which this one necessarily separates. Now since it is the Ego whereof we speak, in so far as its objective is to stand under the authority of the subjective, it will be most proper to begin with the subjective. The Ego as intelligence, therefore, is immediately determined through the impulse. A determination of the intelligence is a thought. Hence: C. From the manifestation of the impulse there results necessarily a thought. (it has been previously stated that the intelligence, as absolute agility, is not capable of any determination whatever; that it brings forth its thoughts, but that no E 50 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. thouglits can be brought forth in it. Tlic j^rcscnt state- ment might seem to be a contradiction of that previous result, but it will be apparent hereafter that both state- ments may well go together.) I. We therefore proceed to determine this thought, and in doing so first investigate it in regard to its form. A determined thinking, such as we reflect upon at present, appears either as determined through a being — namely, when the thought is to be an actual object, in which case the thought results in our consciousness as it does simply because the thing is as it is — or as deter- mined through another thinking; in winch latter case we say it results from this other thinking, and we then attain an insight into a series of rational grounds. Neither case occurs in our present instance. Our thought is not dctcrmiiud through a being, because we do not think an objective determinatencss, not even that of the objective Ego, but of the whole Ego ; and it is not determined through a thinking, because in this thought the Ego thinks itself, and thinks itself in its fundamental essence, but not with derived predicates ; and because this thinking of the Ego, particularly in this respect, is not conditioned by any other thinking, but rather conditions itself all other thinking. Hence this thought is not conditioned and determined through anything outside of it, neither through a being nor through a thinking, but absolutely through itself alone. It is a first immediate thinking. Strange as such an assertion may appear at the first glance, it follows correctly from the established premises, and is most important as well for the particular philosophical science which we establish here, as for the whole transcendental philosophy. It must be carefully noted therefore. Through it, thinking is rendered absolute in regard to its form ; we obtain a series, which absolutely commences with a thought, which itself is grounded in nothing besides, and connected with nothing else. Eor the fact THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 51 that wc have just now in our philosopliizing grounded tliis thought, moreover, in an im])ulse, has no influence upon common consciousness, which hegins with it, and is not a consciousness of the estahhshed grounds ; as, indeed, wc have proven. It is also to be remarked tliat this relation of the . subjective to the objective is truly the original relation in the Ego; and that the opposite relation, wherein the thouglit is posited as dependent upon the being, is grounded in this first relation, and must be derived from it. (To establish this deduction is the business of another branch of philosophy ; though we shall also have to recur to it hereafter.) But the described thought is also absolute in regard to its content, it is thought as it is thought simply because it is thus thought. This is of particular impor- tance for our present science, lest some should be induced, as has occurred frequently, to attempt a further explana- tion and deduction of the consciousness of our duties (for as such the described thought will soon show itself to be), which attempt is futile, involving an impossibility, and is also derogatory to the dignity and absoluteness of the moral law. In short, this thinking is the absolute principle of our being; through it we absolutely consti- tute, and in it consists, our being. For the essence of our being is not a material permanent, as that of lifeless things, but rather a consciousness, and moreover a determined consciousness. That we think this thinking we know immediately, for thinking is precisely this immediate consciousness of the determinateness of ourself as intelligence ; and in the present case of an intelligence, purely as such. An innnediate consciousness is called contemplation; and since the contemplation here is not directed upon an external being by means of feeling, but rather upon the intelligence immediately as such, it is called very properly intcUcclual contemplation. It is, indeed, the only one 52 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. wliich originalb/ and actwdly occurs in every man without the freedom of philosophical abstraction. The intellectual contemplation, whicli the transcendental philosopher requires of all students, is the mere form of this actual intellectual contemplation, is the mere con- . templation of the inner absolute spontaneity of the same, with ntter abstraction from its determinateness. "Without this actual contemplation, the philosophical contemplation were not possilile; our thinking is originally determined originally and not abstract. • 2. We now proceed to describe that thought in regard to its content. The whole Ego is determined through the impulse to have absolute self-activity, and it is this determinateness which is thought in our present thinking. Jjut tlie whole Ego cannot be comprehended, and hence, likewise, not immediately a determinateness of the whole Ego. It is only through reciprocal determination of the sub- jective and the objective that we can approximate the determinateness of the whole Ego, and we shall now attempt to do so. Let us first think the subjective determined through the objective. The essence of objectivity is an absolute unchangeable permanency. Applying this to the subjec- tive, we arrive at a permanent unchangeable, or, in other words, at a necessary thinking, a law of thinking. Xow, the determining impulse is an impulse to absolute self- activity. Hence, there results as content of the deduced thought: that the intelligence must give to itself an irrevocable law to realize absolute self-activity. Let us now think the objective determined through the subjective. The subjective is the positing of an absolute but completely undetermined power of freedom, as described in our previous chapter. This is to deter- mine, to produce, and condition the described objective. In other words, the thought just now established (that the intelligence must propound to itself a law to realize THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 53 absolute self-activity), is possible only on condition that the Ego thinks itself as free. But each is reciprocally to determine the other. Tliat is to say, the described self-legislation of the Ego occurs only when the Ego thinks itself as free, but if the ]*]go thinks itself as free it occurs necessarily. Thus, then, the admitted diOiculty of conceiving a determinateness of the thinking is likewise removed ; for the described thought does not occur necessarily, since in that case thinking would cease to be thinking (tliere being no freedom), and the subjective would change into an objec- tive ; but it occurs necessarily only as thinking thinks with alisolute freedom that very freedom. Strictly speak- ing, therefore, this thought is not a particular thought, but merely the necessary 7nanner of thinking our freedom. (This is very important.) It is the same witli all other necessity of thinking. Such necessity -is not absolute necessity, which, indeed, is not possible, since all thinking starts from a free thinking of our self; but it is merely conditioned by our thinking anything at all. If we think anything, then we must nceessarily think in this or that manner ; such is altogetlier the character of necessity in thinking. It is still to be observed that this thought grounds itself upon an impulse, and hence must retain the character of an impulse, which character is that of a postulate. The content of the deduced thought may, therefore, be described, in short, as follows : We are forced to think, that we are to determine ourselves through conceptions with consciousness, and to determine ourselves thus according to the conception of absolute self-activity, and this thinking is the very consciousness of our original tendency to absolute self-activity which we were looking for. CHAPTER IV. Strictly speaking, our clcduction is now ended. Its real object was, as our readers know, to deduce the thought that we are to act in a certain manner from the system of reason in general, or to show that the supposition of a rational being involves necessarily also the supposition that such a being thinks this thought. Such a deduction is absolutely required for the science of a system of reason, which science is itself its own end. But such a deduction involves many other advantages besides. Apart from the fact that we comprehend nothing truly and well which we do not see arise from ite grounds, and that hence we can attain com- plete insight into the morality of our being only through such a deduction, it is likewise to be considered that the comprehensibility which this deduction tlirows upon the categorical imperative of Kant will remove from it the appe°arance of an occult quality which it has hitherto borne (though without the positive fault of Kant), and will thus be the surest means to annihilate the dark region which that part of Kant's system left open hitherto for various visionary theories to take refuge in. Hence, also, it is all the more important to dissi- pate completely, by manifold and freer views, the dark- ness which may still rest upon our own deduction, but ■.which we could not thus dissipate well so long as we were confined by the chains of systematic de^'elopment. I. The chief point of our deduction may be also stated as follows: The rational being, considered as such, is absolutely and independently its own ground. It is 54 THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 55 ori^dnally (i.e., without any activity on its part) abso- lutely nothing, and whatsoever it is to he it must first make itself by its own activity. This proposition is not i)roven, nor can it be proven. It is absolutely demanded that each rational being should thus find and accept itself. In this manner, therefore, does each reader tliink himself. Now tell me, what is it really that you do think when you think what I have required of you ? For I do not ask you to go beyond that conception, Init merely to make it clear to yourself by pure analysis. The rational beim? is itself to bring forth whatsoever it is actually to be. Hence you must ascribe to the rational being, in advance of all actual (objective) being thereof, some sort of an existence, as, indeed, we have shown already in the previous chapter. This sort of existing can be none other than an existence as intelli- gence in and with conceptions. In your present con- ception of a rational being you must, therefore, have thought it as an intelligence. You must, moreover, have ascribed to this intelligence the power of producing a being through its mere conception, since you presuppose it as intelligence for the very sake of discovering a ground of being. In one word : in your conception of a rational being you have thought precisely what we have deduced in our second cliapter under the name of freedom. But now tell me — for upm this consideration every- thing depends — how much have you gained in making your conception of a rational being conceivable to you ? When you thought the described characteristics, did you think self-determination as essence of the Ego ? By no means ; you merely tiiouglit an empty undetermined power of self-determining. This thought merely makes possible the thought of an independent self-determined being, but does not make it actual, as which you certainly thought it first. For a power, or faculty, is something to which you merely can connect an actual being as to 56 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. its ground — if such actual beinc,^ were, for instance, externally given to you ; but you are not compelled to derive such actual hciwj from it as its ground,. The con- ception of a power, or faculty, involves not the least indication that an actuality, and vjhat sort of an actuality, will result from it. Perhaps that power of self-determin- ing might never be used, or miglit be used only at times, in which case you would receive either no self-determina- tion, or an interrupted self-determination, i.e., which would not be permanent, would not constitute the essence. It was not in this manner that you thought the self- determination of the rational being in the conception I have asked you to analyse. You did not posit that independence of the rational being as problematical, but as categorical, or as the essence of reason. What it sig- nifies to posit something as essential has been sufificiently explained, namely, to posit something as necessarily and inseparably involved in the conception ; as posited together with the positing of the conception. But if you thought self-determination as the necessary essence of reason, then you posited self-determination and freedom as necessity, which is a contradiction, and which you cannot, therefore, have possibly thought. In nevertheless thinking this permanent character of reason, you must, therefore, have thought it in such a manner as to make possible at the same time the thinking of freedom. Your determinateness was a determinateness of the free intelli- gence ; but such a determinateness is a necessary thinlciny (on the part of the intelligence) of self-determination, as the rule by which the intelligence must necessarily resolve freely to determine itself. Your conception of self-determination, therefore, in- volves both the power and the law to uninterruptedly exercise this power ; and you cannot think your concep- tion without thinking these both united. Thus it has appeared to you who freely resolved to philosophize, and thus it will appear — since you philosophize according to TUE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 57 universal laws of reason — to every rational being, and more especially to that rational ])eing which wo have here posited as representative of reason in general, \uidc;r the name of the original ]*]go, and the system of thinking whereof we arc about to establish. If the Ego thinks itself self-determined — and it is from this presupposition that we start — then it necessarily thinks itself as free, and — which is of chief importance to us here — it thinks this its freedom under the law of self-determination. This is tlie significance of our deduction. But there are other ways of showing the necessity of our deduced thought. Let the rational being think itself free in the above merely formal significance of the wonl. But it is finite, and each object of its reflection is limited or determined for it through the mere reflection. Hence, also, its freedom becomes limited or determined for it. But what is a determinateness of freedom as sucli ? We have just seen it. Or, let me express it from the profoundest depth of the system of transcendental philosophy, and in tlie most decided and comprehensive manner. I am identity of subject and object = X. Now, since I can only think objects, and then separate a subject from them, I cannot think such an X. Hence, I think myself as subject and object. I unite both by reciprocally deter- mining each through the otlier according to the law of causality. ]\Iy objective, determined through my sub- jective, results in the conception of freedom as of a power of self-determination. My subjective, determined through my objective, results in the thought of the necessity to determine myself through my freedom only in accordance with the conception of self-determination, which thought, since it is the thought of my original determinateness, is an immediate first and absolute thought. Now, neither is to be thought alone; not my objective dependent upon ray subjective, nor my sub- jective dependent upon my objective, but both are to 58 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. bo thought as absolutely one. I think it as one by reciprocally determining the one through the other in their stated determinateness, i.e., l)y thniking freedom as determining the law, and the law as determining the freedom. One is not thouglit witliout the other, and when the one is thought the other is also tliought. When you think yourself as free, you are forced to think your freedom as acting under a law ; and wlien you think this law you are forced to think yourself as free, since it presupposes your freedom, and announces itself to be a law for your freedom. Freedom does not follow from the law, nor does the law follow from freedom. Both are not two thoughts, each of which were thought apart from the other, but both are one and the same thought. It is a complete synthesis (according to the law of reciprocal determina- tion), as, indeed, was stated above. Kant, in various places, derives the conviction of our freedom from the consciousness of the moral law. This is to be understood as follows: The appearance of freedom is an immediate fact of consciousness, and is on no account derived from another thought. Nevertheless, someone might want to explain this appearance again, and thus to turn it into a mere seeming. Now, there is no theoretical, but only a practical, reason why we should not attempt any further explanation, which practical reason is the firm resolve to recognise practical reason as the superior, and the moral law as the true and final destination of our being; and not to turn this moral law again into a mere show, as is certainly possible to a free imagination. Now, by not going beyond this appearance of freedom in us, that appearance becomes reality for us. For the proposition, I am free— freedom is the only true being, and the ground of all other being— is a very different proposition from the one, I a'pjpcar to myself as being free. It is, there- fore, the faith in the objective validity of this appearance which is to be deduced from the consciousness of the THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 59 moral law. I am truly free is tlic first article of faith which opens us a path and transition into the world of reason, and prepares a firm basis for it. This faitli is, at the same time, tlie point of nnion of both worlds, and from it our system, which is to embrace both worlds, takes its starting-point. ])oing cannot be deduc(!d from being, since tlie former would thereby be changed into a seeming, and I mvM not hold it for a seeming. Hence, on the contrary, all being is to be derived from doing. The reality wliich being gains thereby docs not detract fronr our true destination, but is rather a gain for it. The Ego is not to be deduced from the Non Ego, and Life not from death ; but the Non Ego on the contrary, is to l^e deduced from the Ego, and, hence, it is from the Ego that all philosophy must proceed. 2. The deduced thought has been called a law. It has also been called by Kant a categorical imperative ; and the manner in which we think in this thought has been called a shaU-ing;, in opposition to being; and common sense has found itself surprisingly well expressed in these designations. We shall show how these same views proceed from our deduction. It has been shown that we can think freedom as standing under no law, but containing in itself alone the ground of its determinedness; and we must think freedom thus if we want to think it correctly, since its essence consists in thinking, and since thinking is absolutely un- ' determinable through anything other than itself. Hence, we can think freedom — it being determinable in all possible manners — under a fixed rule, the conception of which rule only the free intelligence can produce in itself, and determine itself according to that rule. Thus the free intelligence .might, for instance, propose to itself very different rules or maxims — as, for instance, of egotism, laziness, oppression of others, etc. — and might follow these maxims uninterruptedly and without excep- tion, although with full freedom. 6o THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. In this manner tho inlelliqeiice would llunk a certain actinn; as agreeing witli its rule, and anotlier acting as Cf>nllictiiig with it. True, the real acting always remains dependent upon absolute freedom, since the acting of tlie intelligence is not actually determined, is not mechanic- ally necessary, Ijut merely determinerl in the necessary conception thereof. How, then, is this necessity in the mere conception to be designated, since it is no actual necessity? It seems to me that it cannot be better designated than thus: a certain acting is -proper ; is as it omjU to be, or shovkl l^e ; whereas the opposite acting is improper, and should not be. Now, the conception of such a rule is, as we have shown above, an absolutely first unconditioned conception, having no external ground whatever, but having its ground in itself. Hence, such an acting is not to occur from this or that reason, not because something else is willed or ought to be, but it is simply to occur because it ought to occur. It shall [or on(iht to] be absolutely because it shall be. Hence this shalling, this " ought " or " should," is an absolute and categorical shalling ; and that rule is a rule valid without exception, since its validity is subjected to no possible condition. So far as this absolute shalling is, moreover, thought as involving an imperative command, suppressing all other inclination adverse to it, we cannot yet exi:)lain it, since we relate it altogether to absolute freedom at present, which freedom does not involve the thought of any inclination. 3. The deduced thought has also been very properly called autonomy, or self-legislation. It may be called so in a threefold significance. Firstly, because, when we presuppose the thought of the law in general, and consider the Ego merely as free intelligence, the law becomes a law in (jciural for the Ego only, by the Ego reflecting upon and arbitrarily submitting itself to that law, or by actively making THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 6i tlmt law the irrevocable princi[i]c of all its actions; and becomes a law in a imrticidar case only by tlic Yj'^<:> discovering, through its free judgment, what the law may require in that case. Thus the whole mioral exist- ence of the intelligent being is nothing but an uninter- rupted self-legislating or self-determining of the same, and when this self-legislation ceases there immorality begins. Secondly, because, so far as the content of the law is concerned, nothing is demanded but absolute indepen- dence, absolute -self-determination. Hence the material determination of the will through the law is taken from out of ourselves ; and all lidcronomy — all borrowing of grounds of determination from something external — is absolutely in violation of the law. Thirdly, because the whole conception of our necessary subjection to a law arises solely through an absolutely free reflection of the Ego upon itself in its true essence, i.e., as self-determining. The deduced thought does not force itself upon us immediately, which would be absolutely incomprehensible, and would cancel the conception of an intelligence ; but it is rather the condition, the necessary manner of thinking freely. Hence the Ego places itself in this whole relation of a lawfulness, and reason remains in every respect its own law. At the present place, it seems to me that it also appears very clearly how reason can be 2J'^'ci.ctical, and how this practical reason is by no means the curious and incomprehensible thing as which it has sometimes been viewed, and is, indeed, not at all a second reason, but rather the very same reason which we all recognize as theoretical reason. For reason is not a thing which is and exists, but rather a doing — pure, simple doing. Reason contemplates itself ; this reason can and does do simply because it is reason,, but reason cannot contemplate itself otherwise than as what it is; hence, as a doing. Now reason is ßnite, and 62 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. whatsoever reason represents becomes for reason, in so representing it, determined and finite ; liencc also its doing becomes a determined doing tlirough tliis very self - contemplation and the law of determinedness which it involves. But the determinedness of a pure doing does not result in a being, but in an ought, in a shalling. Thus reason determines itself its activity; and to determine an activity is an equivalent term witli to he practical. In a certain sense of the word, it has always been conceded that reason is practical, namely, in so far as reason is means for realizing some external purpose, either proposed by our free arbitrariness, or by some requirement of our nature. But in this sense of the word, reason is merely technical jji-actical. But we assert here, that reason absolutely out of itself and through itself proposes a purpose to itself; and in so far, reason is absolutely practical. The practical dignity of reason is its own absoluteness, its determinability solely through itself and through nothing outside of itself. Whosoever does not recognize this absoluteness — and each one can only find it in himself through contemplation — will always regard reason as merely a faculty of argumen- tation, which cannot put itself in motion until objects are given to it from without ; and will always find it incomprehensible how reason can be absolutely practical, since he cannot cease to believe that the conditions of the executability of a law must be recognized before the law can be accepted. EE^fA^KS. A. Tlie views which present themselves from this standpoint in regard to a whole system of philosopliy are of a manifold character, and I cannot refrain from mentioning at least one. " Pweason determines through itself its own acting; THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 63 tjccausc it is ficlf-contcniplating or finite. This proposi- tion has a double significance, since the acting of reason may be regarded in a twofold manner. In a science of morality it is chiefly related to the so-called acting which is accompanied by the consciousness of freedom, and which is, therefore, recognized as acting even on the standpoint of common consciousness; in other words, to willing and working. But this proposition holds, likewise, good in regard to that acting which is discovered to be an acting only from the transcendental point of view, namely, the acting in thinking. Now, reason does not necessarily observe the law which it proposes to itself as a moral being, because that law addresses itself to its freedom; but it does necessarily observe that which it proposes to itself as a thinking being, because the intelligence, in contem- plating that law, is active but not freely active. Hence the whole system of reason — as well in regard to that which shall be, and that which is postulated as being in consequence of. this shall, as also in regard to that which is found as immediately being — is predeter- mined as necessary through Reason itself. Now, Reason ought certainly to be able to dissolve that which it has composed according to its own laws by those same laws ; and hence reason necessarily can completely know itself. In other words: an analysis of the whole procedure of reason, or a complete system of reason, is possible. Thus in our theory all parts join together, and the necessary presupposition is possible only on condition of the results arrived at. Either all philosophy must be abandoned, or the absolute autonomy of reason must be admitted. Only on this presupposition is the conception of a philosophy rational. All doubts, or all denials of the possibility of a system of reason, are grounded on the presupposition of an Jieteronomy^ or on the presupposition 64 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. that reason can be determined by sojnctliing outside of itself. But such a presupposition is absolutely irrational, is a contradiction of reason. B. The principle of morality is the necessary thouglit of the intelligence that it ought to determine its freedom^ without exception in accordance with the conception of self-determination. It is a thourjht, and not a feeling or a contemplation, although this thought grounds itself upon the intellectual conten^plation of the absolute activity of the intelligence. It is a pure thought, with which not the least particle of feeling or sensuous contemplation can be mixed up, smce it is the immediate conception which the pure intelligence has of itself as such. It is a necessary thought, since it is the form in which the freedom of tlie intelligence is thought. It is t\\Q first and absolute thought, for since it is the thought of the thinking itself, it does not ground itself upon any other thought as its sequence or as con- ditioned by that other thought. The content of this thought is, that the free bemg shall act in a certain manner, for the shalling is the expression of a determinedness of freedom. The content of this thought is, moreover, that the free being shall determine its freedom by a law, and that this law shall be none other than the conception of absolute self-deter- mination (absolute undeterminability through anything external); and, finally, that this law shall be valid without any exception, because it involves the origmal determinedness of the free being. C. In our argument we proceeded from the presupposi- tion that the essence of the Ego consists in its self-deter- mination ; or, rather, since this self-determination can be thought as actual only under certain conditions not yet established, in its tendency to self-determination. We THE PRINCIPLE OP MORALITY. 65 have investigated liow, under this presupposition, the Ego must think itself. Hence, we started from an objective being of the Ego. But is the Ego in itself objective, or without relation to a consciousness ? Was not the Ego whereof we commenced speaking in our tirst chapter related to a consciousness ? We dou])tless related it to our own pliilosophizing consciousness. But now let us relate it to the consciousness of the original Ego, for only thus do we get a correct view from the transcendental standpoint of our deduction; for our deduction is not dogmatic, but transcendentally idealistic. We do not claim to evolve a tliinking from a being in itself, for the Ego is only for and in the knowledge of the Ego. Our claim, on the contrary, is to establish an original system of thinking itself, an original connecting of the assertions of reason with each other. The rational being posits itself as absolutely self- determining because it is self-determining, and it is self-determining because it posits itself as such ; it is in this relation subject- object = X. Now, in so positing itself, it posits itself partly as free, in the above signifi- cance of this word, whilst partly it subordinates its freedom to the law of self-determination. These two conceptions are involved in the conception of tlie self- determination of the Ego, or the conception of self-deter- mination involves these conceptions: both are one and the same. D. Certain objections and misunderstandings may render necessary, moreover, the following: — We do not assert that on the standpoint of common consciousness we become conscious of the connection of the deduced thought with its grounds. For it is well known that the insight into the grounds of facts of consciousness belongs to philosophy, and is possible only from the transcendental point of view. Nor do wc assert that this thought occurs amongst the facts 66 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. of common consciousness in the generality and ab- straction wherein we have represented it ; or, in other words, that we can become immediately con- scious of such a hiw for our freedom in general. It is only through philosophical abstraction that we arrive at this generality, and this abstraction is undertaken in order to be able to establish the problem definitely. In common consciousness there occurs only a determined and never an abstract thinking as fact, for all abstraction presupposes a free acting of the intelligence. AVe only assert, therefore, this : AVhen we think determined actual acts as free, we feel constrained to think, at the same time, that they ought to be done in a certain manner. Some men may never be in a position to experience the truth of this our assertion in the thinking of their own acts, because they are actuated, perhaps, by passions and desires, and never become clearly conscious of their own freedom; but everyone will certainly discover the truth of this assertion in judging those acts of other persons which he considers to be free acts. Hence, if anyone denies the principle of morality, so far as his own person is concerned, as a fact of his consciousness, he can do so, and it cannot be proven to him, since a universal morality cannot exist as immediate fact of consciousness by its very conception. But if he denies the application of this moral law to separate free acts, it will be easy enough to show him, at least in his judgment of the acts of others, that he always does make use of that application. 2so one, for instance, gets angry at the flame wdiich consumes his house, but he does at the man who set the house on fire. Were he not a fool to get angry at the man, unless he presupposes that the man could have acted and ought to have acted otherwise ? BOOK SECOND. DEDUCTION OF THE REALITY AND APPLICABILITY OF THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. Preliminaey. I. AVhat does the reality or applicability of a principle, or of a conception, signify ? And what reality does attach in particular to our present conception of morality ? A conception has reality and applicability signifies : our world — i.e., the world of our consciousness — is deter- mined by it in a certain respect. It belongs to those conceptions through which we think objects, and there are certain characteristics in it for us, because we thinlc them through this conception. To hunt up the reality of a conception, signifies, therefore : to investigate how and in what manner objects are determined by it. I will make tliis clearer by some examples. The conception of causality has reality, for through it there arises in the manifold objects of my world a certain connection, by virtue of which I must proceed from the one to the other, and can conclude from the effect as to the cause, and from a known cause as to the effect : the thinking of the one always, as it were, accompanying the thinking of the other. The conception of Law has reality. For in the infinite sphere of freedom (t.e., of Icing free as objective, for only on this condition do I occupy the standpoint of law) I necessarily think my sphere as limited, and hence think freedom, or free beings, outside of me, with whom I come in contact through 67 68 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. that conception 1 tirst arn\u community of free beings. ^^^^ i>nf in the detcrmmation of our \voil(i uir u.„ „e have here ch.cfly at h««'. > om the ^^^^.^1^^ its cause, I can not only have *e desne but power, to treat n.en as > they ^a no .g,ts. ^^^^ ^^^^ "f;'- itCt con pel physical acknowledgment; the rights does '^'" .<=°™1"^' P/„_„ elTect has its cause theoretical conviction that every does so. nrlncinle or conception, of ^\r"Tlrc:^:^pt: ntas^wtdnced asi deter- r-Ajr^iniior.^^^^^^^^ this concepfon^ Bu th. d ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^_^^^^^^.^^ ^^ The conception of morality, as its cie aoes not rel- to ^^^^^^^^^ ^^ ^ ^ o. reason, is to be. it proceeas puic j ,.,,^,,;^po nothin^ but, without any ^^ ^•St^^r::^^- self-determumt,on. It PaJ« ' ^^j„„ ^^^„„„h objects but rather contradic to aU clet ^^ .^^ ^^^^^^,^ ^^^ ^ i:::!t=tha?r;rthin£oMtr^^^^^^^ il-:tÄ— i/rr.ethi..lt.can THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 69 only be an idea; a mere tliourrjit in us, of which we do not at all pretend that something in the external world corresponds to it. The first question would, tlicrefore, seem to be : what, then, is this idea ? or, since ideas cannot be taken hold of, what is the manner in which to describe them ? In popular laiiguage : " You tell us that we shall do something ; what is it that we shall do ? " 2. That which we think in virtue of the conception of morality, or the object determined by that conception, is the idea of what we shall do. But we can do nothing: nnless we have an object of our activity in the sensuous world. Whence this object, and through what is it determined ? I shall [ought to] do something signifies: I shall produce it externally, or, since it proposes to me an infinite end, as it never is, but always merely shall he, I shall in all my external actions work so as constantly to draw nearer to that end. But I must always have an object of my activity, since I am finite, and hence I cannot produce wliat I am to produce out of nothing. The sensuous world nmst, therefore, contain something which is to be the object of my activity in my endeavour to approach the realization of that infinite and unattain- able idea. What, then, is this sphere of the sensuous world, to which the requirements of the moral law in me relate themselves ? How am I to arrive at a know- ledge, and particularly at a systematic knowledge, of this sphere ? Moreover, how am I to know how this law requires me to act in regard to each special object in this sphere ? It is immediately clear that that upon which I am to act must be of such a nature that I can act upon it, or that I must have the physical power to mould it. Let us explain this. 70 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. The froo rational being acts as an intelligence, i.e., according to a conception of the effect to be jjroduced, which concei)tion exists in advance of the production of the effect. Hence the ol)ject of its activity must at least be of such a nature that it can be thought by the intelli- gence, and can be so thouglit as either Ijcsing or not l)eing (i.e., as accidental in regard to its l^eing), the intelligence then choosing between the being or not being thereof, by producing its conception of the end to be achieved. Here we have immediately a limited sphere of the general sphere of sensuousness, wherein to look for that which is physically possible to our power of causality. For there is a large sphere in our world which appears to ns as necessary, and which we can never think, and hence also not will — since our willing is conditioned by our laws of thinking, and is always preceded by a con- ception — except as necessary. Another sphere of our world, however, appears to us as accidental. For instance: I cannot will to posit any thing out of space, since I cannot think it out of space ; on the other hand, I can very well think a thing in another 2')loxe in space than that which it occupies ; hence I also can will to change its place. A thorough and complete philosophy has to show up the ground why some things thus appear to us as accidental ; and by doing this, at the same time to fix the sphere and the limits of this accidental. At present we have not even proposed these questions to ourselves, much less answered them. In making this investigation we may, perhaps, be guided by the remark that the characteristic of acci- dentalness is usually a proof that we think something as product of our freedom ; or, at least, that we think all the products of our freedom as accidental (a propo- sition established and proved in the general science of knowledge). Thus, for instance, representation, when related to the being of the represented object, is held THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 71 to bo accidental. The being of the object, we judge, might well be, allhongh tiiere were no representation of it; and this judgment we make because wc find the representation to ])e, in its form, a product of tlie absolute freedom of thiidcing, but in its content a pro- duct of the necessity of thinking. Perhaps it may result, from an analogy, that all that is accidental in the world of appearances is to be in a certain sense deduced from the conception of freedom, and to be regarded as the product of freedom. Let us assume this proposition to be confirmed ; what can it signify ? Certainly not that these objects are posited through the ideal activity of the intelligence in its function as productive power of imagination; for this, in a science of morality, is presupposed as well known from the fundamental science of knowledge, and does not apply merely to the objects of our world which are thought as accidental, but also to those which are thought as necessary. Nor can it signify that they are posited as products of our actual practical causality in the sensuous world, for this contradicts the presuppo- sition that they are regarded as things actually existing independently of us. Hence the assumed proposition would have to signify, perhaps, about this, that our freedom itself is a theoretical determining principle of our world. Let us explain this. Our world is absolutely nothing but the Non Ego, is posited solely to explain the limited- ness of the Ego, and hence receives all its determinations only through opposition to the Ego. Now the Ego is to have the exclusive predicate of freedom. If the assumed proposition should be confirmed, therefore, this same predicate of the Ego, freedom, would be a determining principle of the opposite to the Ego, the external world ; and thus the conception of being free would furnish a theoretical law of thinking which rules with necessity over the ideal activity of the intelligence. THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. Examples of this fioit of a dctcr,mnalio,i <.t an object wc have already mot in our seionce of r.ghte. Locau.se wc are free, we then posilcd the objeet. «our world as modifiahle, assun,ed other rational '^^^^'^^ and ascribed to ourselves hod.es uioveuble tluough ou. mere will, etc., etc. But in the present mstance our Lvestigation will have to go still further back, and establish the proofs of these assertions sUll more ex- baustively, since we have now arrived at the %eiy ultimate and primary of all reason. If the assumption that a part of our external word is determined through freedom as theoretical principle should be confirmed, and if it should appear that his part constitutes the sphere of the objects of our rf«(« Ln the law of freedom will but have continued |« a cractical law addressed to consciousness, what it has itseit commenced as theoretical principle without conscious- ness of the intelligence. It will have determined fo itself, and through itself, the sphere wherein ' ™1«^. >' cannot utter anything now in its present quality which it has not already uttered in its previous quahty. ih s law of freedom has first determined somewhat m general, and has foüM this somewhat as constituted m this or that manner; and now it also preserves this somewhat in that same qualitativeness thereof by means of our practical freedom which that law controls. Hence the content of this law in its practical function might also be h«B expressed-, act in conformity w-ith thy cognition of the orignal determinations (of the final ends of the external tilings. For instance, theoretically the con- cention of my freedom involves the proposition ; Al men are free The same conception, regarded practically, results in the command: You shall treat every man as a free bein". Again, the theoretical proposition says : Jly body is instrument of my activity in the sensuous wor . The same proposition, regarded as practical command says- Treat your body only as a means of reall^lns your THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 73 freedom and self-determination, but never treat it as an end in itself, or as object of an enjoyment. Now if all these assnm])tion3 should l^e confirmed, the principle of morality would receive quite anotlicr sij^nifi- cance yet than the one previously estaljlislicd ; and the question which we proposed above : whence do we get the objects for the proposed activity, and how are we to arrive at a knowledge of them ? would ]je completely answered. The principle of morality would show itself to be both a theoretical principle, which as such furnishes itself its own content (the determined content of the law), and a practical principle, which as such furnishes itself its own form, that of a command. The moral principle would thus return into itself, and stand in reciprocal relation with itself, and we should thus receive a complete and satisfactory system from one point. Something outside of us has this or that final end, because we are to treat it thus ; and we are to treat it thus because it has this final end. We should thus have arrived at the desired idea of that which we ought to do, and at the same time at the sulstrate, in which we are to approach the realiza- tion of this idea. 3. What does the conception of a physical power to mould objects signify, and how does this conception arise in us ? Let us first ask : Of what are we really conscious when we believe to be conscious of our causality in the sensuous world ? What can this immediate conscious- ness involve, and what can it not involve ? We are immediately conscious of our conception of an end, or of our real willing ; of an absolute self-determin- ing, through which our whole soul is gathered together, as it were, into one point. We, moreover, become immedi- ately conscious of the reality and of an actual sensation of the object (which previously we only thought in the con- ception of the end) as a given object in the sensuous world. (Somebody might interrupt us here and say, we are also conscious of our labours in the production which 74 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. occurs between the resolve of the will and its realization in the sensuous world. But I n-.ply, that it is not a particular consciousness, but simply the already pointed out and gradually realized consciousness of our satisfac- tion. This consciousness begins with the forming of the resolve, and successively continues as the willing is suc- cessively continued, until the whole conception of the end is comjiktdy realized. Hence this consciousness is only the synthetic uniting of the two estal^lishcd kinds of con- sciousness, the willing and the willed, as an activity.) But we are on no account conscious of iht conntdion between our willing and the sensation of the reality of what we willed. According to our assertion, our will is to be the cause of this reality. How may this be ? Or, transcendentally spoken: how may we come to assume this conscious harmony between a conception of an end and an actual object outside of us, the ground of which harmony is to lie in the former and not in the latter ? Let me clear up this question through opposition. The conception of cognition is to be a reconstruction of an external somewhat, but the conception of an end, or purpose, is to be a preconstruction for an external some- what. And as in the case of the former conception of cognition there arises very properly a question con- cerning the ground (not of the harmony in itself, for this would be nonsense, since unity and harmony between opposites exists only in so far as an intelligence thinks it, but) of the assuming of such a harmony between the conception (as secondary) and the thing (as jyrimarg) ; so in the case of the latter conception of a purpose we ask for the ground of assuming a harmony between the thing, as secondary, and the conception, as primary. In the case of the conception of cognition that question was answered in this manner: both the thing and the CONCEPTION ARE ONE AND THE SAME, ONLY VIEWED IN DIFFERENT WAYS; THE CONCEPTION, PROVIDED IT IS A NECESSARY CONCEPTION OF REASON, IS ITSELF THE THING J THE PRINCIPLE OE MORALITY. 75 AND THE THINO IS NOTHING BUT THE NECESSARY COX- CEPTION OF ITSELF. How, if we were to receive the same answer in the case of the conception of a purpose, namely, that that WHICH WE RELIEVE TO HAVE PRODUCED IN THE EXTERNAL WORLD, IS NOTHING BUT OUR CONCEPTION OF A PURPOSE ITSELF, REGARDED IN A CERTAIN MANNER? with this dis- tinction, that the liarmony in this case occurs only under a certain condition, characterized in this manner: Of whatsoever stands under this condition we say, "This we can do " ; but of whatsoever does not stand under it we say, "This we can not do." That which I willed is, when it becomes real, an oljject of a sensation. Hence a determined feeling must occur, in virtue whereof it is posited, since all reality occurs for me only on this condition. My willing, therefore, must, in the present case, be accompanied by a feeling relating itself to that which I willed ; and by this result we gain at least so much that the sphere of our investigation is solely in the Ego, and that we have to speak only of what occurs in ourselves, but not of what occurs outside of us. Feeling is always the expression of our limitedness. But in our special case there is a transition from a feeling related to the object as it is independently of us, to another feeling related to the same object as it is to be modified through our activity. Hence, since the latter is to be a product of our freedom, there occurs a transition from a limited to a less limited condition. We are now able to express our problem more definitely thus : How is an actual extension of our limits connected with self-determination through freedom {or willing) ; or transcendentally expressed: Row do we come to assume such an extension ? Every assumption of a new reality outside of me is a further determination of my world, a change of my world in my consciousness. Now, my world is determined 76 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. tlironjj;h oppo.sition to myself, and my original world, •i.e., as I find it indcjicndently cxistin;:;; through oppo- sition to myself, fis I find myself necessarily existing. Hence a change in (a changed manner of viewing) my world must have a change in (a changed manner of viewing) myself as its basis. If I were, therefore, able to change something in myself through my will, this would necessarily also change my will ; and if the possibility of the former were demonstrated, the possil)ility of the latter were explained at the same time. My world is changed, signifies : / am changed ; my world is determined differently, signifies : / am determined differently. The prolilem, at present, is to be put into this shape : "What does this signify: / change myself? If we only answer this question, then the other question. How I can change the world, is answered at the same time. Whenever I but will, I determine myself, concentrate my whole essence away from everything indefinite and merely determinable into one solitary determined point, as we have just stated. At present: / change myself; but not all willing results in the occurrence of the willed. Hence the Ego which is to be changed by every act of the will, and that Ego through the change whereof our view of the world changes likewise, must be different, and from a determination of the former a determination of the latter must not result necessarily. Now, which E^o is the former Ego ? This we know from our second chapter, namely, that Ego which through absolutely reflecting itself has torn itself loose from itself, and posited itself as independent ; or in other words, the Ego which is solely dependent upon its conception. Now, is there still another Ego ? According to what we have said undoubtedly, namely, the Ego ß-om which the former Ego (wherein the intelligence has precedence) has torn itself loose in order to posit itself as independent; or, in other words, the objective tending and impelling Ego. THE PRINCirLE OF MORALITY. 77 Let lis assume this inipclliii<; to be directed upon a certain determined determination of the will, as it doubt- less is, since it can only be thought as a determined im|)elling, Now let us posit a free determination of tlie will which docs not harmonize, or is not rcquiied liy this impulsion or tendency; and to posit this is certainly allowable, since the freedom of the will stands aljsolutcly under no condition except that of thinkaljility, and has expressly torn itself loose from the inlluencc of the impulse. In this case the Ego would remain, so to speak, divided ; the impulse or tendency would not harmonize with the will, and I would be conscious merely of my willing, of my mere empty willing. A part of the Ego would be changed, namely, the condition of its will; but not the whole Ego, since the tendency would remain in the same condition, i.e., unsatisfied, not having acquired the will which did occur, but rather an utterly different one. If we posit, on the contrary, the will determination to be in harmony with the impulse, then that separation no longer occurs ; the whole united Ego is changed, and our world also is now to be deter- mined by this change. In order to unite all the views thus obtained, let us glance back at what we have said above. It is very possible, as we have assumed, that our world itself be determined in a certain respect, in accordance with the just mentioned original tendency of the Ego, or with freedom itself as a theoretical principle. But that in accordance with which another (the world) is to be determined must be itself determined. Hence in this connection we have freedom as objective, and therefore the original and essential tendency of all reason. Through this freedom as theoretical principle our world would, therefore, be determined, and through this principle more specially our world would receive the character of acci- dentalness, and hence of the possibiHty to change it through free resolves. 78 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. The result of all we have problematically cstaLUshcd would, therefore, be tliis: the ground of tlie connection of the appearances with our willing is the connection of our willing with nature. We can do that to which our nature impels us, and we can not do that to which our nature does not impel us, but which we resolve to do by unrestrained freedom of imagination. It is to be remarked that the possibility of fulfilling • the moral law is here determined througli the moral law itself (automatically), and not through an external prin- ciple (not hcteronomically). To remove all misapprehension, we add that this impelling of our nature which determines our physical faculties need not be the moral law itself. For we also have the physical power to execute immoral acts. Here, therefore, it will probably be necessary to draw a new line of distinction. We may say, however, so much, that the commands of the moral law must fall within the lines of our physical power; and by saying this we have at once removed the objection that it is impossible to satisfy the requirements of the moral law. The object of these preliminary remarks was to sec what our present deduction has to accomplish. This object we have attained. It is clear that our deduction must establish the proof of the following :— A. The rational being which, according to the previous book, is to posit itself as absolutely free and independent, cannot do this without at the same time determining its world theoretically in a certain manner. That thinking of its self, and this thinking of its world, occur through the same act, and are absolutely one and the same think- ing ; both are integral parts of one and the same synthesis. Freedom is a theoretical principle. B. Freedom, which our first book also showed to be a practical law, relates itself to those world-determina- tions, and requires their maintenance and completion. 8o THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. It likewise appears from this consideration that, although we enter in the present book upon a difierent sphere, we do not do so by a leap, but in a gradual progression of systematic argument, and tliat our present book takes up the thread precisely where the first Ijook left it. In that book the assertion was, that, as sure as we become conscious of ourselves, we ascribe to ourselves an absolute power of freedom. At present we ask : How is this possible ? and thus connect the conditions about to be ascertained with the consciousness of freedom, and by its means with immediate self-consciousness, which latter connecting does in reality constitute the essence of a philosophical deduction. It is true, as will soon appear, that the proofs aljout to be established in this book require the same inner con- templation of the activity whereby we originate the conceptions here investigated, which was required in the first book. Hence we might certainly have shaped the l^ropositions of this book just as well into the form of problems; and our present first proposition, for instance, into the problem : To definitely think our power of freedom, etc. But apart from the intention to show the freedom of our method, and to protect our system- against too monotonous an arrangement, we likewise had in view to state with precision the point upon which attention is to be directed in determining that thought, since there are various conditions and determinations of it. Explanatory. Doubtless everyone who hears the words of the above first proposition will understand them to signify: It is simply impossible that anyone can think his power of freedom without at the same time imagining an objective somewhat upon which he acts with this freedom ; although it be no determined object, but merely the form of objectivity in general. Thus, indeed, the words CHAPTER I. DEDUCTION OF AN OBJECT OF OUR ACTIVITY IN GENERAL. First Proposition. — The rational hcing cannot ascribe a poiuer of activity to itself without at the same time thinking an external someiuhat upon which thai activity is directed. Preliminary PiEMARK. All the propositions advanced in our first book arc merely formal, and have no material significance. "VVc see that we shall, but do neither comprehend u-Jiat we shall, nor wherein to represent what we sliall. This arises, indeed, from the same circumstance which gives rise to all formal philosophizing; we have established ■abstract but not concrete thought; we have described a reflection, as such, in general, without, however, deter- mining it, or establishing the conditions of its possibility. This was not a fault, since systematic progression com- pelled such a procedure, and since we were well aware all the time that the mere establishing of these formal propositions would not finish our labours, but rather compel u.« to proceed further. This remark points out definitely our present task. We have now to establish the condition of the possibility of the reflection, undertaken in our first book. It will appear that the first condition we shall need is again dependent upon another condition, and that again upon another, etc., and that we shall thus arrive at a series of conditions, which we propose to gather under the form of a series of 'propositions. 19 THE rRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 8l arc to be understood, and in this respect tlicy need no explanation. But in another respect sonic explanations arc certainly necessary as well in regard to the form of our assertion, or the condition under which it is to be valid, as also in regard to the content of the same. So far as the former is concerned, someone might say : You have just now in the first book required us to think the mere power of freedom without any object, and if we were not able to do so all your teachings have been lost on us. I reply : The abstract thinking in philosophy, the possibility whereof is itself conditioned through a pre- vious experience (for our life begins with life and not with philosophy), is quite a diflerent thing from the original and determined thinking on the standpoint of experience. The conception of freedom, as entertained by us in the first book, arose for us through abstraction or through analysis ; but we should not have been at all able thus to originate it, unless we had previously had possession of it as given or found. Now at present we are speaking of this very condition of the primary and not of the pliilosophizing Ego ; and our meaning is, you cannot find yourself as free without finding at the same time in the same consciousness an object upon which your freedom is to be directed. So far as the latter is concerned, it is to be obser\'ed that we assert an absolute synthesis of thinking, of a power and of an ol^ject, hence a reciprocal conditioned- ness of one thinking through another. Xot, as if the one were in time prior to the other, for both are the thought of the same moment ; nay, there is, even if we look merely to the fact that both are thought, no dependence of the one upon the other to be assumed, consciousness being rather irresistibly impelled from the one to the other. But if we look to how both are thought, then wo meet this distinction, that the thinking of freedom is an immediate thinking, in virtue of an intellectual con- templation, -whereas the thinking of the object is a a 82 THE SCIENCE OF ETJHCS. mediated thinkinj^. We do not see the fonner throucih the latter, but we do see the latter through the former. Freedom is our vehicle for the cognition of oljjects, l)ut the cognition of ol)ject8 is not the vehicle for the cogni- tion of our freedom. Finally, two things have been asserted. Firstly, that an object, which is to be external to the intelligence, is thought ; and, secondly, that free activity is related to it, and related in such a manner that the object is deter- mined through the activity and not, vice versa, the activity through the object. Our proof will, therefore, have to establish two things : 1st, the necessity of oppo- sition; and, 2nd, the necessity of relation and of this cUtcrmincd relation. Peoof. A. The rational being cannot ascribe to itself a power of freedom without thinking at the same time many actual and determined acts as possible through its freedom. The latter part of the proposition advances nothing further than the first part ; both are identical. I ascribe freedom to myself, signifies : I think a number of different acts as equally possible through my activity. An insight into the truth of this proposition requires nothing further than to analyze our conception of a power of freedom. • A power, or faculty, is absolutely nothing but a product 'of mere thinking, made in order to connect with it — since finite reason can only think discursively and mediately — an actuality, not posited originally, but originating in time. To think anything else under that conception is not to understand one's self. In our present case we are, however, not to draw a conclusion from the actuality as to the power of activity, as may be well done in . other cases ; but thinking is rather to begin with the power as the first and immediate. Yet even under this con- dition the power cannot be thought without at the same THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 83 time thinking tlie actuality, since both conceptions are synthetically united, and since without the tliinkin;^ of the latter we can neither think a faculty nor anytliing else. I say expressly : actuality must be iliowild (not immediately perceived); must be thought, not (if I may so express myself) as real, but simply as possible, through a mere ideal function of the imagination. Actuality is perceptibility, sensibility. This perceptibility is posited as necessary, not in its essence, but merely in its form. "We ascribe to the Ego the power to produce sensibility, but only tiie power and ' not the actual deed. Tlie question, how reason may originally come to this mere form, will be explained hereafter. At present it sufHces to know that we can think this form, and by its means a mere faculty or power. Now in the present case we are to think a free power of activity, and not a determined power, the manner of manifestation whereof would be involved in its own nature, as is the case in olijects. How does a rational being proceed in order to think such a free power ? We can only describe this procedure, leaving it to each reader to convince himself of the correctness of this our descrip- tion by his own inner contemplation. The Ego posits itself (but only idealiter, i.e., it only represents itself as such, without actually being such or ßnding itself as ■ such in point of fact), as choosing voluntarily amongst opposite determinations of actuality. For instance, this objects A, which we find already determined independently of us, might also be deter- mined otherwise, for instance = X; or also still otherwise, for instance = -X; or still otherwise ad infinitum. Now, whether the Ego chooses either of these determinations, or none of them, leaving A as it is, depends solely upon the freedom of its thinking. But whichever I choose will surely arise for my perception . in the sensuous world, provided I determine myself through the will to pro- duce, it. Only in so far as I thus posit myself, do 84 THE SCIENCE OP ETHICS, I posit iiiysclf as free, i.e., do I tliiiik actuality as dependent upon actual power, wliich is controlled Ijy my mere thinking; as each one must acknowledge, who but clearly thinks this thought. I^t it be observed that in this thinking we do not think a determined somewhat -X, which is to be pro- duced, but merely the general form of determinedncss, i.e., the mere power of the Ego, to select this or that from the range of the accidental, and make it its end. B. The rational being cannot think an act as actual without assuming an external somewhat, upon which the act is directed. Let us once more attentively observe the just described manner of thinking freedom. We said : I think myself in this conception as choosing. Let us now direct our attention altogether to this Ego represented as choosing. It doubtless thinks, and only thinks; hence in choosing we only ascribe ideal activity to it. But it also surely thinks something, floats over something, which holds it enchained ; or, as we usually say to express this relation : There is an objective, for only by means of such a relation is the Ego subjective and ideal. This' objective is not the Ego itself, and cannot be held as belonging to the Ego ; neither to the Ego as intelligence, as such, since to this Ego it is expressly opposited, nor to the Ego as the willing and realiter active Ego, since this Ego is not yet in action, the Ego at present merely deter- mining its choice and not its actual will. This objection is not the Ego, and yet it also is not nothing, but is some- what. It is an object of representation in general, leaving imdecided its reality or perceivability. In other words, it is a Xon Ego, a somewhat which exists outside of me independently of my activity. This objective somewhat is necessarily posited as con- tinuing to exist, and as unchangeable in all these modifi- cations, which are ascribed to the Ego through the THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 85 conception of freedom. Por tlie conception of freedom is based upon tliis, that I ascril)e to myself the power to realize X or-^\ hence that I unite these, opiHjsilc ddcr- 'iiiinatioiis, as oppositcs, in one and the same ihinJcinr/. But this is not possible, unless in this tliinking of the opposites we also think the same as that which is per- manent in the opposed thinking, and to wliich the identity of consciousness may connect. Now this identical somewhat is nothing but that through which thinking itself in its form becomes possible, i.e., the relation to ohjcctivity in general^ and hence precisely the Non Ego shown up. This Non Ego is thought as unchanged in all possible determinations through freedom, for only on this condition can freedom itself be thought. Hence there exists outside of us an originally given {i.e., through thinking itself in its form posited) infinitely modifiable substance, which substance is that upon which activity is directed. Finally: This substance is related to actual activity, and actual activity is related to it; and this substance is in truth nothing but the means to think that activity. It, in fact, limits actual causality to mere forming, or modifying, and excludes it from creating or annihilating matter. Hence we ascribe reality also to this substance, just as we ascribe it to everything which limits actual causality. Here, then, exists a real object of our activity outside of us, and we have proven what we had to prove. . . CHAPTER II. DEDUCTION OF AN OBJECT OF OUR ACTIVITY IN GENEKAL {Conlinucd), Second Proposition. — Neither can the rational Innj ascribe to itself a jtowcr of freedom without finding in itself an actual exercise of this pmver, or an actual free willing. Preliminary. Our deduction still stands at the same point where it commenced. It has been proven that we ascribe to our- selves a power of freedom. The question at present is: How is this ascribing of it to ourselves possible ? Its one external condition, namely, that an object of free activity must be posited, has just now been shown up We have now to establish an internal condition of it, namely, that of our own state, wherein, alone it is possible. An explanation this second proposition does not require. Its words are clear ; and should they never- theless involve any ambiguity, that will doubtless be sufficiently removed in the proof itself. That the con- nection asserted in this and in all future propositions signifies a synthetical connection in one and the same thinking (the above proposition signifying, therefore, for instance, that the power of freedom cannot be thouglit and is never thought unless there arises in one and the same state of mind of liim who thinks it an actual exercise of that power) — this is presupposed as well 86 THE PRTNCIPLE OF MORALITY. 87 known from all wc have said before, and will hereafter always be presupposed by us as well known. Proof. The conception of a power of freedom is, as we know, the conception or the purely ideal representation of a free willing. At present we assert that this purely ideal representation is nob possible without the reality and perception of a willing. Hence we assert the necessary connection of a mere representation and a willing. Now, since we cannot well understand tlieir connection without clearly knowing their distinction, we must above all explain the characteristic distinction between represen- tation and willing ; and next proceed, since actual willing is also to appear in consciousness, to state the distinction between the mere ideal representation from the percep- tion of a willing. Only when we shall have done this will it be possil)le for us to prove that the former is not possible without the latter. As subjectivity in general is related to objectivity, so mere representation as such is related to willing. Origin- ally I find myself as subject and object at the same time, and what the one signifies can only be comprehended through opposing and relating it to the other. Neither is determined througli itself, but that which is common to both and absolutely determined in itself is self-activity, and in so far as both are distinct, they are determinable only mediately, the subjective being that which relates itself to the objective, and the objective being that to which the subjective is attached, etc., etc. Now I am absolutely self-active, and therein does my essence con- sist: my free activity, immediately as such, if objective, is ray willing; and the same free activity of mine, if subjective, is my thinking (taking the latter word in its widest significance as embracing all the manifestations of the intelligence as such). Hence willing can only be 88 THE SCIENCE OF ET/ //CS. described tlirough opposition to tliinkin^f, and thinkiiic,^ only through opposition to willing. A genetic dcscrij^- tion of willing, therefore, as arising from thinking, can be thus given : We think willing as preceded by free, active compre- hension of its end, or as preceded by an absolute creation of this end through thinking. In this production of the conception of the end, the state of the Ego is purely ideal and subjective. The Ego represents: represents with absolute self-activity, for the conception of the end is purely product of the representation, and represents in relation to a future willing, for otherwise the conception would not be the conception of an end, but does only represent, and does not will. Meanwhile the Ego actually wills — wills that end ; a state, which each one easily distinguishes in ordinary consciousness from the mere representation of what he might will. Now what is there contained in this willing ? Absolute self-activity as in thinking, but with another character attached to it. "Which, then, is this character? Evidently the relation to a knowing. My willing is not itself to be a knowing, but / am to knovj viy loillinfj. Hence the distinctive character is the character of mere objectivity. That, which was previously subjective, now becomes objective, and becomes objective because a new subjective is added to it, or leaps, as it were, out of the absolute fulness of self-activity. It is well to observe the change in the sequence of the links. Originally the Ego is neither subjective nor objective, but both. This identity of both we cannot think, however; hence we only think both in succession, and through this thinking make the one dependent upon the other. Thus in cognition, an objective (the thing) is changed into a subjective, a representation, for the con- ception of cognition is regarded as the reconstruction of an existence. On the other hand, the conception of an end is to be the prototype of an existence. The subjec- THE rniNCIPLE OF MORALITY. '89 •tive must, therefore, change into an objective, and thin change must commence in the Ego, the only ininiediaU; object of our consciousness. So much in regard to the distinction between representation and willing. The mere representation of a willing is the same repre- sentation that we have just now. produced in ourselves, i.e., the representation of an absolute (through absolute self-activity eflected) transition of the subjective into the .objective, for this is the general form of all free willing. How, now, is this merely ideal representation of a willing to be distinguished from the perception of an actual willing? In the former the ideal activity itself produces that form of willing through freedom ; and I am conscious of the act of this producing. But in tlie latter the ideal activity does not posit itself as producing this form, finding, on the contrary, the willing as given in actuality and itself in its representation thereof tied to this its given form. One more remark. The perception of the actual, i.e., of the actually existing object, usually proceeds from a feeling, and it is only in virtue of this feeling that pro- ductive imagination posits something. But it is different in the case of the perception of an actual willing. I cannot say that I feel my willing, although there are • philosophers who, in a careless use of language, do say so ; for I only feel the limitation of my activity, but my willing is that very activity itself. What sort of con- sciousness is, then, this consciousness of a willing ? Evidently an immediate contemplation of my own activity, but as an object of the subjective, and not as the subjective itself, which latter is, therefore, not contemplated as self-active. In short, this consciousness is intellectual contemplation. And now we can easily furnish the proof of our second proposition. : ' The subjective is originally not without an objective, for only thus is the subjective a subjective, as the 9Ö THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. conception of the Ego hIiows. Consciousness necessarily begins with the connection of both. ]3iit in tlie mere representation of a willing we only have a subjective, whereas its objective, or more definitely, the mere form of the objective, is first produced through that very subjective itself. This is certainly possible, if the intelli- gence reproduces one of its determined states, and hence if the actual state (existence) of the intelligence is already presup^wsed in philosophical abstraction; but originally it is not possil)le. The production must have already been accomplished, if a reproduction is to be possible. Hence the original representation of our power of freedom is necessarily accompanied by an actual willing. Strictly speaking, our proof is now finished; but it is well to remend^er, lest we should lose what we have gained in our previous investigations, that, vice, versa, the perception of a willing is not possible without the ideal representation of a power of freedom, or, which signifies the same, of the form of willing ; and that, therefore, we assert most decidedly the synthetical union of both the thoughts just now distinguished. This can easily be shown thus : I am to become conscious of a willing ; but this is a willing solely in so far as it is posited as free; and it is posited as free solely in so far as its determined- ness is derived from a freely-produced conception of an end. The form of all willing must be ascribed to this particular willing ; for only thus am I the willing, and is the subject of willing identical with the subject of the perception of this willing. Let no one be confused by this, that the production of the conception of an end must then be posited in a moment previous to the moment of willing, which, as we have shown, is not possible, since I have neither being nor comprehension in advance of the perception of a willing. This production of the conception is not prior in regard to time, but rather it and the willing occur in THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 91 aliRolutcly tlio same moment. Wc only think the deter- minedncss of the willing dependent upon the conception. There is no priority of time here, but merely a logical l)riority — a priority of thinking. To state tersely all we have now explained. Originally I contemplate my activity as object, and in so far neces- wirily as determined, i.e., as not all the activity I know full well I might ascribe to myself, but as merely a limited quantum of that activity. This contemplated activity is that which in all human languages is tersely called willing, and which, is well known to all men, and from which, as the philosopher has to show, all conscious- ness starts, being made possible solely through it. But it is a willing, and my willing, and an immediately perceiv- able willing solely in so far as the contemplated deter- minedness of the activity is to have no external ground, but is to be solely grounded in my self. But if it is thus grounded, then it is necessarily grounded as we have shown in my thinking ; since besides willing we have nothing but thinking, and since all objective can well be deduced from a thinking; and it is in this manner that the determinedness of my willing is necessarily thought, as soon as a willing, as such, is persevered in. CHArXER III. DEDUCTION OF THE ACTUAL CAUSALITY OF THE RATIONAL BEING. Third Proposition. — The rational Icivg cannot find in itself an application of its freedom, or a willinrj, witJiout at the same time ascribing to itself an actual external caiisality. Prelimixauy. Our deduction advances a step. I cannot ascribe to myself a power of freedom without finding myself as willing. Such was our first assertion. But now we add moreover : I cannot do this, cannot find myself as actually willing without finding also something else in me. Or to state it in other words: AVhatsoever may be possible in the course of consciousness by means of previous ex- perience and . free abstraction, consciousness originally clearly commences no more with the representation of a mere impotent willing than with the representation of our power to will. So far as we see as yet, consciousness begins with a perception of our actual caxLsality in the sensuous woiid. This causality we deduce from our willing, and the determinedness of this our willing from 'a freely created conception of an end. Thus it appears that the conception of freedom is mediately conditioned by the now to be deduced per- ception of an actual causality, and since that conception conditions self-consciousness, self-consciousness must also 9» THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 93 be coiKliiioncd by ibo latter. Hence all we bavc hiUicrto deduced, and may yet deduce, is one and tlic Hanic syii- tbetical consciousnesa, tbo Bcparate parts wliereof can certainly 1)e separated in pliilosopliical aljstraction, l>ut are on no account separated in original consciousness. It is enough to have stated this once for all. Proof. I find myself willing only in so far as my activity is to be put in motion through a determined conception. My activity in willing is necessarily a determined activity, as has been sufficiently estaldished. But in the mere activity, as such, as pure activity, nothing is distinguisli- able or determinable. Activity is the simplest contem- plation — mere inner agility, and nothing else. Activity is not to be detennined through itself, and yet must be determined if consciousness is to be possible, • signifies: Activity is to be determined through and l)y means of its oj)positc ; hence through the mode of its limitedness, and only under this condition is a mani- fold of activity, or are many and particular acts possible. But the manner of my limitedness I cannot absolutely and intellectually contemplate through myself, but only feel in sensuous experiences. But if an activity is to be limited, and if its limitedness is to be felt, this limited- ness must have existence (of course, for me, and not in itself). Now everything that is sensuously to be con- templated is necessarily a quantum, at present only a quantum filling up a time moment. But that which fills up a time moment is itself an infinitely divisible mani- fold, and hence the perceivable limitedness must be itself a manifold. At present the Ego is to be posited as active. It must, therefore, be posited as removing and breaking through a manifold of limitation and resistance in a suc- cession (for even in the single moment there is succession, 5^ THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. Since otherwise no duration of time would arise from the mere joining' together of single moments). In othei words : The Ey trying to begin consciousness with abstraction (as philosophy, indeed, does begin), and by mistaking that which was to be explained, viz., actual consciousness, for the explanation itself, viz, philosophy, the latter science has been turned into a tissue of absurdities. 4. Only through such a statement of the matter as we have just given, is the absoluteness of the Ego, as its essential character, retained. Our consciousness starts from the immediate consciousness of our activity; and only by means of it do we find ourself passive. The non- Ego does not affect the Ego as has been generally supposed, but vice versa. It is not the non-Ego which penetrates into the Ego, but the Ego which proceeds out of itself into the non-Ego. Thus we have to express this relation through sensuous contemplation, whereas, .transcendentally, it should be expressed : We find ourselves originally limited not through our limitations drawing in upon us — for in that case the cancelling of our reality would also cancel our consciousness of it — but through our extending and in extending our limits. Again, in order to go out of itself, the Ego must bo posited as overcoming the resistance. Here, again, the primacy of reason, in so far as reason is practical, is asserted. Everything starts from activity and from the activity of the Ego. The Ego is the first principle of all 96 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. movement, of all life, of all deeds and events. If tlie non-Ejio influences us, it does not do so within our sphere, but within its own sphere. It afTects us through resisting us, and it would not resist unless wo first directed our activity upon it. It does not attack us, but we attack it. CHAriEPt IV. DETERMINATION OF THE CAUSALITY OF THE RATIONAL BEING THROUGH ITS INTERNAL CHARACTER. Fourth Proposition. — The rational being mnnot ascribe caiLSality to itself without determining the same in a certain manner through its own conception. Preliminary, Our proposition is unclear and ambiguous. The causality of the rational being in the sensuous world may well be supposed, and will shortly show itself, to stand under various restrictions and conditions; and on the first glance it is hard to say which of these is meant by the certain manner of determinedness mentioned in our proposition. But we have in our method itself the surest means against all confusion. It must be the determinedness which conditions immediately the per- ception of our causality, which is meant, and what sort of a determinedness this is will appear from a deduction. The conditions which ac^ain determine this determined- ness we shall show afterwards. But in order to know from the beginning, whereof we really speak, and to give a thread for the direction of our attention, let us first try to guess from common consciousness what this determinedness may be. (It is scarcely necessary to mention that this guess is not to prove anything, but merely to prepare the proof.) It has already been stated that we cannot will or effect H 97 98 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. something in violation of the necessary laws of thinking, since wo cannot even think it, and that we cannot like- wise create or annihilate matter, l)ut merely .separate and connect it, the ground whereof is also stated in its proper place. But even in this separating and connecting of matter or sul)stance we are hound to ol)ey a certain order. In most cases we cannot innnediately realize our end through our will, l»ut must make nse of various means, existing previously and independently of us, as the only proper means to effect our purpose. Let our end be = X. Instead of directly realizing X, we are, perhaps, compelled to realize A first as the only means to get to B, and B as the only means to get to C, etc., until we arrive, through a series of mediating ends, mutually conditioning each other, at our final end X. In fact, we can do all that we can will to do, and the only difference is that we cannot always do it imme- diately and at once, but in a certain order of proceeding. (It is said, for instance, that man cannot tiy. "Why should man not be able to do it? Of course, man cannot fly immediately as he can walk innnediately; but through the means of a balloon he can certainly rise into the air, and move about with a certain degree of freedom and purpose. Moreover, shall we, because our age cannot do what it has not yet discovered the means to do, assert that man cannot do it ? I will not suppose that an age like ours considers itself mankind !) The assertion of common consciousness 'is, therefore, that in the execution of our ends we are tied to a certain order of means. What does this assertion signify, when looked upon from a transcendental point of view, merely looking to the imminent changes and appearances in the Ego, and utterly abstracting from external things ? According to previous explanations, a feeling always accompanies perception, and to say : I perceive changes outside of me, signifies the same as : the condition of my feelings changes. I will to have external causality, THE rRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 99 si<^nifics : I will that a determined feeling; within me should be replaced Ijy a determined otiier feeliii;,^ which I require in my conception of the end to he attained. I have become cause, signifies: this required feeling has actually entered me. Hence to say: I attain my end through a series of means, signifies : between the feeling, from which I proceeded to willing, and the feeling required by that willing, a series of other feeliiigs enters. And to say that this relation is a necessary one, signifies : a determined required feeling follows a determined other feeling, only on the condition that a determined series of other feelings (determined in their kind, number, and sequence) enters' between them. But each feeling is expressive of my limitation, and to say, I have causality, signifies always : I expand my limits. Hence the assertion of common consciousness, trans- ccndentally expressed, signifies: that this expanding of our limits can only proceed in a certain manner of pro- gression, our causality being limited, in the attainment of its end, to the use of certain means. It is this deter- mination and limitation of our causality, whereof we have to treat at present, as our deduction will clearly show. This part of the deduction is a progress in our series of conditions. I cannot posit myself as free without ascribing to myself an actual causality. Such was our last proven proposition. But under what conditions can we again ascribe causality to ourselves ? This is the problem of our present investigation. Proof. A. My causality is perceived as a manifold in a con- tinuous series. The perception of my causality, as has already been remarked, necessarily, as perception, occupies a time moment. But through the union of many moments, there arises a duration or filling up of time, and hence, each separate moment must also fill up a time, since, by the loo THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. union ot many ot tlic same Uin.l, nolhin- can ar.sc, wind, is not in tl,o n>any a, separate». What then, does tin. si(,nnfy; eaeh moment füh up a tin,e ? Snup ly, tha this mon.ent a manifold mußt be .l.slmK.usl.e. , and Hut this distinction might he continued i.din.lely ; hut, on no account, that this distinction is actually nrndc, smce, on r contrary, it becon,es „ n.on,ent only th-^ ' - distinguishing, not separating ,t '''^ ' "''''''^'■v j ° ^ J^T the mmnent is posited as filU.,g «p tune, s.gn.ncs, the. fo c^ the same as: the possibility in general of n.aking the distinction just described is posited. ,„,,iit,. That which occurs in the perception of our oausalit) is the synthesis of our activity with a ^■.^-^;»;;;;^- ?f^ our activity, as wo have seen, is not a manifold, but rather rbsolute pire identity, and is itself to be cb-ctenzed only through relation to the resistance. Hence, the manifold which is to be distinguished, must be a manifold ot the resistance. f„j „v This manifold is necessarily a manifold sepaiatel ex- ternally, or a discrete manifold, for only on tins condition does it fill up a time; it is thought as a series. How then, is it in regard to the se,uence of tins man.Md in a series; docs this sequence depend upon the fiee- dom of the intelligence as such, or is it regarded as detemined independently of the /"t-^Hf ™'=- , J"^ . instonce assuming this manifold to be « & c, would it b" Tp^oper mat'ter, for the freedom of thinking, o chan'.e it for h c a ov ior c ah, etc., or was it necessary to putfii that particular sequence, h following a, and c tol- owin- 6-and i only possible on the condition o a havrng bell deposited, etc.? It is clear that the latter i the case tor he perceived causality of the Ego is someth g actll- but in the representation of the actual, the , Sence is altogether necessitated, and never üee so far as the context of the representation is concerned. Meed, looking at the matter in general, my causality Jessarily bapp'ens in time, since it cannot be m/. THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. .loi causality unless it is thought, and since all my thinking occurs in time. But time is a {Ictermined .series of successive moments, wherein each moment is conditioned by another one which it docs not condition, and conditions another one, by which it again is not conditioned. Tlie thinking of our causality, however, is the perception of an actual ; and in perception nothing depends upon the thinking as such. Hence my causality is represented as a series, the manifold whereof is the manifold of a resis- tance, the sequence of which is not determined through my thinking, but independently of it. B. The sequence of this manifold is determined inde- pendently of me ; and hence, is itself a limitation of my causality. We have just seen that the sequence of the manifold in my causality is not determined through my thinking ; but neither is it determined or produced through my activity, as is, indeed, immediately clear. The resistance is not my acting, but the opposite of my acting. I do not produce it, and, hence, I do not produce the least of what Ijelongs to it. That which I produce is my activity, and in it there is neither manifold n(jr sequence of time, but pure unity. I desire the end, and nothing but the end ; and the means I only desire because the end cannot be attained except through them. This whole relation itself is, therefore, a limitation of my activity. PiEMARKS. Let us explain more clearly the result of our present investigation. I. The idea of the deduced series is as follows : There must first be a point of beginning, wherein the Ego pro- ceeds out from its original limitedness, and has for the first time, and immediately, causality, which point of beginning, if it shoiüd be impossible, from some reason or another, to trace our analysis back so far, might also I02 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. appear as a plurality of points of beginning.* In so far as these points arc to he points of beginning, tlie Ego is in them cause imnicfliately through its will ; and there are no mediating links necessary in order to attain this causality. Such first points there must be, if the Ego is ever to become cause. These poiiits, thought together, we call, as will appear soon, our articulated body ; and this body is nothing but these points represented and realised through contemplation. Let us call this system, of the first moments of our causality the system A, With each of these pohits many other points connect, wherein the Ego can become cause in a manifold manner through means of the first series. I say : With each one many connect; for if from each one only one manner of acting were possible, that acting would not be free, and it would indeed be not a second act, but merely a construction of the first. Let us call this system the system B. With each moment of this system B are again connected inany points of a third system C, and thus — to put it in the shape of an illustration, an infinite circular space is described around a fixed central point, in which space each point can be thought as connecting with an infinite number of others. Through this necessary view of our causality the world generally, and the world as a manifold, arises for us. All the qualities of matter — excepting those, of course, which originate from the forms of contemplation — are nothing but their relation to us, and more especially their relation to our causality, since no other relation exists for us ; or to express this thought transcendentally : they are the relations of our determined fiuity to our desired infinity. The object X is in space ihiLs far removed from me, signifies idealiter: in proceeding from myself to the object in space, I must first seize and posit these and .these * Translator's Note. Or as a plurality of first men. THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 103 ol)jocts in order to posit it ; and viewed rcalilcr, it signifies : I must first penetrate this and that amount of opposing .space in order to be al>lc to consider the space X, as identical with the space wherein I am myself. The object Y is hard, signifies: In a certain scries of my activity I feel between two determined links of it a determined resistance. The olyect is softening, signifies : I feel the resistance diminished in the same place of the same series. It is thus in regard to all the predicates of things in the sensuous world. 2. The real active and feeling Ego describes in acting a continuous line, wherein there is no disruption or any- thing of the kind ; a line, wherein you proceed imper- ceptibly to the opposite, witliout a change appearing to occur in the next adjoining point, Init only at some points' distance. The reflecting Ego seizes any number of fact.s of this continuous line as separate moments. Thus there arises for the reflecting Ego a series, consisting of points, not immediately connected, (Eeflection proceeds by leaps, as it were, whereas sensation is steady or continuous.) It is true, both the extreme end-points of the successive moments (if such things could be in an infinitely divis- ible line, although we may well think them) imper- ceptibly join each other, and in so far that which is contained in both the separated moments is the same. But the reflection only seizes that wherein they are opposed, and thus they are distinct moments, and give rise to a changing consciousness ; the identity of con- sciousness being again made possible through their likewise remaining always the same. 3. This restriction of our causality to the use of certain determined means, in order to attain a determined object, must be explained from the point of view of common consciousness, through a determined qualitativeness of the things, or through determined laws of nature. This explanation, however, cannot suffice on the standpoint of transcendental philosophy, or on that standpoint which I04 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. sqiaratcs all tlic iion-]<>;!;o from tlic Ego, and Uiinks iLc Ego in its purity. From tliis staiulpoiiil it appears utterly absurd to assume a iiou-Ego as a thing in itself with abstraction from all reason. How, tlien, is that limitation to be explained in tliis connection, not in regard to its form, (i.e. not why siuli a limitation in general is to be posited, for this is pre- cisely the question we have answered in our deduction) ; but in regarcl to its content, i.e., why tliis limitation should be thought precisely in the particular manner in which it' is thought. In other words, wliy should pre- cisely these and no other means lead to the attaiiniienL of this or that determined end ? Xow, since we are here not to assume things in themselves, nor natural laws as the laws of an external nature, this limitation can only be conceived as of this character: The Ego limits itself, not arbitrarily, however, and with freedom, since in tliat case we could not say, the Ego is limited ; but in virtue of an immanent law of its own being, though a natural law of its own (finite) nature. This deterndned rational being is arranged in a manner that it must limit itself precisely thus; and this arrangement cannot be ex- plained any further precisely because it is to constitute the original limitation of that rational being, beyond which it cannot proceed with its activity, and hence likewise not with its cognition. To demand such an explanation would be to contradict one's self. There are, however, other limitations of the rational being, whereof the grounds can be shown up. Now, if these separate limitations, which as such occur only in time, are gathered together and thought as an original arrangement, prior to all time and hcyond oil time, then we think absolute limits to the primary impulse itself. It is an impulse which can only be directed upon this, only upon a causality determined in such or such a series, and upon no other causality whatever ; and it is such an impulse absolutely. Our whole internal, as well THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 105 as external, world, in so far as the former is aclnal world, is thus prc-cstahlishcd for us tlirougliout all eternity. I say, in so far as the internal world is actual, i.e., an ohjective something in us. For the merely suhjectivc, the self-determination, is not pre-established, and hence we act with freedom. CHAPTER V. DEDUCTION OF A DETERMINEDNESS OF OBJECTS INDEPENDENTLY OF US. Fifth Proposition. — The rational Icivg cannot ascribe a causality to itself without p'csupposing a certain causality of the object. Preliminary. It has been shown ah-eady (Chapter I.) that the thinking of our freedom is conditioned by the tliinking of an object. But this objectivity was in that chapter deduced only as mere raw matter. Common experience, however, teaches that we never find an oliject which is only matter, and which is not already formed in a certain respect. It appears, therefore, that the consciousness of our causality is conditioned not merely by the general posit- ing of an object, but also by the positing of a determined form of the objects. But is this common experience, to which we have referred, necessary and universal, and, if so, according to what laws of reason is it thus necessary and universal ? The solution of this question miglit have some influence upon the system. The general proposition, that all matter is necessarily perceived in a determined form, might be proven easily enough. But we do not care for this alone, but more particularly for an insight into the determined form, which we must assign to the objects of our causality in advance of our causality ; and to show up this may require a much profounder investigation. Even the xo6 THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 107 words of the proposition cstaMished cannot yet be ex- plained by us, therefore, and we must wait for a complete unravelling of their meaning until we have finished our investigation. Proof. Thesis. — The rational being has no cognition except as ■ a consequence of a limitation of its activity. This proposition has been aljundantly proven by all we have previously said, and it is simply the result of our previous investigations. I find myself only as free, and I find myself as free only in the actual perception of a determined self-activity. I find the object only as limiting, and yet as overcome by my self-activity. Without con- sciousness of a self-activity there is indeed no conscious- ness at all, but this self-activity can itself not be the object of a consciousness unless it is limited. Antithesis. — But the rational being as such has no self-activity, except as a consequence of a cognition, at least a cognition of something in that being itself. That something is product of my self-activity, I do not and cannot perceive, but absolutely posit; and I do posit it thus absolutely in positing the form of freedom in general. But this foim of freedom consists in this, tliat the material determinedness of the will is grounded upon a conception of an end, which conception is freely pro- duced by the intelligence. Now, apart from the fact that the possibility of such fi conception of an end seems itself to be conditioned by the cognition of an external object, and of a form thereof existing independently of us, apart from this fact of mere common consciousness, of which we do not know yet whether it will be con- firmed, it is at least certain that we presuppose the cognition of such a conception of an end for the possi- bility of a perception of my willing. But only in so far as I perceive myself as free, willing is a causality, my causality. io8 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. Tlio condition, as we sec, is not possible without tlie conditioned, and the conditioned not possible without the condition, which doubtless is a defective circle of ex- planation and a proof that we have not yet exjdained the consciousness of our freedom, which we were to explain. (It were perhaps an easy matter to solve this difllculty by the presumption that the first moment of all con- sciousness—for only the first moment presents the difll- culty, since in the progress of consciousness the choice through freedom and a cognition of the end-conception in advance of the will-resolve, l)y means of previous experience, can easily be conceived— consists in an abso- lute synthesis of the production of the end-conception and of the perception of a willing of this end. That conception would thus be, not produced, but merehj thought, as produced immediately together in and witii the willing, for the sake of finding the willing itself to be free. The only question would be this: Whence, then, since no choice is to precede the willing, does the determinedness of the end or of the willing (which is here all the same) come from, and how can it be explained by the philosopher ? (For we have seen that the Ego itself explains it through the thought of a pre- viously produced end-conception.) And this is, indeed, the true solution of the difficulty, which, once obtained, will also solve the last-mentioned rpiestion. But rules of a systematic procedure, as well as other discoveries, which we apprehend, force us to seek a more thorough basis, and the present remarks are only intended to point out the direction of our investigation. Synthesis. — According to the well-known rules of our synthetical method, the above antithesis is to be solved through a synthesis of the conditioned and the condition, both being posited as one and the same. The activity is, therefore, to be itself the desired cognition, and the cognition itself the desired activity; and all conscious- THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. loc, ncss must start from soiiictlHug, which alisohitoly unites in itself both precHcatcs. Let this union be thouglit, and the contradiction is actually solved. But this is the very dilliculty. It is so hard to under- stand this thought, to thiidv anything clearly when thinking it. According to the rules of synthetical elaboration, our task would, therefore, now bo to immediately analyse the established synthetical conception until we should have succeeded in understanding it: the most diificult way of it, particularly as our cstal)lished synthesis is one of the most abstract occurring in the whole science of philosophy. There is an easier method; and, since we are at present concerned more about the results themselves than al)Out getting a knowledge of the original synthetical procedure of reason (which, moreover, has been amply exemplified in other instances, more specially in my Science of Ilighis), we shall pursue this easier method. For we know already, from previous investigations in regard to that primary point, from which all consciousness proceeds, so much that we can very properly proceed in our investigations from these known characteristics, and ascertain whether they will also solve our present ditticulty, and whether they also involve the synthesis just now established. This method is the same as the other reversed. The Pkoof by another Method. If we think the Ego originally objective — as it is found in advance of all other consciousness — its determinedness cannot be otherwise described than by means of a tendency or impulse, as we have sufficiently established at the very beginning. The ol)jective state of an Ego is by no means a being or permanency (for in that case it would be its opposite, a thing) ; but is, on the contrary, absolute activity, and nothing but activity. Now, activity, taken objectively, is Impulse. no THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. I have said: if we tliiiik tlic Ego originally ol)jcctivc, for, after the s^ll)jcctive in the E^^o has l)ecn scpai-atcd and thought (according to our previous de.scri])tion in Chapter IT., Book 1) as absolute power of freedom, the olijcctive in the Ego, in this relation to the subjective or to freedom, is a moral law for freedom. But the Ego is not merely objective, for in that case it would be a thing and not an Ego. Hence, its original determinedness is not only the determincdness of a being, but also of a thinking: taking the latter word in its widest significance as embracing all utterances of the intelligence. But such a mere determincdness of the in- telligence, without any self-activity or freedom on the part of the intelligence, is called a feeling (as we have shown in Chapter III. of Book 1). A thing merely is something or another, and that finishes the determinedness of the thing. But the Ego never is merely something or another ; it must also know of that which it is. The being of the Ego necessarily and immediately relates to its consciousness. This mere determination of the being and the Egoness is called feeling; and, hence, if the Ego is oiiginally posited as being an impulse, i.e., if the original objective determined- ness of the Ego is characterised as impulse, then it is also necessarily posited as knowing of this its being, or of this impulse ; and since this immediate knowing in the Ego, as its subjective determinedness, is called feeling, it is necessarily posited as having a feeling of this impulse. And in this manner we arrive at a necessary and immediate consciousness, to which we can attach the series of all other consciousness. In other words, all other consciousness : reflection, contemplation, -compre- hension, etc., presupposes an application of freedom, which again presupposes many other things. But feeling does not presuppose anything. I fed only so far as I am. This feeling of the impulse is called yearning: an un- determined sensation of a need. THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. iii Now, this original feeling of the impulse is precisely the synthetical link, wliich we (lescril)e(l above. The impulse is an activity, which in the Ego necessarily l)eco]iies cognition (feeling), and tliis cognition is not (like otlier cognition) an image of the activity of the impulse, but, rather, is that very activity itself in its immediate repre- sentation. If the activity is posited, the cognition thereof is also immediately posited, and if this cognition is posited in its form as feeling, the activity itself is also posited. In other cognitions the oltjective is always still held to e.xist, in a certain rcs[)ect, independent of its cognition or representation, whether it be so held a tiling in itself, or as law of reason; for only by holding it thus does it become an objective, and distinct from tlie subjective. In feeling, both are absolutely united ; a feeling (noun) is clearly nothing without feeling (inf. verb), and is tliat feeling itself, is always merely a subjective. : This original feeling solves the above difficulty thoroughly. We could not assume an activity without cognition, since all activity was found to presuppose a freely-produced conception of an end. Again, we could not assume any cognition without presupposing an activity, since all cognition was deduced from the perception of our limitedness in acting. But at present we have something, which is immediately knowaijle, namely, our original impulse. The first act is a satisfaction of that impulse, and in relation to it, that impulse appeal's as a freely- produced conception of an end ; and this is very correct, since the Ego is to be regarded as the absolute ground of its impulse. In feeling I am utterly, and in every respect, en- chained. I have not even that freedom which occurs in every representation, namely, that I can abstract from the object of it. It is not I, who posit myself when I feel, but both objectively — as impelled; and subjectively — as feeling this impulsion— am I posited. ' • 112 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. Now, if only the cousciou.sly free and active is posited as Ego, as is always "done on the standpoint of connnon consciousness, tlien the object and sul)ject of tJic impulse does not belong, in so far, to the Ego, but is rather opposed to it; and it is only my thinking and acting which constitutes my Ego. The ground of distinction of these my predicates in the described relation is as follows : I, in so far as I am free, am not the ground of my impulse and of the feeling exerted by the impulse. It is not a matter of my freedom how I feel or do not feel, whereas it is utterly a matter of my freedom how I think or act. The former is not product of freedom, and freedom has not the least control over it ; the latter, however, is merely and purely product of freedom, and is not at all without freedom. Tlie im- pulse and feeling, moreover, are to have no causality upon freedom. In spite of the impulse, I can determine myself contrary to it; or, if I do determine myself in accordance with it, it is still not the hnpulse which deter- mines me, but I myself who determine myself. The ground of relation of these predicates is as follows : Although a part of that which pertains to my Ego is to be possible only through freedom, and another part of the same Ego is to be independent of freedom and freedom independent of it, yet the Ego, to which both parts pertain, is only one and the same, and is posited as one and the same. I, who feel, and I who think ; I, who am impelled, and I, who freely resolve, am the same I. Now, although my first act, as has just been shown, can be none other than a satisfying of the impulse, and although the end-conception for that act is given through the impulse, that act is nevertheless as having such an end-conception determined otherwise than as mere im- pulse. Eor as mere impulse the act would be viewed as necessarily constituted in this or that manner, whereas with the characteristic of being directed upon an end it is viewed as an act, which might have been otJierwise than TUE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 113 it is. To be sure, I follow the impulse; but with the thought that I also luiglit not have followed it. It is only thus that the manifestation of my power becomes an acting; it is only on this condition that self-consciousness, and consciousness in general, is possible. We have already distinguished this objective view of the Ego, in so far as a determined impulse is originally posited, and a feeling deduced from it, from another objective view of the same Ego, which ajipears as moral law. This distinction can be made clearer at present. Materialitcr. — Both are distinct in this, that whereas the moral law cannot be derived at all from an objective determinedness of the im]>ulsc, but simply from the form of the impulse in general, as the impulse of an Ego, or from the form of absolute independence and self- determination, the feeling' of the impulse presupposes, on the contrary, a determined material need. Formaliter. — l>otli are distinct in this, that whereas the moral law does not al )Solutely force itself upon us, is not felt and does not at all exist independently of free reflec- tion, arising rather from a reflection of freedom, and from the relation of the aliove-described form of all impulse to freedom, the feeling of the material impulse, on the con- trary, forces itself upon us. , Finally, so far as the relation is concerned, the just- described impulse docs not at all relate to freedom, whereas the moral law does relate itself to freedom, since it is a law for freedom. In what we have saitl above, we have established the conception of an original, determined system of our limitedness in general ; the utterance or manifestation of this limitedness, and of the limited in us, being pre- cisely feeling and impulse; and hence there exists an originally determined system of impulses and feelings. And since whatsoever is fixed and determined indepen- dently of freedom is called nature, according to the above, tl^at system of impulses and feelings is to be thought as I 114 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS, nature. Moreover, since tlie consciouMiess llicrijoi lorces itself upon us, and since the Y/^o or substance, Wi.orcin this system rests, is to be the same, wliich tliink.s or wills witli freedom, and which we jxtsit as ourselves; it lollov..^ that we must think that system of iuipulses and fcolin-.s as our nature. In other words: I myself am to a certain extent, r;:i(i without an infringement upoj) the absolut« micss of niy reason and of my freedom — nature; and this niy naLur.^ is an iw pulse, III. But not only do I posit myself as nature, T alvo assume; other nature outside of my own, partly in so iar a.- I am compelled to relate my causality in general to au exitT^ul and independently existing matter, and partly in so far as this matter must have, also independently of mv activity, at least that form which forces me to ])a..- through determined links in order to attain my o'oject. Kow, in so far as both are to be nature, they are neces- sarily thought as equal ; but in so far as the one is to bü 7)iy nature, and the other an external nature, they are necessarily opposited. Both, therefore, are thoi;;j;lit as mediated, i.e., the one is thought through the liiinking of the other, which is indeed the general relation of all opposites, which are equal in one characteristic. In other words, my nature must be originally explained, or derived from the whole system of nature and shown to have its ground therein. Concerning this assertion, well known from and sufiiciently explained in my other philosophical works, let me say a few words. AVe speak of an explanation and deduction, which the Ego itself produces on the standpoint of common consciousness, but not of the explanation of the transcendental philosopher. The latter explains all the occurrences of consciousness from the ideal acting of reason as such, while the posit objects outside of what is to be explained, in order to explain it. THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 115 Again: The Ego never becomes conscious of its explain- ing, as such, but only of the products tlieroof; or, in other words, it is clear that perception starts from the nature in nie, and not from the nature outside of rne, which latter external nature is the mediated (my own being the mediating), or that which is mediately cognized by means of the cognition of my own nature. Wiiereas the standpoint of reality proceeds reversely from external nature, which is held to determine our nature and to contain the ground, why our nature is constituted thus and not otherwise. How, then, is oiir nature to be ex- plained ? Or, what else does the assumption of a nature in us involve ? Or, under what condition is it possilde to ascrilie a nature to us ? This investigation we have now to undertake. My nature is an impulse. How can an impulse as such be comprehended, i.e., how is the thinking of the impulse mediated, in beings thinking altogether discur- sively and through mediation ? We can make very clear what we speak of here, by the opposite mode of thinking. Whatsoever lies within a series of causes and effects is easily comprehended by the laws of natural mechanism. Each link in the series has its activity communicated through it by another link- external to it, and directs this its activity to a tliird external link. In such a series, a quantum of power is only passed over from link to link, and passes, as it were, through the whole series. Whence this power may come we never learn, being forced, at each link in the series, to proceed further upwards, and never arriving at an original source. This power, penetrating the series, is the power by means whereof we think the activity and passivity of each separate link in the series. But in such a manner we cannot comprehend the impulse as working, and hence, we cannot think it all as a link in such a series. Let us assume an external cause directed upon the substrate of the impulse, then there ii6 TfrE SCIENCE OF ET/ /I CS. also results nii external causality upon a third link; but if this external cause has no influence over tin; substrati- of the mipulso, there results nothing at all. Hence, the impulse is something, which neither comes from, nor goes into, the external world; it is an internal activity of the substrate directed upon itself. Self-determination is the only conception by means of which we can think an impulse. Hence, my nature, in so far as it is to consist in an impulse, is thought as determining itself through itself; for only then can an impulse be conceived. But that an impulse exists at all, is simply fact of consciousness on the standpoint of ordinary consciousness, beyond which fact that standpcjint does not transcend. It is only the transcendental philosopher who goes beyond it in order to look up the ground of this fact. COROLLARIÜM. In the first mode of proceeding, our judgment is what Kant calls subsuming, and in the latter mode, what lie calls reflecting. The distinction is this: The law of natural mechanism is nothing but the law of the successions of reflections, and of their reciprocal determination (through. which alone time, and identity of consciousness in the progress of time, arises for us), transferred to external objects. The understanding, in this sort of thinkings proceeds its ordinary way mechanically ; and our free power of judgment has only to reflect upon what it actually does as mechanical understanding, in order to become conscious of it. The matter is comprehended without any activity of freedom or consideration : it is comprehended through the mere mechanism of the power of cognition ; and this procedure is justly called subsuming. But in the second mode of proceeding the comprehend- ing cannot at all occur in this mechanical manner ; and hence, there arises a check and doubt in our minds» THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 117 accompanied by the reflection, that tlie crmiprchcnsion cannot succeed thus. Now, tlie coinprchension cannot be thus achieved, and yet must l»u achieved — must be embodied in the unity of self-consciousness, signifies : the mode of thinking must be reversed (precisely as the proposition : the ground of something is not to l»e found in the Ego, and yet there must be a ground ; signifies : that ground is in the non-Ego). This function of the reflective power of judgment arises only, however, where subsumption is not possible; and reflective judgment prescribes itself its own laiv, namely, the law to reverse the law of subsumption. IV. Nature — at present as yet only mj/ nature, but which, in its essence, is nature — determines itself. But nature, as such, is characterised through opposition to freedom ; or through this : that, whereas all being of freedom is to proceed from a thinking, all being of nature is, on the contrary, to proceed itself from an absolute Ijeing. Hence, nature, as such, cannot determine itself like a free-being, through a conceptioii. Nature determines itself signifies tiierefore : nature is determined to determine itself through its essence; is determined /o?'?nfl/ieinc? is to be tlionglit, then this conropjion is valid in all ita strictness, without the least niodilieation — not as coji- ception of an impulse, but as c()no(;])tion of absolute freedom. Freedom is directly opposikd to natural mechan- ism, and is in no manner determined thereby. ]]ut when we speak of an impulse of nature, then the general character of nature, namely, as a mechanism, must l^e retained, together with the character of an impulse, and l)oth characters, therefore, synthetically joined together: by which means we shall receive a mediating link ijetween nature as mere mechanism (or the causality-r(;lation) ; and freedom as the opposite of mechanism (or the sub- stantiality-relation), which third link we, indeed, very nuich need to explain the causality of freedom in nature. The conception of this synthesis is clearly the conception just developed by us. Something = A, is, indeed, througli itself what it is, l)ut that it is precisely this through itself has its ground in the other {i.e., in all possible - A). Again, that the other is precisely this, and that A is precisely thus determined, has its ground in A itself, since - A on its part becomes through A what it is. Thus, necessity and independence are united, and we have no longer the simple thread of causality, but the closed sphere of reciprocal activity. V. I must posit wiy nature as a closed whole, to which there appertains precisely so much and no more: such is the result of our proof. The conception of this totality cannot be explained upon the standpoint of common consciousness, upon which we have placed the Ego in our whole latter investigation, from any reflection of tliat consciousness, as the transcendental philosopher, indeed, does explain it ; but the conception is simply given. My nature is determined and fixed in this manner, and this .totality itself is nature. THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. i2r Let lis ask first: How do I coinprclieiid at all, and accordiiii; to wliat law do I think sonictliiii^ in nalnrc as a real or^fanic whole, since this soniL'tliin;^ is itself oidy a part of nature in general ? This questi<»n is asked very properly, for, as yet, we have only deduced the totality of nature as a real whole, hut not any part tliereof ; and yet it is a fact that we think at least our own natuie, which, after all, is only a part of the. whole of nature, as a complete whole. I have said : A rml whole, and this determination is the chief point. Let me first explain this conception by its opposite. In the manner in which we regarded nature just now, it was completely a matter of tiie free- dom of reflection, to grasp each part as a whole, and again to separate this part into ever so many parts, etc., I had a totality, but simply because I had made it a totality, and there was no other ground of determination for its limits than the freedom of my thinking. I had an ideal totality, a collective unity, but l)y no means a real totality. I had an aggregate, and not a compositum. If my whole is to be a real totality, then its parts must unite in a whole of themselves and independently of uiy thinking. Reality is determined through a compulsion of reflec- tion, whereas reflection is free in the representation of the ideal. This freedom, to limit the totality arbitrarily, must therefore be cancelled, and the intelligence be com- pelled to gather precisely so much and no more within it, if it is to become a real totality. Such is the case, as we have seen, with reference to the representation of my nature as a fixed whole. Now, through what law of thinking may this necessity of a determination of the limits arise for us ? Wherever .we can no longer comprehend through mere subsuuip- tion, there the law of reflective judgment enters, and the latter is a mere reversion of the former. Now, it miglit well happen that our power of judgment, once safely 122 , THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. arrived witliin the siilicre of reneclioii, can no loiK'er coiiipreliend even by means of the law wliicli anj.se from a reversion of tlie law of Kul)siiinptii)ii ; and }i(;)ife it would have again to reverse that law. I'lius liicrc; wr.ald arise a composite law of rellection, a rccijn'ocuiity of reflection with itself. (We are to comjjrcliend somcthincr. We cannot comprehend it by the law of sub.suniptioii, and hence we reverse that law, and olilain the law r,f reflection; now we are again to comprehend .soinelliiiig else, and if we cannot even comprehend l^y this new law of reflection, hence we have to reverse it agaiii.) Each part of nature is through itself, and in itself, wiiat it is. So says the simple conception of reflection. liut accord- ing to the conception, which arose by reversing Mie simple conception of reflection, no part of nature is througli and for itself what it is, Imt only the totality is tiirough and for itself. Hence each part of the totality is determined through all other parts of the same totality, and each complete totality is itself to be regarded as we regarded the whole universe, which latter, therefore, changes from a totality of parts, into a totality of totalities,* a system of real totalities. Let us now analyze these conceptions still further, and thus connect our present argument with what we liave previously said. According to our previous result, each had its measure of reality, and for all other reality an impulse. Impulse and reality were in reciprocal causality, and mutually exhausted each other. In none was there an impulse to have a reality, which it possessed, nor a lack, which it had not an impulse to replace. This mode of consideration we were able to continue or stop at pleasure ; it fitted whatsoever came to our notice, and everything was perfectly uniform. But at present a determined = X is asseiied to be given, "which cannot be comprehended by this sort of conception. How, then, must it be constituted ? Let ua consider any * Leibnitz'8 Moiufds. — Tk. THE PRINCIPLE OF MORAUTY. 123 particular part of X, and call it A. Tf in A impulse and reality could not l)c, reciprocally explained each fioni llic other, if the impulse did not impel to have a realiiy which A lacked, and which helonged to A, or if llie impulse did impel to have reality which A lacked not, and which did not l)elong to A; then A could not be explained and comprehended through itself. My comprehending would be shut off; I should not havi- comprehended anything, and it would 1)e evident iliat I ought not to have arbitrarily separated the part A from X. Now let us consider the remainder of X = B. If ?>, considered in and for itself, were to result just as A did, so far as the relation of impulse and reality are concerned ; but if it were likewise to appear that the impulse in 1j impels to have the reality which A lacks, whereas, on tliC other hand, the impulse iu A impels to have the reality lacking in B : then my consideration of B would lead lae back to A, in order to ascertain whether A really lacks that reality for which I discovered impulse in B, anf conscioiiS7iess ? The product of the reciprocal causality of my nature is the impulse. Now this reciprocal causality is not my causality as intelligence; I do not become immediately conscious of it at all. The impulse itself is likewise not my product, it is given and does not depend upon my freedom. But the impulse enters con- sciousness, and all it effects in this region depends upon THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 131 inc, or rather, the impulse li.as no effect iii tlii.s region at all, it being I who do or do not cflect Bomething in it hy virtue of tliat impulse. Here, then, lies the tiansition to self-determination on the part of the rational l)eing; here lies the determined and sharpdrawn limit between necessity and freedom. The satisfaction of the impulse in plant or animnl occurs necessarily wherever its conditions arise. Lut man is not at all impelled by his natural impulse. Our digestion, the change of our food into nourishment, or the circulation of our blood, &c., are not matters under our .-control, they are the processes of nature in us, above alluded to. They are not under our control, as intelli- gence, because we do not immediately become conscious of them ; for that which physiologists or doctors know of them they know mediately. But the satisfying of our hunger or thirst is under our control, since we have immediate consciousness of our desire for food and drink. Or, is there anyone willing to assert that he eats and drinks with the same mechanical necessity wherewith he digests. In short, it is not within my control to feel or not feel an impulse within me, but it is within my control to satisfy it or not. IV. I reflect on my yearning, and thus raise to clear con- sciousness what at first was only a dark feeling. But I cannot reflect on it without determining it as a yearning, in consequence "of the universally valid law of reflection ; or, in other words, without distinguishing it from another possible yearning. But one yearning can be distinguished from another only through its object. Hence through this second reflection I also become conscious of the object of my yearning; concerning the reality or non- reality whereof we do not as yet trouble ourselves. We merely posit it here as an object yearned for. But a yearning determined through its object is called desire. 132 THE SCIENCE OF ETI/ICS. The manifold of desire united into one conception, and considered as a faculty grounded in the Ego, is called fnculty of desire. If we should in the course of our investigation meet with another desire — the manifold whereof we could also unite into a faculty — it would ho proper to call the present faculty, as Kant has indeed called it, the lower desire. The form of this desire as such, i.e., that it is an impulse accompanied by consciousness, has its ground in the free act of reflection. But that an impulse exists at all, and that this impulse or this desire is directed precisely upon such an o]»ject, has its ground in nature; not however in external nature, \\\ the nature of ohjects, Init in my own nature, and hence it is an inimanenb ground. Thus even in desire does freedom already manifest itself, since a free reflection enters between yearning and desiring. Hence it is well possible to suppress inordinate desires, by not reflecting upon, by ignoring them, or by busying oneself, particularly with mental labour ; in short, by not "giving way to them," as the theological moralists very properly express themselves. V. My desire has for its object things of nature, either with a view to immediately unite them with me (like food and drink) or, to place them into a certain relation to me (like free air, fine prospect, clear weather), etc. • Now things of nature exist firstly in space for me, which we presuppose as well known from the science of knowledge; and hence that wherewith they are to bo imitcd, or to which they are to be placed in a certain relation, must also exist in space ; since there is no uniting of that which has space, and no relating of it except to that which also is in space ; for otherwise it would either not remain in space, which is absurd, or it would not be a relation, which ia against the presupposition. Xow THE PRINCIPLE OE MORALITY. 133 that wliich is in si)ody, whereas tlie articulation, as such, as tool of our frccdovi, is not truly product of nature, l»ut rather of practice through freedom ; and the bad results, which the organi- zation may be threatened with, we do not take into account, since the future is never immediately felt, Man is herein a mere plant. When the plant grows it would feel well, could it rcllect. But the plant miglit also over-, grow, and thus hasten on its destruction, and yet not l>e disturbed in its feeling of satisfaction. Now, it is within our power of freedom to either follow this impulse of mere enjoyment or not. Each satisfying of an impulse, if consciously undertaken, is necessarily done through freedom, and our body is so arranged that we can work through it with freedom. In so far as man has mere enjoyment for his oltject, he is dependent upon something given, namely, upon the existence of the object of his impulse ; hence, he is not self-sufficient, and the attainment of his purpose depends also in part upon nature. But, in so far as man but reflects and thus becomes subject of consciqusness — we have shown above, that he necessarily reflects on the impulse, — he becomes Ego, and hence, the tendency of reason to absolutely determine itself through itself as subject of con- sciousness, will manifest itself in him. One important question. My impulse as a being of nature, and my tendency as pure spirit: are they two different im.pulses ? By no means. Erom the transcen- dental point of view, both are one and the same original impulse, which constitutes my being, only regarded from two different sides. For I am subject-object, and in the identity and inseparability of both consists my true being. If I regard myself as object, completely determined through the laws of sensuous perception and discursive thinking, then that, which is in part my only impulse, becomes my 130 : THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. natural impulse, l)Gcause I myself am nature from this point of view. But if I regard myself as sm^/cc^, then that impulse becomes for me a purely si)iritual impulse, or a law of my self-determination. All the phenomena of tlie Ego are based simply upon the reciprocity of tliese two impulses, which two impulses are, in fact, only the reci- procal relation of one and the same impulse to itself: its self-relation. This explains,, at the same time, how two such utter opposites as tlie two impulses can occur in a Ijeing, whicli is to be absolutely one and the same. Both are, indeed, also one; but the wliole Egoness is based upon tlieir appearing as two opposites. The limit between ])oth is reflection. The reflecting, as that which contemplates in the re- flection, is higlier than the reflected, rises above and eml)races it; hence, the impulse of the reflecting, of tlio subject of consciousness, is properly called the higher impidse, and a faculty of desire, determined by it, is called the higher faculty of desire. Only the reflected is nature. The reflecting is opposed to it, and hence, is no nature, but raised al)ove all nature. The higher impulse, as the impulse of tlie purely spiritual, is directed upon absolute self-determination to an activity for the mere sake of the activity. Hence, it is opposed to all enjoyment which is a mere passive surrendering to nature. But both constitute only one and the same Ego ; hence, both impulses must be united within the sphere of con- sciousness. It will appear that in this union the higher ' impulse must abandon its ^pj^'zY?/, i.e., its non-determined- ness through an object; whilst the lower impulse must abandon its enjoyment, for the mere sake of enjoyment. Hence, as result, there will appear an ohj'cctive activity, the final end whereof is absolute freedom, absolute inde- pendence of nature. But this is an infinite, never ä,ttainable end; and hence, it can only be our problem THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 137 to state how we must act in order to appi'oach tliat final end. To take cognizance merely of the liiglier impulse would result in a mere mctaphysic of morals, which is formal and empty. Only through synthetically uniting it with the lower impulse do we attain a science of morals which is real. CHAPTER VIL CONCERNING FKEEDOM AND THE HIGHER IMPULSE. I. The final production of my nature, as such, is an impulse. / reflect on myself, i.e., on this my given nature, which, as immediate object of my reflection, is nothing but an im- pulse. Now, everything depends upon our completely determining this reflection. In order to do so, we must examine — 1st, its form; 2nd, its content; and 3rd, the connection of both. TJmt the reflection occurs, or its form, is an absolute fact ; it occurs because it does, or because I am I. So far as its content or object is concerned, we have alreaxly shown that this is our natural impulse, and the only ques- tion is, lioiu far our nature may be the immediate object of that reflection. This, also, we have already answered as follows: in so far as I am necessitated to assign somewhat to me as the reflecting. The connection of both is, that both are to be one and the same. T, the natural being (for another I does not exist for me), am at the same time for myself the reflecting. That natural being is the substance, and the reflection is an accidence of that substance; is an expression of the freedom of the natural being. Thus posits the reflection about to be described. Concerning the ground of this connection, common consciousness does not even ask. From the standpoint of common conscious- ness it would merely be said: "I 'happen to be such a being, with such a given nature, and the consciousness «3» THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 139 thereof; and tliat sulliccs"; leaving altogctlicr uncom- prehended, wliicli indeed tliat standpoint also docs not propose to comprehend, how such a harnK)ny lietween complete and mutually independent oj)2)Osite8 is at all possihle. That nature, on its part, determines and limits- something in tlic manner in wliicli my nature is deter- mined and limited, can be comprehended; and likewise, that the intelligence, on its part, forms a certain re]irc- sentation and determines it in a certain manner. IJut- how both, in tlieir independent actions, sliould liarmOnizc and arrive at the samt result, is utterly incom})rchensiljle, since neither the intelligence gives laws to nature, nor nature to the intelligence. The former assertion would,- indeed, be Idealism, and the latter Materialism ; whereas the system of fore-established harmony, as usually taken, takes cognizance of neither side, and leaves the question unanswered. From the standpoint of transcendental philosophy we have already solved this problem. There is no such thing as nature by itself; my nature and all other nature, posited to explain mine, is merely a peculiar manner of regarding myself. I am limited only in the world of intelligence, and through this limitation of my original impulse my reflection is most certainly limited to myself, and, vice versa, through my reflection of myself my original impulse is limited ; of course, for me, since we cannot speak of any other limitation of myself than for myself. On the standpoint of transcendentalism we have no independent twofold at all, but an absolute simple ; and where there is no difference it were absurd to speak of a harmony, or ask for its ground. But at present we occupy the standpoint of common consciousness, and follow its path. Through the described reflection the Ego tears itself loose from all, that is, to be outside of it, gets itself under its own control, and places itself before itself as absolutely self-sufflcient. For the reflecting is self-sufficient, and only dependent upon itself; I40 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. l)nfc the reflected is tlie same as tlie renectiii^'. Nf)t, as iiii<;lit Hceiii at tlio first fijlaiico, as if we merely iDeant to say that the Ego, from this ])oiiit inwards, simply observes itself; nay, we distinctly assert that from this point nothing can occur in the Ego without the active deter- mining of the intelligence, Reflecting and reflected are united, and represent one single undivided person. The reflected brings the actual power, and the reflecting brings consciousness, into the person. The person liereafter can do nothing except with consciousness and according to free conceptions. An actuality, which has its ground in a conception, is called a product of freedom. No actuality can, from tlie stated point, be ascribed to the Ego, except as a con- sequence of the Ego's own conception thereof. Hence the Ego is free from that point onwards, and all that the Ego henceforth does is product of this freedom. This is indeed the important point, and it is our present intention to clear up at once the theory of freedom. Each link in a series of nature is a pre- determiner, be it according to the law of mechanism or of organization. Hence if we know the nature of a thing, and the law which governs it, we can tell for all time to come how the thing will manifest itself. But that which occurs in the Ego, commencing at the point where it became an Ego, and providing the Ego truly remains Ego, is not predetermined, and is absolutely undeterminable. There is no law according to which free self-determinations occur or may be calculated in advance, since they are dependent upon the self-determination of the Intelligence, which, as such, is absolutely free and altogether pure activity. A series of nature is steady. Each link in it effects wholly whatsoever it can effect. But a series of freedom- determination consists of leaps and progresses utterly irregularly.. Think one link of such a series as determined, and call it A. From A many other links are possible. THE PRINCIPLE OE MORALITY. 141 liut not all possible links, only ono of theni^X results. Hence whilst in a scries of nature all links connect closely, in such a scries of freedom the connection l)ieaks off at every link. In a series of freedom-determinations no link can be explained, for each is a primary and a])sohite. In series of nature the law of causality is valid ; Imt in the freedom series the law of substantiality rules, i.e. each free resolve is itself substantial, is what it is absolutely through itself. Beyond the stated rcHection, natural necessity can no longer control me, for beyond it I am no longer a link of nature's chain. The last link of nature is an impulse, but only an impulse, having, therefore, no causality in a spiritual being ; and thus we can make freedom com- prehensible even from the standpoint of a philosophy of nature. The causality of nature has its limit; now if there is to be any causality beyond the limit, it must be that of another power. That which results from an impulse is not a result of nature, since nature exhausted herself in the production of the impulse. It is / who produce this result, true by means of a power which I get from nature, but which is no longer under her but under my control, since it is under the control of a principle utterly removed beyond the authority of nature, namely, of the Conception. We shall call free- dom in this respect, formal freedom. Whatsoever I do, simply being conscious in so doing, I do with formal freedom. Hence a man might always follow merely his natural impulse, and yet, if he only acted with consciousness, and not mechanically, we should have to ascribe freedom to him in the above significance of the word, for the last ground of his act would be his con- sciousness of the impulse, and not the natural impulse itself. (I am not aware that- any writer has as yet treated the conception of freedom in this respect, in which it is nevertheless the root of all freedom, with care and attention. Perhaps most of the errors and 142 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. <;oinp]aints respecting the incoinprehensiljility of our doctrine have their origin in tlii.s.) COROLLAUIUM. No opponent of the assertion of freedom can deny that he is conscious of states, for whicli he can assign no other ground than themselves. But tlie sharpwitted of these opponents say: "It does not follow from tliat fact that those states have no external ground at all, hut merely that we are not conscious of them." And they proceed: "It does not follow that because we are not conscious of those grounds, those states have no causes." Xow here they l)ecome at once transcendent. We are abso- lutely unable to posit causes, signifies for us, I trust: Such causes are not. They continue : " For everything has its cause, and hence those resolves, which we believe to be our own, have also their causes, although we are not conscious of these causes." Here they clearly pre- suppose what was to ])e proven, namely, that the Ego belongs to the series of nature and is subject to the laws of nature ; their proof is, therefore, an evident circle. Of course, the defender of freedom can on his part also only presuppose that Egoness, the conception whereof involves that it does not belong to nature. But he has the decided advantage over his opponents that he is aljle to actually build up a system of philosophy, which they cannot do ; and moreover, he has on his side a contem- plation whereof they know nothing. They are only discursive thinkers, and utterly lack intuition. One inust not enter into dispute with them, but one ought to cultivate them, if possible, IL According to the foregoing I am free, but do not posit myself as free; I am free, perhaps, for an intelligence outside of me, not for myself. But / am something only in so far as I posit myself as such. THE PRINXIPLE OF MORALITY. 143 ■ What appertains, let us ask firstly, to this positin«^ myself as free? I posit myself as free when 1 liecome conscious of my transition from undeterminedness to / such or sueh a manner, is accidental to the Effo. Regarded from the transcendental point of view, this impulse is the 148 THE SCIENCE OF ET/flCS. result of our limitation. Tnio, it is necessary that we are limited at all, aiiico otherwise consciousness would he impossible ; but it is accidental, that wc are limited in prccischj such or such a manner. The imrc impulse, on the contrary, is essential to tlic Ego, since it is grounded in the Egoness as such. Hence the impulse exists in all rational beings, and hence its results are valid for all rational beinss. Again, the pure impulse is a higher, superior impulse — an impulse which elevates me in my pure essence above nature, and requires of me, as an empirical l)eing in time, to elevate myself al)ove nature. For nature has causality, and is a power in relation to me ; nature produces an impulse within me, which, when directed upon my purely formal freedom, utters itself as an inclination. But according to the higher impulse, tliis power of nature has not, and shall not, have control over me ; I am to deter- mine myself utterly independent of the impulses of nature. Through this higher impulse, I am thus not only separated from, but likewise elevated aljove nature ; I am not only a link in the scries of natural, but I can, more- over, self-actively interfere in this series. In perceiving the power of nature to lie below me, that power becomes something which I no longer esteem. For I only esteem that which arouses me to exert all my energy in order merely to counterbalance it; and I do not esteem that which does not demand such energy of me. This is the case with nature ; one resolve, and I stand above nature. If, on the other hand, I should surrender myself, and become a part of that which I cannot esteem, I also can no longer esteem myself from the higher point of view. Hence, in its relation to the inclination which would drag me down into the series of natural causality, the higher impulse manifests itself as an impulse which claims my esteem, arouses me to esteem myself, and invests me with THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 149 a dignity superior to all nature. It never lias onjoyrnent for its ol)ject, and, on the contrary, dos])iscs enjoyment. The higher impulse makes enjoyment, for mere enjoy- ment's sake, contemptible. It has for its ol)ject solely tiic maintenance of my dignity, which consists in absolute ßclf-determinedness and self-sufficiency. CHAPTEli Vlil. CONX'ERNING CONSCIENCE. In opposition to our usual habit, it becomes almost necessary for us to step out of the systematic connection, in order to furnish a preliminary description of a concep- tion, through which we hope to spread a clearer liglit over the important but difficult investigation to which we now have to pass over. It is a fact that some events are utterly indi fie rent to us, while others arouse our interest; and it is to be supposed that these expressions are understood by all. That which is indifierent to me has apparently no relation — but since this is impossible, it has only a remote rela- tion—to my impulse. That which interests me, on the contrary, must have an ivimcdiatc relation to my impulse, and cannot be produced by any arguments. No one can cause you to rejoice or sorrow by the power of his demon- strations. All mediated interest (interest is something as a means to attain a certain object) is grounded in an immediate interest. What does this signify: something has immediate relation to an impulse ? The impulse itself is only object of feeling ; hence, an immediate relation to it could also only be felt. An interest in something is of an immediate character, signifies therefore : its harmony or disharmony with the impulse is felt in advance of all reasoning, and independent of all reasoning. But I feel only myself; and, hence, this harmony or ISO THE PRINCIPLE OP MORALITY. 151 di^hr.niiony must l)e iu iiiyself, or must be siuiply a harmony or disharmouy of myself with myself. Let us look at the matter from another side. All interest is mediated throuj^h the interest I liave iu myself, and it is only a modification of this self-interest. Whatsoever interests me relates itself to me ; I enjoy in all enjoyment, I suHer in all sufTcring. "Whence arises this interest in myself ? Simply from an impulse, since all interest arises from an impulse, and it arises in this manner: my fundamental impulse, as a ])ure and em- pirical being who have liecome one, out of these two very different components of myself, only through means of that impulse, is an impulse craving harmony between my original Ego, as determined in the mere idea, and my actual empirical Ego. Now this original im] )ulse — namely the pure and the natural impulse in their union — is a determined impulse, that is to say, is directed upon some- thing in an immediate manner. Now, whenever my actual condition agrees with this direction or requirement of the original impulse, enjoyment arises ; and whenever my actual condition contradicts that requirement, dis- satisfaction ensues ; and Ijoth enjoyment or satisfaction, and suffering or dissatisfaction, are nothing but the immediate sensation of harmony or disharmony of my actual condition, with the condition required by the original impulse. The lower faculty of desire arises from an impulse, which, in truth, is nothing but the organizing impulse of our nature. This im})ulse directs itself to the self- determined being, which is necessitated to unite that impulse with itself synthetically, or to posit itself as being impelled. The impulse manifests itself through a yearning. Where lies this yearning? Not in nature, but in the subject of consciousness, for it has Ijeen reflected. Yearning has for its object nothing that is not involved in the natural impulse ; namely, a material relation of the external world to my body. Now, posit 152 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. that tin's yearning is Katisficd, we will leave iinclccided whether hy accident or through free activity. Dou]>tlesH, this satisfaction is i)crceived. Now, why do we not con- tent ourself with the cold judgment of cognition, wjiieli we should apply to a plant, and say, "Our body grows and prospers"; why do we, moreover, say, "We experience enjoyment"? For this reason, my fundamental impulse has such a judgment for its immediate ol)ject, and hence its results. That which satisfies this impulse, and causes the enjoy- ment, is the harmony of the actuality with its require- ments. But it is quite different so far as the jture, impulse is concerned. This is an impulse to be active for the sake of being active, and which arises through the Ego con- templating internally its absolute jiower. Here, there- fore, there does not occur a mere feeling of the impulse, but a contemplation. The pure impulse does not occur as an affection ; the Ego is not hcinrj impelled, hut it impels itself, and contemplates itself in thus impelling itself. The pure impulse craves to find the acting Ego self- sufficient and determined through itself. It is not proper to say that this impulse is a ycarninrj — like the lower one — for it is not directed upon anything which is expected as a favour from nature, or wliich does not depend upon ourselves. This pure impulse is rather au absolute demanding. It manifests itself in consciousness with all the more vigour — so to use this expression — as it is grounded not upon a mere feeling, but upon a con- templation. Cause the Ego to act. It determines itself, of course, through itself, independently of the natural impulse, or of the requirement of the higher impulse, since it is formaliter free. Now there will either result a deter- mination such as the higher impulse required, in which case both the subject of the impulse and the actually active are in harmony, and a feeling of approval results ; THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. 153 or the reverse results, and a feeling of disapproval will arise, combined with contempt. But feeling arises only as the result of a dcterniined- ness or limitation. J>ut in the present case there is nothing but activity, in the requirement as well as in tlie fulfilling of the same. How then, may a feeling result ? Through the harmony of both, which is not an act, l)Ut a determined condition, resulting, as it does, without our active co-operation, and which, therefore, is felt. Thus it is, moreover, clear that we must not be understood as if we asserted the feeling of a contemplation, which would be contradictory. It is the harmony of the contempla- tion with the requirement of the impulse, which is felt. (This is an imi)ortant remark ; since it explains the possibility of a'sthetical feeling, which is also the feeling of a contemplation, and lies between the two feelings here described.) Now can this approval, or disapproval, be cold — a mere judgment of cognition — or must it necessarily be con- nected with a feeling of interest ? Evidently the latter ; for that requirement of absolute self-activity, and of the harmony of the empirical Ego with this requirement, is itself the oriijinal imp%dse. Now if the latter harmonizes with the former, an impulse is being satisfied ; and if it does not harmonize with it, an impulse remains un- satisfied ; hence that approval is necessarily associated with satisfaction, and that disapproval with dissatisfac- tion. It cannot be indifferent to us, whether we must despise ourselves or not. There is, however, in this kind of satisfaction nothing which has the character of ordinary enjoyment. For the harmony of actuality with the natural impulse does not depend upon myself, in so far as I am self, ie., free. Hence the enjoyment which arises from it is of a kind which tears me away from myself, estranges me from myself, and wherein I forget myself. It is an involuntary enjoyment (which is, perhaps, the best characteristic for all sensuous enjoy- 154 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. iiient). In tlic öaiue manner it is with the oi)i)().sitc — sensuous ])ain. In relation to the pure impulse, however, tliis satisfao- tion, and the ground of tliis satisfaction, is not sonietliing foreign, but something which depends upon my freedom, something which I had cause to expect in accordance with a rule. Hence it does not conduct me out of myself, but rather l)ack into myself. It is not so much enjoyment as satisfaction, which never is the characteristic of sensuous enjoyment. It is not so turbulent, but more intense, and infuses new courage and new strcngtli. Hence also the opposite of this satisfaction — precisely l)ecause it was dependent upon our freedom — produces disijust, self-reproach — which latter never accompanies sensuous pain, as such — and self-contempt. This feeling of self-contempt would be absolutely un- bearable, if it were not that the requirement of the moral law, continuing to be addressed to us, again would raise us in our own esteem ; if it were not that this unceasing requirement of conscience, which arises out of our own self, infuses again courage and esteem in us, and if it were not that this self-contempt were lessened by the feeling that we are still capable of entertaining self-contempt. This described feeling, which might well be called Jiigher feeling, is usually named conscience. There is rent or unrest of conscience, reproaches of conscience, and l)cacc of conscience ; but there is no such thing as enjoy- ment of conscience. The term conscience is admirably chosen. It is, as it were, the immediate consciousness of that, without which no consciousness whatever were possible ; the immediate consciousness of our higher nature and absolute freedom. CHAlTEü IX. FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE OF AN APPLICABLE SCIENCE OF MORALS. A. The natural impulse is directed upon a material somewhat, simply for the sake of that material, upon enjoyment simply for the sake of enjoyment ; whereas, tlie pure impulse craves absolute independence of the active, as such, from that natural impulse, or craves freedom simply for the sake of freedom. If the pure impulse lias, nevertheless, causality, it cannot as yet be conceived otherwise than a mere negative causality, preventing the accomplishment of what the natural impulse craves ; and hence, as resulting merely in a leaving undone, Ijut not in any positive doing, except the internal act of self- determining. All writers, who have treated the science of morality in simply a formaliter way, ought to have arrived at nothing but a continual self-denial — utter abnegation and vanishing of self, as those mystics hold, who teach that we ought to dissolve our self into God, which proposition has, indeed, for its basis something true and. sublime, as will appear hereafter. But if we look closer at the requirement just now established, with a \dew to determine it, we shall find that it will vanish under our very hands into a nothing. The higher impulse, which addresses itself to the subject of consciousness, requires that I shall be able to posit myself as free, in a retlection. Hence I am, indeed, «55 156 TUR SCIENCE OE ETHICS. to "poüt iny fro.odoin, as a^ws/^ür Rojiiowliat, aa tlu; ground of an actual doing, and not of a mere leaving undone. I, the reilecting, am, therefore, to relate a certain deter- mination of the will to myself as the determining, and to be forced to attribute this will solely to my self-deter- mination. Hence, the willing, which is to 1)0 related, is to be something objective, perceptil)le, in us. But everything objective belongs to us solely as sensuous and natural beings; in fact, through this mere objectivating, we are ourselves posited for ourselves in this objective sphere. Let me state this proposition, well known in its generality, and elsewhere abundantly proven, in its special relation to the present case: All actual willing is necessarily directed upon an acting, but all my acting > is an acting directed upon objects. Is^ow, in the world of objects, I always act by means of natural force, and this force is given to me solely throngli the natural impulse, nay, is nothing but this impulse as it exists in me ; or, in other words, is simply nature's own causality directed upon nature itself, but which is no longer within natiu'e's own control, as a dead and unconscious nature, having passed under my control, as an intelligence, through means of my free reflection. Hence, even the most immediate object of all possible willing is necessarily something empirical, is a certain determination of my sensuous power, given to me through my natural impulse, and thus something required by that natural impulse, ' since this impulse only gives by requiring. Each possible conception of an end tends, therefore, to satisfy a natural impulse. In short, all actual willing is empirical. A pure will is uo actual will, but a mere idea, a some- thing alisolute from out of the intelligible world, which we think of as the explanatory ground of some- thing empirical. It is scarcely to be apprehended, after all we have said previously, that anyone should understand us as asserting that the natural impulse, as such, produces the willing. THE PRTNCIPLE OF MORALITY. 157 It is I who will, and not naturo that wills within mo; nevertheless, so far as the suhstance of my will is con- cerned, I can only will that whi(;h nature woidd also will, had she the power to will. Thus, not the impulae to have al)Solnte material freedom, but, at least, the causality of that impulse seems utterly cancelled. lu truth, o\\\y formal freedom remains to me. Although I am impelled to do something, which might have its material ground solely in myself, I, nevertheless, do never and can never do anything, which the natural impulse docs not require, since all my possible acting is exhausted through that impulse. But the causality of my pure impulse must never be cancelled, since I posit myself as Ego only in so far as I posit such causality. We are involved in a contradiction which is all the more remarkable since what both of the propositions, just now mentioned, estal)lish as this contradiction, is also established as a condition of self-consciousness. How is this contradiction to be solved ? According to the laws of synthesis, only in the following manner : the material of the act must be at the same time, and in one and the same acting, conformable to the pure impulse, and to the natural impulse. As both are united in the original impulse, so must they be united in the actuality of acting. This can only be comprehended as follows. The pur- pose, the conception which directs the act, has for its object complete liberation from nature ; but that the act is, and remains nevertheless conformable to the natural impulse, is the result, not of our freely produced con- ception, but of our limitedness. The only determining ground of the matter of our acts is to relieve ourselves of our dependence from nature, although the required independence never results. The pure impulse craves for absolute independence, and the act is in conformity with that impulse if it also is directed upon such iude- 158 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. pcndeiice, that is to Bay, if it lies in a scries, the completion whereof v'ouhl result in the absolute independence of the Erjo. Now, accordiii^^ to the j)roof just cstahh'slied, the El^'o can never become iiulepcndent, so lonn; as it is to l)e Ego; and hence the final end of rational beings lies necessarily in infinitude, and is an end wliich can never be realized completely, l»ut to which the Ego can incessantly draw nearer by virtue of its spiritual nature. I must here take cognizance of an objection which I would not have considered possil)le had it not been raised by men of good minds, and wlio are even well initiated 'n transcendental pliilosophy. How is it possible, say they, to draw nearer to an infinite end ? does not all finite size vanish into nothingness when related to infinity? This question sounds as if I were speaking of infinitude as a thing in itself. / draw nearer, for myself. But I never can grasp infinitude, and hence have always a determined end liefore my eyes, to which - I doubtless can draw nearer, although, after having attained it, 1 may have removed my true end just as far, partly through the greater perfection my whole Ijeing has acquired, and partly through the greater perfection of my insight ; and although I may thus be as much, removed as ever, in this general sense, from the infinite, and may never get nearer to it, my end lies in infinitude because my dependence is an infinite dependence. This dependence I never seize, however, in its infinite character, but only in its determined sphere, and in this determined sphere I doubtless can make myself more and more independent. There must be such a series, in the continuating whereof the Ego can think itself as drawing nearer to absolute independence, for only on this condition is a causality of the pure impulse possible. This series is necessarily determined from the first point, upon which nature has placed a person, into infinity (of course only ideally), and hence in each possible case it is determined THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. T59 what the pure impulse may require under such conditions. Hence we can call this series the moral deterniinednes3 of the finite rational being. Now, although this series is as yet unknown to us, we have clearly aliown that it must necessarily occur. We are, therefore, safe in basing on this result, and may establish, as the fundamental l)rinciple of the science of morality, the following proposition : Do at each time lohai thou art (f der mined to do, or fulfil always thy destination, although the question. What am I determined to do, or wiiat is my destination ? is not answered. If this proposition is expressed : Fulfil thy destination is general, it involves at once the infinity of the end established for us, since that end can be fulfilled in no time. (The error of the mystics is based on their representing this infinite, and in no time completely attainable end, as an end attain- al^le in time. The utter annihilation of the individual, and submersion of the same in the absolute and pure form of reason, or in God, is most certainly the final end of finite reason, but it is also not possible in any time.) The possibility to fulfil at each time, singly, one's destination, is certainly grounded through nature herself, and given in nature. The relation of the natural impulse to the principle here established is as follows : at each moment something is conformable to our moral destination, and this same something is also required at the same time by the natural impulse (provided nature is left to herself, and has not been made artificial through a corrupt imagination). But it by no means follows that all that which the natural impulse requires should also be conformable to our moral determinedness. For instance, let the series of the natural impulse, con- sidered by itself, be A, B, C, etc. Now the moral determinedness of the individual may, perhaps, take and realize only a part of B, whereby the natural impulse resulting from B will certainly be altered; but even in this, its altered form, the moral determinedness of the i6o THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS, individual may take and realize only a part of if and 60 on «rf ^vfinüu.^ P.ut in eaci. possible detcrmineiness oth nnpulses part y join. It is only tlms that morality IS possible in actual acting. "^ It is posRilüe to e.vplahi still more clearly the mutual STs : "1 '"^^"^ ^^'^ ^"'^^'^^^ -1-'- "-"^^- Itself as the just now described moral, and on no account AS a ;;,.r. impulse; it does not manifest itself as an impulse which craves absolute independence, l>ut as an impulse craving determined acts, which acts, howevtr- 1 he impulse craving them is brought to consciousness and they are examined closer-will show themselves to lie m that series of absolute independence of the Ego. For It ha^ already been shown, that the impulse, as a vnre impulse, as one directed merely upon a negation, can never enter consciousness. M^e never become conscious of a negation, simply because it is nothing. Experience moreover, proves this; we feel impelled to do this ov tha and reproach ourselves for having left undone this or that. All this we state here to correct those who deny consciousness of the categorical imperative (of the moral impulse), and do not admit a" pure impulse We show here that a thorough transcendental philosophy also does not assert such a consciousness. The Lrc impulse IS beyond all consciousness, and is merely the transcendental explanatory ground of something in con- sciousness. - ^ The moral impulse is a mixed impulse, as we have shown. 1 rom the natural impulse it receives the material or Its object; in other words, the natural impulse is' directed upon the same act, which it craves, at least in part. But Its form it has solely from the pure impulse. It 18 absolute, like the pure impulse, and demands, with- out any external end, simply because it does. It has absolutely no enjoyment of any kind for its object. In snort, what it craves is absolute independence. ' But has this independence then no end again, no enjojinent, or THE PRINCIPLE OF MORALITY. i6i something of the kind, for its final object? No; ab- solutely no such end. That a])solutG independence is simply its own end. I am to crave it sim])ly because I am to crave it ; simply because I am I, The internal satisfaction, which accompanies its attainment, is some- thing accidental. The impulse does not arise from it, but it arises from the impulse. The moral impulse appeals to esteem; and obedience, or disobedience to it, excites approval or disapproval, self- satisfaction, or most painful self-contempt. The impulse is 'positive; it impels to a determined activity. It is general; and relates itself to all possible free acts, to each manifestation of the natural ijnpulse, which is brought to consciousness. It is self -sufficient, always pro- posing to itself its own aim ; it craves absolute causality, and stands in recijjrocit)/ with the natural impulse, Ijorrow- ing from it its matter, and giving it its form. I'inally, it commands categorically. What this impulse requires is imperatively required, and as a necessity. B. The moral impulse demands freedom for the sake of freedom. Who does not perceive that the word freedom is used here in two difTerent meanings? In the latter instance it is used to designate an objective condition to be produced, or the final absolute end, namely, complete independence from all externality ; whereas, in the first instance, it signifies an acting as such, and not any real being, signifies, in short, some- thing purely subjective. I am to act free in order to become free. But even in the conception of freedom as it occurs in the first instance, a distinction is to be observed. When a free act occurs, we may ask (i) How it must be done in order to be a free act, and (2) what must be done to constitute it a free act. In short, we may inquire after both the form and the content of freedom. Now the content we have already investigated, and K i62 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. have found that the act must be one of a series. Lhroui-h the infinite continuation whereof tlie E^'o will become absolutely independent. We have now, thcrcf(n-c, to look finally at the form. I am to act fne, that is to say, I as posited Ego, as intelligence, am to determine myself, or am to act with consciousness of my absolute self-determining character ; with considerateness and reliection. Only thus do I act free as intelligence ; and otherwise I act blindly, as chance impels me. I, as intelligence, am to act in a determined manner ; that is to say, I am to become conscious of the ground, why I act precisely in this manner. Now this ground cannot, because it must not, be anotlier ground, Ijecause this precise act lies within the descriljed series — or since this is a philosophical view and not the view of common consciousness — because this act is duty. I am to act solely conformably to the conception of my duty, am to determine myself solely through the thought th.-it this act is my duty, and through no other thouglit or motive. A few words concerning the last remark. Even the moral impulse is not to determine me as mere blind impulse ; indeed, the very thing is contradictory, and morality can never merely impel. We touch here again what we have already said: when it appeared that the impulse, to l»e self-active, addresses itself to the intelligence as such ; the intelligence is to be self-determined us intelligence; but an intelligence, as such, is onlv self-determined when it determines itself through conception, and absolutely not through mere impulse. The impulse, therefore, Ijoth craves and does not crave causality, and has causality eimply through not having it, since it demands of the intelligence : he free ! If the impulse is mere impulse it is not moral, but altogether natural impulse, for it is altogether immoral to be blindly impelled. This is, fpr instance, the case with the impulses of sympathy, THE PRINCIPT.E OF MORALITY. 163 humanity, &c. It will iii)])cni-, in the ijiojxm- i)lace, that these iiii})nlscs are inaiiitV'.statioiiH of the moral impulse, hut mixed with the natural im])ulsc, as indeed the moral impulse is always mixed. Now, the man who follows these impulses may act very charitahly, humanely, &c., hut he does not act morally, on the contrary, in so far as he hlindly follows these impulses, he acts immorally. Here, therefore, arises for the first time the categorical imperative, as heing a conception and not an impulse. It is not the impulse which is itself the categorical in)])era- tive, hut the impulse drives us to form such an imjjcrative; impels us to say that something shall be done. It is our own product; our product in so far as we are intelligences, or beings capable of producing conceptions. Thus then, the rational being, in determining its will, is, in form, torn loose from all which is not itself. Matter does not determine the rational being, nor does the rational being determine itself through the mediation of anything material, but solely through the formal, and, in itself, generated conception of an aljsolute imi^erative. And, in this manner, we indeed receive hack again the rational being in its actuality, precisely as we originally posited it: namely, as the absolutely self-determined; as, indeed, everything that is original must represent itself in actuality, only with further additions and determinations. It is only in the act impelled by duty that we find such a representative of the rational l)eing, for all other acts have a determining ground which is foreign to the intelligence as such. Hence, Kant also says that it is only through the power of morality that the rational being manifests itself as something in itself, namely, as something independent, self-sufficient, existing through no reciprocity with anything external, but simply existing for itself. Hence also, the inexpressibly sublime character of duty, since all that is external sinks down so low under us, and vanishes into nothingness, when compared with our destination. i64 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. From the form of morality follow tlicse two results: I. I am to act, in general, with considcrateness and consciousness, not blindly and in obedience to mere im- pulses, and, in particular, with the consciousness of duty; I am never to act without first having related my act to this conception. Hence, there are no indifTerent acts at all. The moral law relates to all acts — if not materialiter, at least surely formaliter — which are truly acts of the intelligent being. Formaliter: for we are to inquire whether the moral law relates to them or not, and this very inquiry establishes already a relation. But even materialiter the relation can be proven: for I am never to obey the sensuous impulse as such, but all my acts are result of that impulse ; hence I must relate each act to the moral law, or I cannot act at all. 2. / am never to aet against my conviction. To do so is completest perversity and wickedness. How it happens that such a perver.sity, which in itself seems impossible, is nevertheless possiUe, and that it loses, at least, that horrible character which it has for every uncorrupted man in its true appearance, we shall show hereafter. Both these results gathered into one might be expressed: Act always in accordance with your best conviction of your duty ; or, a^t according to your conscience. This is the formal condition of the morality of our acts, which, for that reason, has been pre-eminently called : the morality of those acts. We shall discuss these formal conditions of morality in the first chapter of our Applied Science of Morals, and establish in the second the material conditions of the morality of our acts. PART IL SYSTEMATIC APPLICATION OF THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY BOOK THIRD. CONCERNING THE FORMAL CONDITIONS OF THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. Preliminary. concerning the will in particular. I MIGHT begin ininiediately with a synthetic, systematic deduction of the formal conditions of the morality of our .acts. But since tliis formal morality, indeed, what is pre-eminently termed morality, is also called fjoocl will, and as I myself intend thus to characterize it, it behoves me to first give an account of my conception or the will. True, all that wliich Ijelongs to this investigation has l)een already said under other names, and yet, for that very reason, it is necessary to say it also under the present name, in order to connect what will follow with what has been previously established. A willing is an a1)solutely free transition from undeter- minedness to determinedness, with consciousness of this transition. This act has been abundantly described before. In the examination of this willing we may draw a distinction between the Ego which proceeds from un- determinedness to determinedness, and which is called the objective Ego, and the Ego which contemplates itself in this transition, and which is called the subjective Ego. But, in willing itself, both are united. The impulse, the yearning, the desire, is not the will. The " impulse, to be sure, is accompanied by an inclination, and the desire, moreover, by consciousness of the object of this inclination; 167 1 68 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. but neither is accompanied by a (Icterininediicss of tlio Ego. Desire would well like, its oliject to come to it, Ijut cannot its(>lf move hand or foot to reach it. It is only tln'ough willing that deterniinedness result«. If we look at the general "power of making tliat transition consciously, and the laws of theoretical reason force us to add such a power in tliinking to the act of transition, we shall arrive at the conception of willing in general, as a jwiuer to will. This is an abstract conce))tion, notliing actually perceptible, not a fact. An actually perceptible transition gives a willing. But a willing is not completed, and is indeed, no willing, unless it is determined. But when it is determined it is no longer called willing, but a will ; as, for instance, viy will, your will, this will, etc. In common life, tiiis distinction between this general con- ception of willing, as a power to will, and a will, as a determined expression of this general power, is never made, because it is not necessary to make it in ordinary life; but in philosophy, where it is very necessary to make this distinction, it has also never been made. The will is free in the mateiial significance of the word. The Ego, in so far as it wills, proposes to itself as intelli- gence the object of its willing, by choosing from many possible objects one particular oly'ect, and by changing the undeterminedness, which the intelligence contemplates and comprehends, into a likewise contemplated and com- prehended determinedness. The fact that the object may be given through the natural impulse does not contradict this result. For the natural impulse only gives it as an object of yearn- ing or desire, but not as an object of the vjill or of the determined resolve to realize it. In this respect the will absolutely gives itself its own object. In short, the will is absolutely free, and an unfree will is an absurdity. ]f man wills, he is free, and if he is not free, he does not will, but is impelled. Nature produces no will, nay, strictly speaking, nature cannot even produce a yearning, THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 169 as wc have seen l)cfore, since yearning ])re.su) »poses a reflection. It is true that in this rellectioii the Kgo does not yet become conscious of itself as of a re(lcctinut the true contradiction lies much higher than they believe. It is a contradiction to their whole individual power of thinking, to conceive another series than the series of natural mechanism. They have never elevated themselves to the higher manifestations of thinking, and hence their absolute presupposition which they, indi- vidually, cannot surmount. Their absolute principle is : " everything happens mechanically," for in their clear THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 171 consciousness nothin]y a proof of our assertion, and liistory l^econics comprehcnsihle only through the present position of such a mode of tliinking. Subjugation of the bodies and souls of nations, wars of conquest and of religion, all the misdeeds, in short, which have ever dishonoured mankind ; how are they to be explained ? "What induced the subjugator to pursue his ol)ject against danger and labour ? j[)id he hope thereby to enlarge the sources of his sensuous • enjoyment? By no means. "That which I will, shall 1)6 done ; what I say, shall 1)e law 1 " This was the only principle which moved him. It has already been acknowledged that this kind of character has not enjoyment for its object. The egotistic self-merit which accompanies it is based on the con- sciousness of sacrifices, which we need not have made in our opinion. True, the satisfaction of these sacrifices affords an enjoyment afterwards, which enjoyment is not sensual, namely, the enjoyment of these caresses which we lavish upon ourselves ; Ijut this enjoyment was not the end we had in view ; not the motive power of our acts. The real object which governs our acts, althougli it is never clearly thought and raised to consciousness, is this, that our lawless arbitrariness may govern every- thing. We sacrifice our enjoyment to this purpose, and then flatter ourselves at our unselfishness. If man is regarded as a natural being, this mode of thinking has one advantage over the one previously described, which estimates everything according to the sensual enjoyment which it furnishes. Viewed from this standpoint, such a character inspires admiration ; whereas the man who first calculates how much enjoyment he may get out of an act, inspires contempt. For this character, after all, is, and remains, independence from all the external world ; is a self-sufficiency. It might be called the heroic character. In fact, it is the usual mode of thinking of the heroes of history. THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 201 But when we regard this character from the moral standpoint, it has no vahie at all, since it does not proceed from' morality. Nay, it is more dangerous than the former sensuous character. For it falsifies and soils — if not the principle of morality, since that does not exist for this mode of thinking — at least, the judgment of material acts emanating from that principle; since it accustoms men to consider tliat which is merely duty as something nol)le and meritorious. True, the publican and sinner has no more value than the self-conceited Pharisee, for both have no value at all ; but it is easier to convert the former than the latter. 4. Man has nothing further to do than to raise that craving for absolute self-sufficiency, which, when working as a blind impulse, produc&s a very immoral character into clear consciousness, and the impulse will, througli this mere reflection, change in consciousness into an absolutely imperative law, as has already been shown. As every reflection limits the reflected, thus the reflected impulse is also limited through this reflection, and in virtue of this limitedness it changes from a blind craving for absolute causality into a law of conditioned causality. Man now knows that he shall (ought to) do something absolutely. Now if this knowing is to change into acting, man must make it a maxim for himself, to do always, and in every case, that which duty demands, precisely because duty demands it. The latter condition, indeed, is already involved in the conception of a maxim, as being the highest and absolute rule, which recognizes no higher one. It is absolutely impossible and contradictory that any- one with a clear consciousness of his duty should, in the moment of action, consciously resolve not to do his duty. That he should revolt and refuse obedience to the iaw^, and make it his maxim not to do what his duty is precisely because it is his duty. Such a maxim 202 ; , THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. were devilish ; but the conception of a devil contradicts, and thus cancels itself. This we prove as follows : — Man is clearly conscious of his duty, signifies: Man, as an intelligence, absolutely requires of himself to do something. Now, to say man consciously resolves to act against his duty, signifies : he requires of himself in the same undivided moment, not to do that very thing. Hence, in the same undivided moment, the same intelli- gence in him must require contradictory acts, which is certainly a self-annihilating proposition, and the most flagrant contradiction. But it is very possible to darken in one's self the clear consciousness of the requirement of duty. For this consciousness arises only through an act of absolute spontaneity, and remains only through the continuation of that act of freedom ; when we cease to reflect it vanishes. (It is the same with this consciousness as with many conceptions of transcendental philosophy. As soon as we descend from the higher standpoint, upon which alone they are possible, they vanish into nothingness.) The matter therefore stands in this shape : if we continue to reflect in accordance with the requirement of the law, and keep it in view, it is impossible for us not to act in conformity .with it — impossible to resist it. If, on the contrary, we lose sight of it, it is equally impossible to act conformably to it. In either case there is necessity, and we thus seem to fall into an intellectual fatalism, but of a lower kind than the ordinary one. For according to the ordinary intellectual fatalism, the moral law which exists in man, -without any co-operation of his own, causes, in one case, consciousness of itself, as well as acts in conformity with it; and, in another case, it does not produce such consciousness or such acts, and hence leaves open room for lower impulses. We have already done away with this sort of fatalism by showing that the moral law is not sometliing which exists within THE AfORALHY OF OUR ACTIONS. 203 ua, iiKlopendently of our co-operation, being, on the contrary, first created by ourselves. But the present kind of fatalism holds that either the moral law continues in our consciousness, in which case it necessarily produces moral acts, or it vanishes, in which case moral acts are impossible. Hence the appearance of fatalism vanishes altogether as soon as we observe that it depends upon our freedom wliether that consciousness shall continue in us, or shall darken itself. It is the same with this consciousness as with the above-mentioned standpoint of reflection. Again, let it be well noted that this act of freedom, which either retains that consciousness clear, or allows it to be darkened, is also an absolute first, and hence unexplainable act. It occurs, not according to a maxim and hence not Avith accompanying consciousness of wliat I do, and not with a consciousness of the freedom where- with I do it. If it did, the allowing that consciousness to be darkened would be precisely that conscious revolt against the moral law, which we have shown to be a contradiction. It occurs, when it occurs, simply hecause it occurs without any higher ground. Or, to represent the matter from still another side: the vanishing of the consciousness of duty is an abstractian. Xow, there are two very different kinds of abstraction. Either I make the abstraction with clear consciousness, and according to a rule ; or the abstraction arises in me of its own account, even where I did not intend to abstract, through an undetermined thinking, such as, for instance, produces all formular philosophy. Xow the vanishing whereof we speak here, is of the latter kind ; it is an undetermined thinking, and a violation of duty because the determined consciousness of duty is itself duty. It is through thoughtlessness and that inattentiveness to oar higher nature, wherewith our life necessarily •begins, that we grow accustomed to this thoughtlessness, and thus drift along in our usual current. But this 204 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. does not imply, by any means, that we cannot, tlirongli freedom, get out of tliis current. In tJie .same manner we may, on tlie other liand, hahituatc onrself to matuic consideration and attentiveness to tlie law, without tliis habit becoming a necessity for us. I'ractice and attentive- ness, nay, careful watching of one's self, must Ijc in- cessantly continued. No one is sure for one moment of his morality without continued exertion. Xo man, nay, so far as we can see, no finite being is confirmed in goodness. The determined clear consciousness of the moral law vanishes. Two cases are supposable. Either this con- sciousness vanishes altogether and no thought of duty remains until after the act; in which case we act either according to the maxim of selfishness, or in ol^edience to the blind impulse to have our lawless will rule everywhere. We have already described both of these conditions. Or there remains a consciousness of duty, but only an indistinct consciousness. Here it is important, first of all, to note how a determined consciousness may change itself into an undetermined and wavering consciousness. All our consciousness begins with undeterminedness, for it begins with the power of imagination, which is a power of floating undecidedly over two opposites. It is only through the nnderstanding that the product of this floating, which, as yet, has no outlines, becomes fixed and determined. But, even after it has been determined, it may easily happen that the sharp outline is lost sight of, and that the object is again . held merely by the power of imagination. This we do, for instance, consciously whenever we form a general conception in arbitrary abstraction ; we drop the particular determinations, and thus raise the conception to a general one. True, the conception remains determined in this instance; the very fact that it is, in a certain degree, undetermined, constituting its determinedness. Uncon- sciously, WQ do it when we are thoughtless or distrait. THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 205 P.y far the fewest men 8ei/ce thinga determinedly and closely defined. Olijects only float vaguely before their minds as in a dream or as covered by a fog. Now, was tlieir understanding then altogether inactive? Certainly not, or no consciousness at all would have been possible. lUit the determinedness iinmeere would be no difficulty about the asser- tion. It would be an altogether problematical statement. But how do we come to make the statement categorical and positive ; how do we come to say it is certainly not necessary, but it is to be expected that man will remain on that standpoint ? What is it which we really do assert in this statement, and what is the posiiiveness which we presuppose unwittingly ? It is this : man will not do anything, which is not absolutely necessary, and which he is not comjKlled by his nature as man to do. We therefore presuppose an original laziness to reflect, and what is simply the result of it, to act in accordance with such reflection. This would, therefore, be a true positive radical evil, and not merely a negative evil, as it has hitherto seemed to appear. It was indeed necessary that it should be thus. We had need of a positive, were it but to explain the negative. Now, what justifies such a presupposition? Is it P 2IO THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. merely experience? Kant seems to assume this, aUliou-li lie arrives at the same conclusion, wliich we shall immediately arrive at. But mere experience would never justify such a universal presupposition. Hence there must be a rational ground for it ; not one which venerates necessity, for then freedom would be cancelled, but one which renders explicable tliat universality of experience. We ascribe to nature as sucli a ]jower of inertia {vis inerticc). This results, indeed, from the conception of the causality of a free ])eing, wliich must necessarily occur in time if it is to be perceptiljle, and which could not so occur, were it not ]iosited as resisted by external objects. True, the conception of a power of inertia seems contradictory, but nevertheless it is a real one ; and it is only requisite that we should understand it properly. Nature, as such, as mere Ego and Object in general, has only repose, only being ; it is what it is, and in so far no active power whatsoever is to be ascrilied to nature. But for the very purpose of thus remaining, or reposing, nature must have a quantum of tendency or power to remain what it is. If it has not tins power, nature would not retain its form for a moment, would change incessantly and thus have no form at all. In Bhort"^ nature would not be nature. Now, if an opposite power influences nature, nature necessarily resists with all its power, in order to remain as it is; and it is only now, through relation to an opposite power, that what was before inertia becomes activity. It is thus that both conceptions are syntlietically united, and it is this synthesis which is signified by a 2^owcr of inertia. Now, on the indicated standpoint we ourselves are nothing but nature. Our powers are powers of nature, and although it is freedom which gives them vitality, since the causality of nature came to an end in the impulse, yet the direction is absolutely no other than the direction which nature itself would have taken, if left THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 211 undisturbed. IMoreover, the fact that we do occupy the described standpoint, is also to be taken into considera- tion, since it is a necessary fact, as a result of natiirul nieclmnisin. Thus we are nature in every rcsjjcct. But that wliich appertains to all nature nnist also a])})ertii,in to man in so far as lie is Jiature : a reluctance to enieig(i from liis prcvsent condition ; a tendency to remain in the old accustomed pathway. It is only thus alone tliat we explained a universal phenomenon amongst men, which is illustrated in all human actions : ih& possibility of habit, and the ten- dency to remain in the old Itcaten track. Each man, even the most powerful and active, has his " Schlendrian," to use a low but very characteristic expression, and will have to fight against it all his lifetime. This is the power of inertia in our nature. Even the regularity and order of most men is nothing but this tendency to repose and habit. It always costs labour to tear loose from it. Even if we are successful for once, and if the stirrinfr up holds on awhile, we nevertheless fall back into our old laziness as soon as we cease to watch ourselves. Let us consider man in the described condition. Since he is, in general, in his original essence, altliough not in actuality, free and independent of nature, he is certain to tear himself loose from this condition, and can-do so, if we regard him as absolutely free ; but he must be free before he can tear himself thus loose through freedom. It is precisely his freedom which is enchained ; the power which is to help him is in league against him. There is no equilibrium, no balance ; the weight of nature drags him down, and there is no weight of the moral law to counterbalance it. Now it is true enough that man absolutely ought to place himself in the other scale, and ought to decide that step ; it is likewise true that man has the actual power within him to give himself sufficient weight to overbalance his inertia or laziness, and that he can at each moment, through a pressure upon himself 212 THE SCIENCE OF ETHTCS. by mcana of the mere will, raise this power; but how is ho to get this will, this first pressure upon himself ? It is by no means a result of his condition, which, on the contrary, rather retards it. Moreover, this first pressure is not to arise from his natural state, Ijut absolutely from his self-activity. But where, then, in his natural condition, is tlie point from which lie mi^dit raise tiiat power ? Absolutely nowhere. If we view the matter from a natural point of view, it is absolutely impossible that man should help liimself, or should grow better. Only a miracle, to be achieved by himself, can help him. (Hence those who assert a servimt arlitrium, and characterize man as a piece of log or a stick, who cannot, through his own power, move liimself, but must be im- pelled by a higher power, are altogether in the right, ajul logical, if they speak of the natural man.) Laziness, therefore, reproducing itself infinitely through long habit, and soon changing into utter impotency to be good, is the true, inborn evil which has its ground in human nature itself, and can be easily enough ex- plained from it. Man is by nature lazy, says Kant very correctly. From this laziness next arises cowardice, the second fundamental vice of man. Cowardice is laziness to main- tain our freedom and independence in our contact with others. Each one has courage enough when ojiposed to a man, of whose weakness he is already convinced; but if he has not this conviction, if he comes in contact with a man in whom he presumes more strength — no matter of what kind — than he himself possesses, he gets afraid at the exertion of power which he will need to maintain his independence, and hence gives way. Only thus is slavery, physical as well as moral slavery, amongst men to be explained : subjection and authority woi'ship. I am terror-stricken in view of the bodily exertion of resistance, and subject my body ; I am terror-stricken at the trouble of self-thinking, which somebody else THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 213 requires of nic by making bold or intricate statements, ami asking me to see into them ; and I rather submit to his authority, so as to get soon rid of hi.s demands upon me. (There are always men who wisli to nde ; we have stated the reason above. IJut these are tlie fewer and more energetic men. Tiiey have a l^old, strong character. How, then, does it liappen tliat tlie others, who, united, would be much stronger, suljmit to these few ? Thus : the trouljle which it would require of them to resist, is more painful to them than the slavery to which they submit, and wJiich tliey hope they sliall be able to bear. The least exertion of power is far more painful to ordinary man than thousandfold suffering, and he would rather bear everything than act once. In suffering he at least remains passive and quiet, and gets accustomed to it. Thus the sailor of the anecdote was willing rather to comfort himself with tlie hope that he should be able to stand it in hell, than exert himself sufficiently to better himself in this life. There he would only suffer, but here he should have to act.) The coward comforts himself in this subjection, which after all is not lieartfelt, by means of falseness and deception ; for the third fundamental vice of man, which naturally arises from cowardice, is falseness. Man cannot 80 utterly deny his selfhood and sacrifice it to another, as he may pretend to do, in order to be relieved of the trouble to defend himself openly. Hence he only shams it in order to espy a better opportunity, and that he may oppose his oppressor when the same shall no longer have his attention directed upon him. All falseness, all lying, all cunning and treachery, arise from the fact that there are oppressors, and everyone who oppresses must expect such results. Only the coward is false. The courageous man lies not, nor is he false ; if not from virtue, at least from pride and strength of character. This is the position of the ordinary natural man. Ordinary, I say ; for the extraordinary man, whom nature 2r4 THE SCIENCE OF ET/f/CS. lias specially favoured, ha« a powerful cliaractcr, alUioiirr'r. from a moral ])oiut of view he is no heUer. lie is ueiUier lazy, nor cowardly, nor falHe ; l»ut he train]»le.s overl>ear- in^ kind utterly ininionil, as has been sliown above. It is very natural that those men from whose inner consciousness this moral sensibility (lcvelo])ed itself— as by a real miracle and without any external cause — not meeting with this same sensibility in tlieir fellow-men, should have interpreted it as having Ijcen efi'ected in them through an exterjial spiritual Ijeing; and if they meant their empirical Ego as signifying themselves, they doubtless were right. It is possible that this interpreta- tion has descended down unto our times. It is a theoretically true interpretation, if meant to indicate what we have just stated, and even, if not exactly so explained, is utterly without danger, 'provided it is Tiot made iise of to enforce blind obedience ; and each one may :^old whatsoever he chooses regarding this matter; practically it is of no significance to most men. BOOK FOURTH. CONCERNING THE MATERIAL CONDITIONS OF THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. Preliminary. A. I HAVE cansality, signifies, as we know : That which I proposed to myself, as end, actually occurs. "We have seen, from the transcendental standpoint, that this agree- ment of perception with the will is, in its highest ground, nothing but an agreement of our empirical being, as determined through absolute spontaneity, with an original impulse. If I determine myself to do something which my original impulse actually demands, I, as the em- pirically-determined time -being, am being placed in harmony with my original self, as it exists without any consciousness of mine. Thus there arises in me a feeling, for I feel myself whole; and this feeling is a perception, as has been shown more at length above. Now the original impulse is directed upon manifold matters, for it has been given me for all eternity, and throughout all eternity my whole existence and ex- perience is nothing but an analysis of this, my original impulse. True, it can only be satisfied gradually, and by means of passing through various middle stages ; and even in those cases when it is satisfied, we can again, through free reflection, separate the object of the impulse into an infinite manifold. In other words : the 2»7 2l8 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. original impnlso cmvea at all tiniea a dctcrrninod onfl = X, an X (Ictermiiied thrnnj^di all that has passed before it, and through its own nature ; but nevertheless also an X, which, since it is a quantvvi, can again, through free reflection, be infinitely divided into a, h, c, and again into d, c, /, &c., &c. It is only thus that a manifold acting is possi1)le. I'ut since the wiiole X is possible — it being demanded by the original impulse.— all parts of it are likewise possible. In each case infinitely many actions are possible. But in order that something sliould occur, it is necessary not only that it be possible, but likewise, that I determine myself to do it. That which I do not will does not occur through my impulse, and only that amongst all possible acts, which I will, does occur. B. Let us linger over the conception of the manifold, which is possible as such; i.e., let us not look at the relation of these acts to each other, whether they exclude or include each other, &c., for this does not concern us as yet. Amongst this possible manifold, al^solutely only one (a determined part of the manifold) is conformable to duty, and all others are opposed to duty. (Let me observe here, moreover, that the command of duty always lies within the sphere of the possible, for it lies within the sphere of what the original impulse, upon which the moral law is based, demands. The impossible is never duty ; and duty is never impossible.) Now which then is this One, demanded through duty ? In the previous chapter we were referred for this one to an internal feeling, called conscience. Whatsoever conscience will confirm is always duty, and conscience can never err if we only attend to its voices. This, then, would be sufficient for our actual acting, and we need ' nothing more to make it possible. The popular teacher, for instance, need not go any further, and can close his moral teachings at this point. THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 219 But it is not suflicient for science. Eitlior wc must be able d jyriori to determine wliat conscience will confirm, or we must confess that a science of morality, as an applicable science, is impossil)le. Let us look at the matter from another side. Feeling decides. This decision, douljtless, ])ases itself on a law, grounded in reason, whicli certainly cannot be an object of consciousness on the standpoint of common understanding, since in consciousness it is only manifested as a feeling ; but which may, j^erliaps, l:»e dissevera])le from the transcendental point of view. Mere popular teaching remains in the standjioint of common consciousness, and hence everything which takes place on the transcendental standpoint does not occur for it, but philosophical teaching is philosophical or scientific only in so far as it rises beyond the former. Eeason is throughout determined. Hence whatsoever lives in reason, and as a consequence the whole system of conscience, which manifests itself in feelings, must also be determined. In the course of our investigation we shall find still other external grounds for tlie necessity of such a law, reason, upon which the feelings ff conscience are based. If we succeed in discovering this law, we shall have, at the same time, answered in advance of the immediate decision of conscience, the question : What is our duty ? C. We might give a preliminary answer which, although it is identical, and hence not decisive, may, nevertheless, be a guide to us in our investigation. Namely : the final end of the Moral Law is absolute independence and self-sufficiency, not merely so far as our will is concerned, for the will is always independent, but so far as our whole being is concerned. Now this end is unattainable ; true enough, but, at the same time, it can be steadily and uninterruptedly approached. Hence there must be possible from the first standpoint 220 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. of every individual a steady and iinintennptcd series of acts, thronn;h which lie can ai)iiioacli that end. Conscience can always ajtjjrovc only tliose ac^ts wliich occur in this series. Let us figure this in the sha])e of a straiglit line. Only that which occurs as jwint in this line can he approved hy conscience, and nothing else. Hence our question may also l)e framed thus: What are the acts which occur in the descrihed series ? To promote insight into the general connection of our nietliod. Our investigation connects here ])reciHely with where we dropjied it, at the end of the Second Book, concerning the applicahility of the moral })rinci[»le. "We were nnahle to see, then, how it were possible ä priori to determine our duty, and had no other criterion tliuii the approval or disapproval of our conscience after the deed. We should always have been forced to run tlie risk, and could only have collected a few moral i)rinci]i]c8 througli long exi)erieiice and after many mis-steps. Tlie moral law, as a law determining the acts, as an essentially practical law, would have been almost utterly done away with, and would have been changed into a mere regulative principle of judgment. We, then, in the first chapter of the Third Book found such a criterion, it is true, namely, the feeling of conscience, and thus we secured the practical applicability of the moral law. But although sufficient for acting in life, this was not suflicient for science. At present the question is, whether there is still a higher principle, if not in consciousness, at least in philosophy ; a highest uniting ground of these feelings of conscience. Our investigation has, therefore, evenly pursued its course, and we may hope that it will succeed in penetrating where hitherto we have been unable to pass. D. What then are in their substance these acts which lie in the series of approach to absolute self-determination? This is our present problem. We have already shown THE MORAL/TV OF OUR ACTIONS. 221 ahove, tliat tliese acts are siicli, tlirongli which we treat ol)jects coiiforinal)ly to their ])urpo.se or end. We re- capitulate in a few words. It is only in consequence of a determined limitation of tlie impulse, and in order to explain this limitednesa, that a determined ol>ject is at all posited. If this impidse itself is })osited as impulse (as a yearning or desiring) and related to the oljject, then we have that which the Ego would like to produce in the oly'ect, or what it would like to use it for; in short, we have the originally determined, and by no means arbitrarily to be posited, final end and aim of such object. But, according to our al)Ove remark, every arbitrary purpose is also an original end and aim ; or clearer, I can, at least, execute no purpose which is not demanded by an original impulse. It is, however, quite well possible that 1 am conscious only of a part of my original impulse as directed upon an object ; in which case I also comprehend only part of the purpose of the object; but if I comprehend my whole impulse in its relation to an object, then I also com- prehend the whole purpose or the final end of such object. E. Let it be well considered what this may mean ; I am to comprehend the totality of my impulse. Every totality is completed, hence limited. Thus an original limitedness of the impulse is asserted. Let it be noted, however, that it is a limitedness of an imjndse and not of an actual causality (a power to realize) that we speak here. Thus the assertion signifies, that the impulse, as original impulse, cannot crave certain things at all. What sort of a limitedness might this be? By no means one of the impulse in its form, for as such it craves, as we know, absolute self-sufficiency. But this absolute self-sufficiency is an end which lies in an infinity and can never be attained, hence the impulse in itself 222 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. cannot cease throuf^liout all infinity. Where then can the liniitedness be ? It must evidently be a material liniited- ness ; the impulse must not be able to crave certain things at all. Now this liniitedness is to be an original and necessary one ; hence grounded in reason itself, and by no means accidental and empirical. But there is no other limitedness of reason througli itself than the one which results from the identical proposition, that reason is to be reason, tliat the Ego is to be Ego. Thus it would seem that the original limited- ness of the impulse which is grounded in the Ego, is the limitedness which results from the Egohood itself; and the impulse is comprehended in its totality, wherever positively no limitedness thereof occurs beyond that which results from the Egohood itself. There can be no impulse in the Ego to cease to be Ego, or to become non-Ego ; for if there were, the impulse of the Ego would be to annihilate itself, which is con- tradictory. But again, every limitedness of the impulse, which does not result immediately from the Ego, is no original limitedness, but simply a limitedness which we have appended to ourselves through our imperfect re- flection. We have contented ourselves with so much less than we can demand. In short, the impulse, viewed in its totality, craves the absolute self-determination of an Ego as such. The con- ceptions of Egohood and of absolute self-determination are to be synthetically united, and through this synthesis we shall receive the material content of the moral law. I shall be a self-determined Ego ; this is my final end and aim : and whatsoever external things promote this my self-sufficiency, to that use I am to put them : such is their final end and aim. We have thus opened to us an even way into our investigation We have only to establish all the conditions of the Egohood as such, to relate them to the impulse of self-determination, and to THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 223 determine this impulse thereby. When we have achieved this, we shall have exhausted the content of the moral law. We now proceed to do so. I. THE BODY AS CONDITION OF THE MORAL CAUSALITY OF THE EGO. The reflecting Ego must find itself as Ego ; must, as it were, be itself given to itself. In this respect we liave shown above, that it finds itself with an impulse, which impulse, precisely because it is only found as given, and evinces no self-activity in this finding, is posited as natural impulse. That which has been thus found, being the object of a reflection, is necessarily a private and limited quantum. If the natural impulse, which in itself is one, is separated through free reflection in the before-described manner, there arises a manifold of impulses, which, however, being finite, must necessarily be a closed system of manifold impulses. I cannot look upon these impulses or this impulse as something foreign, but must relate it to myself and place it as an accidence in the same substance, which freely thinks and wills. For although I must relate that impulse to myself, and posit it as my impulse, it yet, in a certain respect, remains objective to me, to me as the truly free and self-sufficient 'Ego. There results from the impulse a mere yearning, which I can or can not satisfy, as I choose, which, there- fore, in so far as I am free, remains always outside of and under me ; in short, tliere results from it for me as intelligence, only the knowledge tliat this determined yearning is in me. As power, as motive, etc., it remains foreign to me. Now if I determine myself through freedom to satisfy this yearning, it becomes mine in quite another significance. It is now mine in so far as I am 224 THE SCIENCE OE ET///CS. frco, and liavc ap])r()j)riatccl it tlirougli freedom ; it is a.saiin;^ it to an actual being outside of me, which intended to communicate to me such a conception; and which is therefore capable of a conception of the conception. But such a being is a rational being, a being positing itself as Ego, hence an Ego. (This furnishes the only sufficient ground for concluding the existence of a rational cause outside of us; and such ground is not furnished merely by the comprehension of the influence exerted upon us, for that comprehension is always possible. [See Science of Rights.] It is a condition of self - consciousness, of Egohood, to assume an actual rational being outside of myself.) This rational being I opposit to «lyself, and myself to it ; that is to say, I posit myself as individual in relation to it, and it an individual in relation to me. Hence it is condition of Egohood to posit itself as individual. E. Hence it may be strictly ä priori proven that a rational being does not become rational in an isolated condition, but that at least one other individual outside of it must be assumed, through which it might elevate itself to freedom. But further influences, and more than one other individual, cannot be thus proven, as we shall soon see more closely. From what we have here deduced, however, there follows already a limitation of the impulse to be self- determined, and hence a further determination of morality, which we shall state at once. Xamely, my Egohood and self-sufficiency generally is conditioned THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 233 through tlie freedom of the otlicr individual; hence my craving after self •determination camiot i)08silily liave for its ol)ject to annihilate the condition of its ovm possi- hility ; namely, the freedom of tlie otlier. Xow [ am ahsolutely only to act in obedience to this impulse of self-determination, and in ol)cdience to no other impulse. Hence the present limitation of this impulse involves the absolute proliibition to disturb the freedom of the other; and the al)solute command to consider the other as self-sufficient, and never to use him as means. (The natural impulse was subordinated to the self-determining impulse. The theoretical power is not subordinated to it matcrialiter ; but neither is it to the theoretical power. But it is subordinate to the freedom of the other. I must not be self-determined at the expense of the freedom of others.) F. Through my positing even but this one otlier indi- vidual outside of me, some of all my possible free acts have become impossible for me ; namely, all those which condition the freedom ascribed by me to the other. But even in the progress of acting I must always choose some from all that which is possiljle to me, in consequence of my freedom. Now, according to our presupposition, that wliich I do not clioose, which my freedom excludes from my actions, is taken possession of not through actual, but at least through possible, individuals ; and under this presupposition I determine my individuality still further through each act. (An important conception, concerning which I explain myself still clearer, since it removes a very great diffi- culty in the doctrine of freedom.) Who am I, in truth ? That is to say, what individual am I ? And what is the ground, why I am Üiis indi- vidual and none other ? I reply : From the moment that I have arrived at consciousness / am that individual 234 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. VJhich I make myself to he with freedom, and I am it because 1 make myself it. At each luonient of iny existence my being is — if not in its conditions, at least in its final determination — a being through freedom. Through this being again is limited the possibility of my being in the future moment (that is to say, being such in the present moment, I cannot be certain things in tlie future moment) ; but which amongst all still iiossihle things in the future I choose to be, depends again upon my freedom. Jiut all this determines my individuality; all this makes me materialitcr the one who I am. But it is only under the present presupposition that there is only one individual outside of me, and that only one free influence is directed upon me, that tlie ßist condition, which might be called the root of my indi- viduality, is not determined through my freedom, but through my connection with another rational being ; whereas all following conditions depend al^solutely upon my freedom. In each future moment I must select amongst many acts, but there is no external ground why I should not select every other amongst all possible acts. G. But there may be many individuals outside of me that influence me. A priori, as we have seen, we cannot prove that this must be so ; but we, at least, owe the proof that it can be so. The essence of freedom itself compels me, as we have seen, to limit myself in each free act, and hence to leave to other possible free beings the possibility also to act free. Nothing prevents these free beings from actually existing. They can exist, so it appears at least at present, without detriment to my freedom, which must, as we have seen, be anyhow limited. But can they have actual existence for me, i.e., can 1 perceive them as actually existing, and how ? This THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 235 question might be easily answered, according to tlie above principles, as follows: tliey can intlucnce nie as free beings iniluence free beings, by rcrpiiring me to be freely active. ]iut it is not at all necessary that they should im- mediately influence me. Tliey may merely iniluence nature, and yet I will bo able to conclude from the manner of the influence as to the existence of a rational being, now that I have the conception of actual rational beings outside of inc. Originally this conclusion would have been im})Ossible for me. The mode of influencing nature here mentioned, is that mode through which a work of art is produced. Such a work evinces a con- ception of a conception, which we have shown to be the criterion of reason. For the end and aim of the product of art lies not, as in the product of nature, in itself, but outside of itself. It is always tool, or means for an end. Its conception is something which is not involved in the mere contemplation, but can only be thought : hence a mere conception. But whosoever produced the work of art, necessarily thought the con- ception he intended to represent; hence he had necessarily a conception of a conception. As sure as I recognize something to be a product of art, I necessarily posit an actually existing rational being as its originator. It is not thus with a product of nature. True, there is a conception ; but you cannot show up a conception of a conception, unless, perhaps, you presuppose it in a world creator. I have said "as sure as I recognize it as a product of art." But this itself is only possible on condition that I think already a reason outside of me ; and this latter assumption does not proceed from the perception of product of art — which would be a circle of explanation — but from the above described requirement or appeal to free activity. It ia thus on the standpoint of common consciousness, 236 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. upon which perception in us is explained through the existence of things outside of us. IJut that which is assumed on tlie standpoint of common consciousness nmst itself he explained from the transcendoital j^oint of view; on which it is not permitted to proceed from the assumption of anything external, hut on wliich that which is said to he external to us nmst first he explained from something in ourselves. Hence the higher question is to be answered : how do we come to assume products of art outside of us ? Whatsoever is held to be outside of us, is posited through a limitation of the impulse. It is the same with the art-product, in so far as it is object. Jjut whence comes the particular determination of it, tiiat it is posited as art-product ? This leads us to infer a special, peculiar limitation of the impulse. Let me say it concisely ; through^ the object in general our being is limited; or better : from the limitation of our hdng we assume an object in general ; Ijut the impulse may desire a modi- fication of the object. In the present instance, however, there is not merely a limitation of our hcing, but also of our becoming ; we feel our acting repelled internally ; there is even a limitation of our desire to act, and hence we assume freedom outside of us. (Mr. Schelling ex- presses this excellently in the Philosophical Journal, vol. iv. page 281 : " Wherever my moral power finds resistance, there cannot be mere nature. Shudderingly I stop. ' Here is nian ! ' speaks a voice to me. I mud not go further.") This can happen, as we have seen. If it does happen, I am still further limited than through mere Egohood ; for it was not involved in the conception of Egohood, as we have seen. If it does happen, I am no longer a mere rational being in general, which I could be if there existed only one other individual outside of me, and if he had only uttered himself 07icc ii^ relation to me ; but I am a particular rational being. It is this particular limited- THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 237 ness which cannot be d priori deduced from the general liniitedness, since in that case it were not a particular one. Upon it is based the purely empirical, which in its possibility, however, must also be grounded ä priori. Nevertheless this liniitedness is an original one. Let it not be supposed, therefore, that it originates in time. How, nevertheless, in a certain respect, it does arise in time, we shall immediately see. The result of the above proposition is this: Individuality may also in its progress be dctennined through something else than freedom, namely, tlirough original limitedness, which, however, cannot be deduced, but being a particular limitedness is in this respect accidental for us on the standpoint of experience. It truty be thus : With this, philosophy must content itself; and in treating a science which is influenced by this presupposition, pliilosophy must always establish the results derived from it as conditioned propositions. Such a science is the science of morality, and hence the material part of this science contains something con- ditioned. If we give up our claim to pure philosophy, and place ourselves on the standpoint of facts, we can, of course, say : it is so. For instance, I can and must not be and become everything, since there are others wlio are also free. But on the standpoint of pure j)hilosophy, this and others always remain conditioned propositions. Originally I am limited not merely formaliter through the Egohood, but likewise Tnatcrialiter through something which does not necessarily belong to Egohood. There are certain points beyond which I am not to go even with my freedom, and this non-shalling evinces itself in me immediately. I explain these points to me through the existence of other free beings and their free effects in my sensuous world. ^38 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. H. But this tlieory seems to have enveloped us in a contradiction, and led us to very dangerous results. [ will enter upon their discussion, partly to ]^roniole clearness, and partly because it decides a difiirult i»hiIo- sophical dispute, and places the doctrine of freedom, which is all-important in a science of morality, in the complete light. The free acts of otliera are originally to lie within me as the limitative points of my individuality. ' They are, therefore, to make use of this popular ex]>rcHsion, pre- destined from all eternity, and are not determined in time. But docs not this cancel my freedom ? By no means, if it is not at the same time predestined how I sliall react upon those free acts ; and the freedom of choice amongst all possible acts remains always mine, as we have fully established. But let us rise to a higher point. The other beings in the sensuous \v6rld, upon whom / act, are also rational beings, and the perception of my influence uj)on tiiem is predestined for ihcm, as for vie tlie perception of their influence upon me is predestined. For me, my acts are not predetermined, I perceiving them as the result of my absolute self-determination, but for all others, who live together with me, they are predetermined, and, in like manner, do their acts appear to them self-determined, and to me predetermined. Hence, my free actions are certainly predestined. But how can freedom co- exist with this ? The matter stands thus: predetermination cannot be dropped, for if we drop it, the reciprocal relation of rational beings, and hence, those rational beings them- selves, remain inexplicable ; but neither can we abandon freedom, for if we do, free or rational beings cease to be. The solution is not difHcult. For me (I shall say so at present, in order to be but able to express myself, althougli an important remark will have to be made respecting it), fur me, all the influences of free beings are a priori deter- THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 239 mined. But let lis recollect what a priori signifies. Ä 2)i'iori is no time and no succession, no one after another, but everything simultaneously (an improper but necessary expression). Hence, it is not at all determined liow I cause the events to follow eacli other in time, how I connect this scries with that otiier determined individual series, e^c. What I am to experience in my life is determined, but not from whom. The others outside of me remain free. In the same ]nanncr, it is certainly determined for others what infhienccs of other free beings are to be directed upo» them, and hence, likewise, those inÜuences which / have exerted upon them were predetermined; but it was not predestined, by any means, that /, the individual which had these and those original determina- tions, should exercise these influences. If another one exerted them before I did, I did not exert them, and if I did not exert them, perhaps another one exerted them after me, or if they exerted it in their own freedom, to be that which I am, no one exerted such influence upon them. Who am I then, after all ? We repeat again : I am only that which I make myself to be. I have now acted so or so far, and hence, I am the in- dividual to whom appertain the acts a, h, c, «fee. From c, again, an infinity of predestined acts stretch out before me, from which I can choose. The possibility and reality of all these acts is predestined, but, by no means, tliat precisely the one which I now choose should follow the series a, h, c, which constitutes now my individuality, and so on ad infinitum. There are first determined points of individuality, and from each of these there stretch out an infinity, and it depends altogether upon its own freedom which of all the still possible individuals it becomes. My assertion, therefore, is this : all free acts are pre- destined from all eternity, i.e., outside of all time, through reason, and each free individual is placed in harmony with 240 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. these acts in rcspoct to pcrccptioTi. For tlio totality of reason there extends an infinite manifold of freedom and jwrception, and all individuals shaie in it, as it were. ]5ut the succession and content of time is not predestined, from the .suflicient reason that time is not somethin;^ eternal and pure, Imt merely a form of the contemjdation of finite beings, namely, the time in which sometliing is to occur; neither are the actors predestined. And thus, by a little attention, the apparently unanswerable question has dissolved of its own accord : predetermination and freedom are completely united. The difficulties which might still seem to linger here .are based on the fundamental defect of dogmatism, which makes all being primary and original, and hence, sepa- rates being and acting — if it does recognize acting at all — altogether from each other, giving to an individual his whole being independently of his acting. By this pro- cedure, if one thinks determinedly enough, all freedom and all real acthig are certainly cancelled. Xo man in the world can act otherwise than he does act, altliough, perhaps, he acts badly, being the man he is. There is nothing truer than this proposition, which is, in fact, merely an identical proposition. But he ought not to be this man, and could be quite, another man; nay, iherb ought not to he such a man in the world at all. Nevertheless, it is said : that a person is such a person as it is even before it is born, that its relations and fate, from the day of its birth to its death, are pre- destined, only not its actions. But what is our fate, and what are our relations in life, otherwise than the objective view of our acting ? If our actions depend upon our freedom, surely so does our fate. I am only what I act. Now, if I think myself in time, I am, in a certain respect, not determined until I have acted in this respect. True, he who cannot cure himself of the fundamental evil of dogmatism cannot see into the theory of freedom. CHAPTEU III. AfiSOLUTE HARMONY OF ALL RATIONAL BEINGS AS . . CONDITION OF MORALITY. Self-sufficiency, our final end and aim, consists, as we have often said, in this, that everything is dependent upon me, and I not dependent upon anything; that in my whole sensuous world that which I will happens simply because I will it, precisely as is the case in my body, the beginning point of my absolute causality. The world must become for me, what my body is. True, this object is unattainable, but I shall always endeavour to approach it, and hence shall always treat everything in the sensuous world, so as to make it a means for this final end and aim. This approaching is my real end. It is no hindrance to my freedom, that I was set down upon a certain point by nature, and that nature thus, as it were, took the first step for me on this my way into infinity. Nor does it interfere with my freedom, that at the very commencement there was given to me a sphere for my possible path of freedom through anotlier rational being outside of me ; for only thus do I attain freedom, and before I have freedom my freedom cannot be interfered with. Nor does it hinder luy freedom, if I am forced to assume still other free and rational beings outside of me, for their freedom and rationality, as such, is not an oliject of perception, which miglit limit me, l)ut is altogether a spiritual conception. Finally it is no li '24t 242 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. curtailing of my freedom, if I miiHt ehoosc amongst many possible acts ; for such a choice is tlie condition of the consciousness of my freedom, and hence Conditions that freedom itself. Moreover, the matter of the choice is always under my control, because all possible free modes of acting are under my control ; and even if other free beings should then choose amongst those possible acts which I did not choose, this would not limit my self- sufficiency. They would not limit me, therel)y, but 7 them. If, however, in accordance with our last presupposition, and with general experience, that which falls within my path and into the world of my experience should already be modified through free beings outside of me; in that case my freedom is certainly checked, if I may no longer modify this object myself according to my pur- pose ; and we have seen that the moral law absolutely forbids my doing so. I am not to disturb the freedom of rational beings. But if I change the products of their freedom I disturb their freedom itself ; for those products are to them means for other purposes, and if I take away from them these means they cannot continue their causality in accordance with their first pur^^ose. Here we therefore seem to have hit upon a contradiction of the impulse of self-determination, and hence of the moral law with itself. The moral law requires (i) that I should subject whatsoever limits ; or, which is the same, whatsoever lies in my sensual world, to my absolute end and aim ; that I should make it a means to draw nearer to absolute self-sufficiency. (2) That I should not subject certain things, which limit me, or which are in my sensuous world, to my absolute end-purpose, but should leave them as I find them. Both are immediate commands of the moral law ; the first, when we consider this law generally ; and the second, when we consider it in a particular manifestation. THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 243 II. The contradiction can be solved, and tlic liarniony of tlie moral law with itself can be restored only, if we presuppose that all free beings have nccessarili/ the same final end and aim. If this is so, then the end of the one individual is at the same time the end of the other ; and the liberation of one from dependence the liberation of all others. Is this so ? Since everything — parti- cularly everything to us, namely, the peculiar char- acteristic of our science of morality — depends upon the answering of this question, we shall discuss it more thoroughly. The impulse to be self-sufficient is an impulse of Egohood, and has only Egohood for its end; the Ego alone is to be the subject of self-sufficiency. Now it is certainly, as we have seen, involved in Egohood, that each Ego should be an individual, but only an individual in general, and not this particular individual A, B, C, &c. Since all the determinations, except the original and first one of our individuality, depend upon our freedom, as we have seen that A, B, &c., can only signify to me the original limitation of freedom ; or, what we have called above, the root of all individuality. Hence since it is accidental to the Egohood in general, that 7, the individual A, am precisely this A, and since the impulse of self-sufficiency is to be an impulse of the Egohood in general, as such, this impulse certainly does not crave the self-sufficiency of the particular individual A, but of reason in general. The self-sufficiency of reason as such, is our ultimate purpose ; and hence not the self-sufficiency of our reason, in so far as it is an individual reason. But I, this A, am so far as I am concerned, only in 80 far as I am A. Hence A is my empirical self; and only it becomes conscious of that impulse and that law of consciousness. Only through A can I work in obedience to the moral law, since I can only work through A at all. 244 ■ TIfP- SCIENCE OE ETHICS. A is for me, the exclusive condition of the causality of this moral impulse. In one word, A is not ohj^d, but A is for me the only tool and vcldch of the moral law. At first only the hody was such tool, hut now it is the ivhoU sensuous empirically determined man ; and tlius we have here for once separated the empirical and the pure Ego in the strictest manner, which is very important for alf philosophy, and particularly for the science of morals. ■, ^t If the impulse of self-sufficiency craves the sclt- sufficiency of reason in general, and if this self- sufficiency can only be represented in the individuals A, B, C, &c., and through them; then it is necessarily altogether indifferent to me, whether A, or B, or C represents it; for, since all belong equally to the one undivided empire of reason, it is always reason in general which is represented, and hence my impulse is always satisfied. I desire morality in general ivithin or outside of me ; this is all the same. I desire it of myself only, in so far as it appertains to me and of others in so far as it belongs to them ; my end is attained equally in the one or the otlier manner. My end is attained, if the other acts morally. But he is free, and through freedom may also act immorally. In the latter case my end is not attained. Have I not then the right and the obligation to destroy the effect of his freedom? I do not appeal to the above negative pro- position, but deduce it here anew and thoroughly, since this is the proper place for doing so. Eeason is to be self-sufficient, but reason appeals with this demand to the determined individual B, C, &c., and there is no such demand at all. nor any (material) self-sufficiency m fact, except by means of the formal freedom of all mdividuals. Hence the latter is exclusive condition of all causality of reason in general. If it is cancelled, all causality, and hence also the causality to be self-sufficient, is canceUed. Hence everyone who wills the latter must also wül the THE MORA LIT Y OF OUR ACTIONS. 245 former. Freedom is absolute condition of all morality, and without it no morality is at all possiljle. Tlius the altsolute prohibition of the moral law becomes confirmed, tiiat the freedom of the free being must under no con- dition, and under no pretext, be disturbed or cancelled. But tins leaves the contradiction unsolved, and we can say also •■ 1 desire, and can only desire, that the other should be free, on condition that he uses his freedom to promote the end of reason, and otherwise I cannot desire him free at all. In other words, while the freedom of tile other must on no account be disturbed, I must absolutely desire to cancel any use made of freedom to cancel the moral law, and unless I do so desire, the wish that the moral law should reign supreme, is not controlling me. Here likewise there arises the further question : What exercise of freedom is in violation of the moral law, and who can be the universally valid judge thereof ? If the, other asserts that he has acted in accordance with his best conviction, whilst / act under the same circumstances differently, he is as convinced that / act immorally, as I am convinced that he acts immorally. Whose conviction is now to be the rule ? Neither, so long as both are in dispute, for each is to act solely according to his con- viction, and therein consists the formal condition of all morality. Can we then separate, and allow each the other to pursue his own course ? Absolutely not, unless we criminally renounce all our interest for universal morality and the supreme rule of reason. Hence we must endeavour to make our judgment agree. Of course, so iOng as each one acts at all conscientiously, each one will presuppose that his own opinion is the correct one, for otherwise he must have acted immorally in following it, and hence each one will endeavour to convince the other, and not to be convinced by the other. But in doing this, since all reason is the same, they must finally after all 'arrive at the same result; and until then it is the 246 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. absolute duty of each to respect the eternal freedom of the other. Plich can and must only desire to deter- mine the conviction of the otlier, hut not to physically influence him. The first modo is the only permitted way by which free beings may exercise compulsion upon free beings. We shall examine this matter more carefully. III. A. The final moral end of each rational being is, as we have seen, the self-sufhciency of reason in general, and hence the morality of all rational beings. We must all act in the same manner. Hence Kant's proposition: " Act in such a manner, that the maxim of your will can be thought by you as the principle of a universal legis- lation." Still the following is to be observed in regard to Kant's standpoint: Kant speaks only of the idea of a harmony, but not of a real, actual harmony. We shall show, on our part, that this idea has real use, tliat we must try to realize it, and must in part act as if it were realized. Moreover, in Kant's shape, the proposition is merely heuristic, i.e., I can use it very well for the purpose of examining whether I have erred in judging my duty; but on no account is it constitutive. It is, in fact, not a principle which Kant enunciates, but merely the result of a true principle, namely, of the absolute self-sufficiency of reason. The inference does not stand in Kant: because something can be principle of a universal legislation, therefore it ought to be maxim of my will ; but the very contrary, namely, because something is to be a maxim of my will, therefore it can also be the principle of a universal legislation. The judgment proceeds from me, as is indeed clear in Kant's proposition ; for who judges whether something can be principle of a universal legislation? Doubtless I myself. But according to what principles do I form this judgment ? Undoubtedly accord- THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 247 ing to those which my own reason holds. Kant's pro- position lias, however, a heuristic use, namely, a proposition, which results in an al)sur(lity, is false. Now it is absurd that I, X, ought to do tliat, wliicli I cannot think that all others ought likewise to do under the same circumstances ; and hence, if I cannot think this, I, X, ought certainly not to do it either, and have most certainly made a mistake in concluding that I ought to do it. B. Each one is to produce absolute harmony witli him- self in all others outside of him, for only on condition of this harmony is he himself free and independent. First of all, therefore, each one shall live in a community, for otherwise he cannot produce harmony with himself, as is absolutely commanded. Whosoever separates him- self from mankind, renounces his final end and aim, and liolds the extension of morality to be utterly indifferent. Whosoever wants to take care only of himself, even in a moral respect, docs not even take care of himself, for his end ought to be to take care of all mankind. His virtue is no virtue, but only perhaps a slavish merit-seeking egotism. It is not made our duty to seek or create our- selves society ; he, who was born in a desert, might perhaps remain there; but everyone who becomes ac- quainted with others is, through that very acquaintance, morally obliged to take care of them also. He becomes our neiglibour, and belongs to our world of reason, as the objects of our experience belong to our world of sense. Without becoming unconscientious we cannot abandon him. This does away at once with the opinion, whicli manifests itself amongst us yet in various ways, that the life of a recluse, a living apart from men, and indulgence in mere sublime thoughts and speculation, is enough for the requirement of duty, nay, is a more meritorious fulfilling of one's duty. Such conduct by no means satisfies duty. It is only through acting, and not through 248 TtlE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. speculating, only through acting iu and for society, that we fulfil duty. It likewise follows, that each one will only aim to convince the other, and not to allow liiniKclf to be convinced. This is in the nature of the case. He must be certain in himself, .or he would be uncon- scientious in not only acting himself according to his uncertain principles, but also trying to persuade others to do so. C. This final end and aim is not the exclusive charac- teristic of an individual, but is common to all. Each one shall have this same end, and it is the duty of each, as sure as he desires to promote universal moral culture, to induce each other one to make this his end. Tliis unites men; each only tries to convince the otlier of liis opinion, and yet becomes himself, peiliaps, convinced in this dispute. Each one must be ready to open himself to this reciprocal influence. Whosoever flies from it, perhaps lest he should be disturbed in his belief, betrays a want of self-conviction, which ought absolutely to have no existence; and which makes it, therefore, all the more his duty to enter into such discussion in order to attain this conviction. This reciprocity amongst all rational beings for the purpose of producing common practical convictions, is only possible in so far as all start from connnon principles, such as necessarily exist in order to connect their further convictions to these principles. Such a reciprocity, which each one is bound to enter, is called a Church, an ethical commonwealth; and that about which they all agree, is called their symlol. Each one ought to be member of the Church. But the symhol must, unless the Church community is to be utterly fruitless, be constantly changed; for that, concerning which all agree, will necessarily increase as the minds continue to influence each other more and more. (The symbols of some THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 249 Churches seem rather to contain that, concerning wliich all are at variance, and what not a single one believes in his heart, because not a single one can even think it.) D, The agreeing of all in the same practical convic- tions, and the uniformity of action resulting tlicrefrom, is therefore the necessary end of all virtuous men. We shall closely examine this important point, which is characteristic of our science, and which is doubtless exposed to many doubts. The Moral Law in me, as individual, has not me alone, but tmivcrsal reason for its object. It has me for its object solely in so far as I am one of the tools of its realization in the sensuous world. Hence all tliat it requires of me, as individual, and for which it holds me responsible, is that I shall become a fit tool. Con- cerning this culture of myself I am, therefore, referred solely to my own private convictions, and not to the common conviction. As individual, and as tool in relation to the Moral Law, I am possessed of a body and of understanding, I alone am responsible for their culture. The development of my understanding depends altogether upon my own conviction. I have absolute freedom of thinking. I must not deem it unconscientious, nor must the Church tell me it is unconscientious, to doubt everything, however holy it may appear, and to investi- gate it further. This investigation is absolute duty ; and it is a violation of duty to leave matters of tliis kind undecided. In regard to my body, I have absolute freedom to nourish, cultivate, and take care of it, as I may hope, according to my conviction, best to preserve it, keep it healthy, and make it a useful and good tool. It is not duty to act in this matter as others do; nay, it is immoral to let the preservation of my body depend upon the opinions of others without conviction of my own. 2 so THE SCIENCE OE ETI f /CS. That wliicli is oulHido of my l)ody, and lioncc tlie wliolo ficnsuons world, in coiinnoii to all laiional iRMiigH, and the cultivation thereof accordinp; to th*; dictates of reason, is not only assigned to nie, l)nt to (dl lational beings. I am not alone responsible for it, and in taking part in this cultivation must not proceed according to my private conviction, for I cannot inihience this sensuous world without influencing other rational beings, and hence without infringing upon their freedom, if my influence does not suit their own will. That, which affects all, I positively must not do without tlie consent of all, and hence in accordance with principles which all have approved, and which arc conformal)le to their common conviction. But from- this it would seem to follow, that if such a common conviction and harmony of all, concerning the manner in which each may influence the sensuous world, is impossible, all acting is impossible, which is contradictory to the Moral Law. Still it is also against that Law to act otlierwise than according to such universal harmony. Hence it must be an absolute command of Clie Moral Law to produce such a harmony. This agreement of all men, as to how each one may influence the other, that is to say, the agreement of all concerning their common rights in the sensuous world, is called the State, Constitution, and the commvinity of men which have established such an agreement, is called the State. It is absolute moral duty to unite with others into a State. Wliosoever refuses to do so, is not to be tolerated at all in society, because no one can conscientiously enter into relation with him; he having refused to declare his will and his rights, is thus always exposing others to the risk of treating him against his will and his rights. Since men, therefore, cannot act before a State is erected, and it, nevertheless, being diflicult to obtain the express agreement of all, or of only a considerable portion, to a constitution ; the more cultured man is THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 251 forced to take the silence of otliers to certain measures, and their suhniission to the same, for acquiescence. Nay. tliere will })robalily be at first many imperfections in tlie distribution of riglits, since some will not give their consent to a system of order \iidess they oljtain great advantages, while others will submit to all. In this manner arises, and has arisen, the compulsory need- state as the first condition of gradual progress to a legal and rational state. It is duty to submit un- conditionally to the laws of one's State, for these laws contain the presumptive common will, in violation of which no one has a right to influence the other. Each one attains moral permission to influence others only through their consent as expressed in the laws of a State. It is immoral to overthrow the State unless I am firmly convinced that the whole people desires such an over- throw, which can only be the case under circumstances we shall hereafter develop ; immoral to do so, even if I am convinced of the illegality and irrationality of the greatest number of its institutions, for in this matter I do not influence myself alone, but the whole commonwealth. My conviction, concerning the illegality of the constitu- tion, is, perhaps, very correct in itself, i.e., for pure reason, if we could obtain her in visible shape. Nevertheless, it is only my private conviction, but I must not act in matters relating to the whole commonwealth, according to my private conviction, as has been shown above. There is a contradiction here. I am inwardly convinced that the constitution is a violation of right and justice, and yet I help to maintain it, if only by my acquiescence. Nay, perhaps I even hold an office under this unrighteous constitution. Ought I not, at least, to resign the latter ? On the contrary, I ought to hold it and must not with- draw from the State, for it is better that the wise and just should govern than the unwise and unjust. "What Plato says about it is not correct; nay, contradictory. I am not allowed to withdraw from my country. Some 2J2 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. one says: "But I, at least, will commit no injustice!" But this is a selfish spirit. Will you then let others commit it? If you see that wrong-doings occur, you ought to prevent them. " But in that case I act against my letter conviction." But is it not likewise your correct and moral conviction that in matters of common concern you should act only in conformity to the common will ? Hence, it is no injustice at all to treat another as he has expressed his will to be treated in the law; and you only act according to your conviction, if you so treat him. You ask how may this contradiction be reconciled? Easily enough, if we will only look at the different kinds of conviction spoken of in both cases. You speak of the conviction of what shall he, of a condition to be produced ; whereas I speak of the conviction of an actuality to which I belong myself as member of the State. Both must be united, and can easily be united. I must regard the present condition of our need-state as a means to produce the rational state, and must always act only with this view. I must not take my measures so as to let things remain as they are, but rather so as to let them get better. An acting in the State, which has not this object in view, may be materialitcr legal enough, namely, in so far as it neverthe- less promotes that object ; but formaliter it is immoral. But an acting, which has the opposite object in view, is certainly both materialitcr and formaliter, evil and unconscientious. If some men have, for a certain lencrth of time, acted in accordance with these principles, it may well happen that the common will becomes utterly opposed to the government of the State, and whenever this takes place, the longer continuation of that govern- ment becomes illegal tyranny and oppression. The need- state tumbles down of itself, and a rational form of govern- ment takes its place. Each honest man, who has hit convinced himself of the common will, may then quietly take it upon his conscience to completely overthrow it. THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 253 (I append here a remark : Some men — I will not call them unconscientious, for tliis they must determine in their own conscience, but, at least, very stupid men — have, of late, raised a terrible cry, as if the belief in an unmeasured perfectil)ility were something very dangerous, very irrational, and the source of God only knows what wickedness. Let us set our investigation in the proper point of view, so as to put for ever a stop to this idle talk. Let us observe firstly, that it is not at all the next question, whether, from merely theoretical reasons, we must decide for or against this perfectibility. "We may put this question altogether aside. The infinitely ex- tending moral law commands absolutely to treat men as if they were, and always remained, capable of perfection, and positively prohibits treating them in a different manner. We cannot obey this command unless we believe in per- fectibility. Hence it is one of the first articles of faith, which we cannot doubt even without renouncing our whole moral nature. Hence, if it could be proven that the , human race, from the beginning of the world to the present day, has never progressed, but always retrogressed ; nay, even if, from the natural disposition of men, the mechanical law could be shown that they must necessarily retrograde (which is certainly far more than ever can be shown), we still ought not and could not give up that faith implanted ineradicably within us. Nor is there any contradiction in this, for this faith is based not upon natural disposition, but upon freedom. "What sort of people must there be, therefore, who would make us believe that it is foolishness to hold a faith which the moral law absolutely commands ? But this is certainly true, that nothing is more dangerous to the tyranny of despots and priests, and more calculated to shake their empire to itfj very foundations, than this faith. The only plausible reason which this tyranny can assign, and which it does not tire to plead, is that men can not be treated otherwise than it treats them ; that men 254 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. are as they are and must ever so 'remain, and that their whole position, therefore, must always remain as it is. E. We repeat: all, necessarily, as sure as tlieir destination is dear to them, are desirous to infuse their convictions into all others, and the union of all for tliis purpose is called the Ckurck. Mutual conviction, liowever, is possible only if the disagreeing parties proceed from sometliing wherein they agree ; for, otherwise, both neitlier understand nor influence each other. Both remain isolated, each one speaking his part to himself without the other hearing him. Now, where there are only two or tliree who are to explain mutually to each other their opinions, it must be easy enough to unite on one common point, since tiiey all occupy the same standpoint of common sense. (In the science of philosojihy, which is to rise to the standpoint of transcendental consciousness, this is not always possible ; and in it it is quite possible tliat philosophizing individuals do not agree on a single point.) But, according to our demand, each one is to influence all who probably diverge consideral)ly in their individual opinions. How is he to discover what they all agree upon ? Certainly not by going around and asking them. Hence, there must be something which can be pre- supposed and which may be regarded as the confession of faith of all, or as their symlol. It is involved in the conception of such a symbol, that it should be not particularly determined, but very general in its statement, for it is precisely concerning the further determination of it that individuals disagree. But tlie conception likewise involves that this symbol should be proper for all, even the least cultured, and hence that it should not consist of abstract propositions, but of sensuous representations thereof. The sensuous repre- sentation is merely the hull ; the conception is the real symbol. That precisely this representation was a matter THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 255 of necessity, since no common discussion was possible without an af^reement about something, and since it was not possible to make men agree about anything higher, they not yet being able to distinguish the hull, whicli the conception had accidentally revived amongst them, from the essence of the conception. In so far, indeed, every symljol is a symbol of necessity {Noth-Symbol), and will always remain so. I shall make this clearer through an example. The essential of every possible symbol is the proposition : there is something supcrsensual and elevated above all nature. Whosoever does not believe this in all serious- ness cannot be member of a Church, and is totally in- capable of all morality and moral culture. ]>ut what this supcrsensual, the true holy and sanctifying spirit, or the true moral way of thinking may be : tiiis is precisely what the Church seeks to determine, and to agree more and more upon, through reciprocal communication. Tliis is, for instance, likewise the purpose and content of our Christian Church symbol. But the same purpose had previously shaped itself already, as realized symbol in the sensuous world, and as confession of faith of an actual visible community amongst members of the Jewish nation, who had their own usages, modes of thinking, and images. It was very natural that they should shape that proposition according to these images. It was natural that they should have been able to communi- cate the supcrsensual to other nations, who, as nations — for we do not speak of their sages — were first elevated to a clear consciousness of the supcrsensual through the Jews, only in the same images in which they thought it themselves. Another author of a religion, j\Iohamed, gave to the same supcrsensual another form, more con- formable to his nation, and he did well to do so. Unhappily the nation of his faith met the misfortune of coming to a standstill from want of a learned public. Now what do these images say? Do they determine 256 TUR SCIENCE OF ETHICS. the snpcrsensnal in a universally valid manner ? By no means ; for what need were there otiierwiHe of a Church comnninity, which has no other object than further to (letcuininc the same ? As sure as this Church exists, and this Church exists as sure as man is finite but perfectil)le, so sure this supersensual is not deter- mined, but is to be determined, and througliout all eternity to be further determined. These enwrapping symbols are, therefore, solely the manner in which the Church community, under our presumption, gives ex- pression to the proposition : there is a supersensual. But since without agreement concerning something, tliere is not possible any reciprocal action for the production of common convictions, and since the latter as the condi- tioned, is absolutely commanded, so also is the condition. Hence it is absolute duty to fix at least something upon which at least the most agree, as symbol; or, in other words, to build up a visible Church community, as well as may be. Moreover, I cannot influence all without starting from what they all agree upon. But I shall influence them ; and hence I shall start from what they are all agreed upon, and not from what they are in dispute about. This is not merely a requirement of prudence, but it is conscientious duty. As sure as I will the end, I also will the only means. He who acts otherwise does not teach for the sake of moral culture, but perhaps in order to show off his learning, and makes himself a theoretical teacher, which is quite a different business. Let it be observed that I say : I shall start from it, as from something presupposed; but on no account: I shall try to arrive at it, as at something to be proven. And here, indeed, appears the objection which may be raised against this doctrine. For it, might be said : " Now if I am not convinced of the truth of those symbols from which I am to start, do I not then speak against my better conviction ; and how can I be allowed to do so ? " THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 2-^7 Dut what is it really which runs against your octter conviction ? I hope not the conception of a supersensual, which lies at its l)asis. Hence it can only be this manner of characterizing it as a fi^^xd determination. But who says that it is an actual determination ? You, for your person, determine the supersensual otherwise ; but you cannot, and ought not, to start from this your determina- tion, since it is held in dispute. You are to start from what they can all agree upon with you; and this is, presumptively, the Church symbol. To raise them to your conviction is your end and aim ; but it can be done only gradually, and by always remaining in accord with them from the first starting-point. You will always be teaching conformalily to your conviction so long as you regard in your heart the symbol as a means to raise them to your conviction, precisely as our actions in the necessity -state must be regarded as means to conduce to the rational state. It is ignorance to insist that this hull shall be a determinedness. But against one's con- viction to it, an object to keep others in this belief is immoral, and the true priestcraft, precisely as the en- deavour to retain man in the need-state, is the true and real despotism. The symbol is the point of connec- tion. It is not taught — to teach it is priestcraft — for we start from it in teaching : it is our common pre- supposition. If it were not necessary to presuppose it, or if there were a higher point, nearer to my convic- tion, from which to start, I should be more satisfied ; but since there is none other I can only make use of this. Hence it is the conscientious duty of everyone who has to work for the spreading of a common conviction amongst a Church, to treat the symbol as the basis of his teachings ; not inwardly to have faith in them. We have already shown the very contrary. The symbol is changeable, and is constantly to be changed through good and proper teachings. S 258 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. Let us remark here : this further pro^'resHion and tlni.s elevating of the symbol is precisely the Hj.irit of Pro- testantism, if this word has indeed any Hi;.'nilicance/it all The insisting upon the old, and the tending to bring universal reason to a standstill, is the spirit of Popery. The Protestant proceeds /7W?i the symbol into the inlinitc, Popery proceeds to the symbol as its ultimate. Who- soever does the latter is a Papist in form and spirit, even though the symbols which he proclaims as ultimates be genuinely Lutheran, Calvinistic, &c. F. I am not only allowed to have my private convictions respecting State government and Church system, but I am even in conscience bound to cultivate this my con- viction as much as I am able to do. But such a cultivation is possible — at least in the course of its progress — only through intercommunication with others. The ground is the following: There is absolutely no other criterion for the objective truth of my sensuous perceptions than the agreement of my experience with the experience of others. It is different — though not much — with respect to argument. I am a rational being only through being an individual. True, I argue according to universal laws of reason, but only through the powers of the individual. Xow, how can I be sure that the result has not been falsified through my individuality ? True, I assert and stand up for it that this is not so, likewise from a ground involved in my nature, But, nevertheless, the fact that I am, in the inmost depth of my soul, not quite sure of my matter, betrays itself in this : if one person after another, to whom I communicate my convictions, should reject it, I would not on tliat account immediately abandon my conviction, it is true, but I would at least become staggered and would investigate the subject again and again. How should I come to do so, if I had been before quite certain of the matter ? How could the other through his doubt, THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 259 influence, and conduct, if I were quite self-suflicicnt? On the other hand I ain confirmed in my conviction by the honest agreement of others with it. An agree- ing, when I cannot presuppose internal conviction, does not satisfy me ; a proof that it is not the ex- ternal mere agreeing to my views about which I care. On the contrary, it annoys me, because it makes me Buspect this, the only criterion left to me to confirm my conviction. Deep in my spirit, even though I do not become clearly conscious of it, lies this doubt, whether or not my individuality may not have influenced my con- viction. To remove this doubt the agreement of all is not necessary. The sincere agreement of a single person may suffice me, and actually suffices me, for this reason : my fear was, that my individuality might have been the ground of my conviction. This fear is removed as soon as but a single other person agrees with me : for it would be very curious, if such an agreement between two individuals should happen by chance. Nor is agreement concerning evcrythiwj neces- sary. If we are only agreed concerning the first principles, or respecting a certain view of matters, I may well bear it if the other cannot follow me in all the conclusions which I draw. For these are guaranteed by general logic, which no rational man will doubt being universally valid. Let us take, for instance, philosophy. It is a state of mind, so utterly contrary to nature, that the first man who rose to it surely did not trust himself, until he observed the same elevation in others. Thus it is only through interconnnunication that I attain certainty and security respecting my con- victions. But if my convictions were really universally rational, and hence universally valid, the particular representation thereof remains, after all, always indi- vidual. The dress in which I clothe them is the best only for me ; but even in me it would better tit the 26o THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. general and common conviction, as modified l)y all, if it had less of an individual form. Tliis it will obtain, if I communicate it to others, who enter ujton the subject and oppose their own reasons against it, and who, if the view is correct, tlirow off their individual mode of thinking. I correct my conviction, and tliereby make my own representation even more universally comprehen- sible for myself. The more extended this intercommu- nication is, the more does truth (objectively considered) gain, and 1 likewise. It is, therefore, exclusive condition of the further culti- vation of my particular convictions, that I shall be enabled to communicate them, and hence shall l)e allowed to start from them. But according to what we have said first, I am positively not to start in tlie Church community from my private conviction, but only from the common symbol, and so far as the State government is concerned, I am not only to obey its laws, but even, if it is the duty of my office, help to execute them. Hence, I am also not allowed to communicate my private convictions if tliey are opposed to the presupposed conviction of the people at large, because in doing so I would conspire to over- throw the State. But how am I then able to cultivate and correct my convictions through communication, since I am not allowed to communicate them ? When the conditioned is commanded, the condition also is commanded. The former cultivation of my con- viction is demanded of me, hence also its condition, communication. The communication of my private conviction is absolute duty. But we have just now seen that it is contrary to duty. How can this contradiction be solved T It is solved as soon as we observe, from what we have deduced the duty, to refrain from communicating private convictions re- specting Church affairs and State government. We deduce it from the presupposition that all had to bo THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 261 iiilliienced, and from the impossibility to obtain knowledge of their convictions by asking everyone. Hence if we had not to intlnence all, but a determined, limited number, the convictions whereof it were quite possible to become acquainted with, because tliey also could communicate their views, it would no longer be prohibited to make them known, and to start from them. The synthetic link of union of the contradiction would be such a society. The conception of such a society involves the following: It is to be partly limited and determined, and hence not to embrace all, but a certain number chosen from amongst all, and in so far separated from them ; and partly it is to represent and externally to realize the freedom which each one has for himself and for his own consciousness, to doubt everything, and to investigate everything freely. Such a society is a forum of a common consciousness, before wliich everything possible can be thought and investigated with absolutely unlimited freedom. As each one is free for himself, so is he free on this sphere. Finally — which indeed follows from what we have said heretofore — each meml)er of this society must have thrown off the fetters of the Churcli symbols, and of the legal conceptions sanctioned by tlie State; not precisely materialiter, for he may consider much of what Church or State holds as final and highest determination of truth ; but, at least, formaliter, e.g., he must not ascribe to these symbols or conceptions any authority, must not hold them as true and correct because the Church teaches them, or the State exercises tiiem. For it is the very purpose and spirit of this society to investigate beyond these limits, but whosoever holds them to be limits does not investigate beyond them, and is, therefore, not member of such a society. We called such a society the learned public, or scholars. It is the duty of each one, who raises himself to absolute unbelief in the authority of the common con- viction of his age, to establish such a public of scholars. 262 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. For havinpr repudiated that autliority, hucIi a man is without guidance. As sure as he thinks morally, it cannot be indifTerent to him whether he errs or not; but in respect to theoretical propositions, which always influence morality more or less, he can never attain perfect certainty, as we have shown above. Add to this, that it is his duty to communicate his convictions, and thus to make them of common use, but, at the same time, must not immediately communicate them to all. Hence lie must hunt up one of similar views, who like him has thrown off the belief in authority, and he cannot be quiet in his conscience until he has found this man, and has found in him a confirmation, and at the same time a means to deposit his convictions until he shall be enabled to make them useful to all. Others, who get into the same position, will find it their duty to join these two. They will soon' find each other, and through their union establish a public of scholars. It is moral duty, as appears from the above, to communicate to these scholars all new discoveries, all particular and dissenting convictions which lie beyond the sphere of common consciousness, and which each one may believe to entertain. The distinguishing characteristic of such a body is absolute freedom and independence in thinking, and the principle of its constitution is the rule to submit to positively no authority whatsoever, to base one's self in all matters purely upon one's own thinking, and to absolutely repudiate whatsoever is not confirmed by one's own thinking. The scholar distinguishes himself from the not-scholar in this ; the latter certainly believes also to have convinced himself through his own reflections, and he has, indeed, done so; but anyone who can look further, sees immediately, that his system concerning State and Church is the result of the current opinion of his age. All that he has himself convinced himself of is, that such are the opinions of his age ; his premises THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 263 are formed by his age, witliout his knowing it and witliout his co-operation ; tlie results he may, jierhaps, have drawn himself. The scholar, on the other hand, is well aware of this. Hence he looks for tlie premises in himself, establislies consciously, and from free resolves, his reason for himself as the representative of reason in general. For the republic of scliolars there exist no possible symbols, no prescribed direction, no withholding. The members of this republic must be allowed to discuss cvcrytliiiig, wlieroof they ))elieve they have convinced themselves, precisely as they dare to think it for themselves. Universities are schools for the learned. Hence in universities also it must be permitted to discuss every- thing whereof one is convinced ; and there is no symbol for a university. Those err greatly who recommend precaution, and hold that one ought not to say everything in the university rooms ; but first consider well, whether it may be useful, or hurtful, or liable to misrepresentation. Whosoever is unable to investigate for himself, and incapable of learning to do so, should bear the guilt on his own shoulders^ for having obtruded into uni- versities. It is not the business of the others, for they act according to their perfect right and duty. The discussion in universities is distinguished from the discussion in learned books in nothing but in the form of the method. As the scholarly investigations are absolutely free, so must also the attendance at, those discussions be free to ever}'one. Whoever can no longer in his heart believe in authority, acts criminally in further believing in it, and it is his moral duty to join the scholars. No earthly power has a right to command in matters of conscience, and it is immoral to deny to anyone, whose mind fits him for it, admittance to investigation. The State and Church must tolerate the scholars ; for, otherwise, they would try to compel conscience, and no 26; ' THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. one could any longer conacientiouHly live in sucli a Church or such a State ; for there would be no remedy for liiui if he should begin to doubt. Moreover, progress towards perfection would be impossible in such a State ; and yet it is possible. Hence Church and State must tolerate scholars, e.g., must tolerate tliat wliich constitutes their distinctive essence; absolute and uidiniited counnunication of thought. Everything, whereof each one believes to have convinced himself, must be an allowed subject of discussion, however dangerous and outrageous it may appear. For if anyone has entered upon errors, how are others to be prevented from straying into the same errors, if he is not permitted to communicate his errors ? I say : State and Church must tolerate scholarly culture as such. More indeed they cannot do for it, since both occupy utterly different spheres. The State as such cannot support or further scholarship as such ; this is only done through free investigation, and the State is not to investigate. Statesmen or State officials may, it is true, support scholarship as individuals; Ijut not the State. The republic of scholars is an absolute democracy, or more dcHnitely expressed, only the right of spiritual strength is valid in it. Each one does what he can do, and is in the right if he has the might to maintain this right. There is no other judge in it than time and the progress of culture. Teachers of religion and State officials are to work in the cause of the perfectibility of men, and hence they must be more advanced than the public at large, e.g., they must be scholars, and must have received a scholarly education. In so far tiie professional scholar is himself indirectly a State official, for he is the educator of tlie State's popular teachers and immediate officials. In so far alone can the scholar also receive a salary from and be under the supervision of the State. Of course the State cannot prescribe what he is to teach, for that were THE MORALITY OF OUR ACTIONS. 265 contradictory; but the State can see to it, that he do really communicate in the best manner wliat lie believes to know. Scholarly schools are not auch wherein the future profession of the common school-tciicher, or of the State official, is tauglit. True, these professions must also be taught, but to teach it constitutes quite another order of teaching. The State official and public school- teacher is to be not only a professional man, but also a scholar. Hence he is both, but it is his duty, according to the above principles, to separate both in liis conduct. When he is public teacher or official he is not scholar, and when he is scholar he is not the former. It is an oppression of conscience to prohibit tlie greater from communicating his dissenting convictions in scholarly writings ; but it is quite in order to prohibit him from preaching them in the pulpit; nay, if he is only well aware of what he does, he will himself know that it is immoral» to do so. The State and the Church have the right to prohibit this to the scholar, and to prevent him from realizing his convictions in the sensuous world. If he does so, if he, for instance, violates the laws of his State, he is justly punished, whatever he may tliink in himself about these laws ; nay, he will necessarily reprove himself, for he has done an immoral action. Thus the idea of a public of scholars alone solves the contradiction which occurs between an established Church and State, and the absolute freedom of con- science of each individual. Hence the realization of this Idea in the sensuous world is commanded by the Moral Law. G. In conclusion, we state, in as few words as possible, the total end of man in so far as he is considered as individual. The final end of all his working in society is : men shall all agree ; but all men agree only about the purely 266 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. rational, for it is that which is common to them all. Under the presupposition of sucli an a;^reonient tlie distinction between a learned and unlearned puljlic falls away, Church and State fall away. All have the same convictions, and the conviction of each is the conviction of all. The State falls away as a krjülatinfj and compulsorif power. The will of each is universal law in truth, because all others will the same, and no compulsion is needed, because each one wills of himself that whicli he ought to do. To this end, therefore, all our thinking,' and doing, and even our individual culture, ouj^ht to tend. Not we ourselves are the final end, but all are this end. Now if this end, although unattainable, were thought as attained, what would happen ? Each one would with all his individual power, and as well as he were able, modify nature for the use of reason, according to that common will. What each one did would thus be of equal advantage to all, and what all did would in reality turn to the advantage of each; since their end is the same in reality. It is so even now already; but only in Idea. Each one is to think in everything he does that it is for all ; and this is the very reason why he is not allowed to do many things, since he does nob know whether they will it also. But if this Idea were real, each one would be allowed to do everything he might will, since all would will the same. PART IL THE SCIENCE OF MORALS BOOK FIFTH. THE THEORY OF DUTIES. CHArTEK I. DECISION OF THE DOCTRINE OF DUTIES. A. We liave already indicated the definite separation between the purely rational of the rational l^eing and its individuality. The manifestation and representation of that pure reason in that being is the Moral Law, whereas the individuality is that through which each individual distinguishes himself from the others. The uniting link of both is this, that a rational being absolutely must be an individual, but not necessarily this or that indi- vidual ; which latter fact is purely accidental, and hence of empirical origin. The empirical is the will, the understanding (in the widest sense of the word, as equivalent to intelligence or general power of repre- sentation), and the hodij. The object of the :Moral Law, or that wherein it desires to have its end and aim represented, is absolutely nothing individual, liut Eeason in general; in a certain sense the Moral Law is its own end. This universal reason has been posited by me, as intelligence outside of me ; and the whole totality of rational beings outside of me is tlieir representation. Hence I have- posited universal reason outside of me, in virtue of the Moral Law, as theoretical principle. Now after this externalizing of pure reason has been •69 270 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. achieved in iiie, only the empirical or individual E^'o is to be called Ego, or I, in tlie Science of I^Iorals. Hence, wlienever I hereafter use the word Ego, it always signifies person. (Our Science of IMorals is therefore very important for our whole system, since in it is shown up liow the empirical Ego arises out of the purely genctical Ego, and how the pure Ego is finally altogetlicr externalized from the individual person. From the present point of view the representation of the pure Ego is the totality of rational beings, or the communion of saints.) How do I, as person, relate myself to the ^Moral Law ? It is to me that this law addresses itself, and to wliom it assigns its execution; Ijut its end lies outside of me. I am, therefore, for myself, or for my own consciousness, only the instrument, the tool of the j\Ioral Law, and not its end. Impelled by the ]\Ioral .Law I forget myself in acting, I am only a tool in its hand. Whosoever looks to an end sees not himself; but the end lies outside of me. As in every contemplation, so the sul)ject loses itself here, vanishing in the contemplated, and in its contemplated end. For me, i.e., for my consciousness, the Moral Law addresses itself not to other beings, but has them for its end. All others are, and only I alone am not, embraced in its end. For my conscious- ness all others are not means, not tools, but final end and aim. Let us remove some difficulties which might be opposed to this proposition. Each vian is himself end, says Kant with universal approval. This proposition of Kant agrees well enough with mine, if mine is only carried out further. For all the other rational beings, to whom the Moral Law addresses itself equally as to me, using them as .tools, liold me as a member of the communion of rational beings, and hence I am to them end, as they are end to me. To THE THEORY OF DUTIES. rj\ each r.ation.il bciT)g, all others outside of him arc end ; but no one is his own end. The point of view from which all individuals, without exception, are final end, lies hcyoiul all individual consciousnriss, and is the ])oint of view from which tlie conHciousness of all rational beings is united, as object, into One; hence the jioint of view of God. For God, each rational being is absolute and final end. But no, it is said, each one is to be end expressly for himself; and this also may be admitted. lie is end as a means to r^^alize reason. This is the final aim of its existence, since for this alone he exists; and if it were not for this he need not to exist at all. This does not lower, but rather elevates the dignity of man. To each one is assigned, for his consciousness, the task of attaining the universal end of reason. The whole community of rational beings becomes dependent upon his care and his labour ; and he alone is independent of everything. Each one becomes like God, so far as he can become so ; i.e., in respecting the freedom of all individuals. Each one, precisely because his whole in- dividuality is annihilated and destroyed, becomes a pure representative of the Moral Law in the sensuous world ; becomes true pure Ego through free will, and self-deter- mination. It has already been sufficiently observed above, that this forgetting of self occurs only in actual acting in the sensuous world. Those who place perfection in pious meditations, and in devout brooding over their self, and who expect from such practices the annihilation of their individuality, and a flowing together with God, are much in error. Their virtue is and remains egotism ; they want to make perfect only themselves. True virtue consists in acting, in acting for the totality, in which acting each forgets himself utterly. I shall be compelled •to recur frequently to this important point. 272 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. B. I can forfjct myself iii my lal)Onr only in so far as it stands unhindered, and as I am, iliercfore, truly means to accomplish the desired pnri)Ose. If it is checked, I am thcrel)y driven l)ack into myself and forced to retlect npon myself ; and I am in tliis manner made my own object by means of the resistance. The Moral Law addresses itself immediately to me, and makes me its object. I am to be means; but I am not means, because the check occurs; hence I am to make myself means. Let the condition here established be well remarked. In the moral state of mind, wherein I am to be always and uninterruptedly, I become object of reflection and of the commanded acting, solely in so far as I can not be means. The care for myself is conditioned by this, that I cannot carry out my end and aim outside of me. But when this condition occurs, then this care is duty. Thus there arises the conception of a duty — not exactly which I owe to myself, as is usually said ; for I always remain mere means for the end outside of me; but of a duty, which I must observe in regard to myself, of a moral acting, whereof I myself am the immediate object. I shall call these duties, therefore: not duties to ourselves, as is the usual phrase, but mediated and conditioned duties ; mediated because they have for their object the means of all our acting ; conditioned because they can only be deduced from the following proposition: If the INIoral Law desires the conditioned, the realization of the supreme rule of reason outside of me through me, it also desires the condition, namely, that I shall be fit and proper means for that purpose. Since for me there is no other means to realize the absolutely to be realized law of reason, than myself, there can be, strictly speaking, no other mediated duties than those towards myself. In opposition to them, the duties towards the Whole, as the highest and absolutely com- THE THEORY OF DUTIES. 273 niandod dutios, arc to be culled ivimcdiate and imconditioncd duties. C. There is still another division of the duties from the following reason. The command to promote the inde- pendence of reason, so far as possible, is addressed to each individual. Now if each one does in this respect that which first occurs to him, or which appears to him pre-eminently necessary, many things will be done in a manifold manner, and many things will not l)c done at all. The effects of the acts of many will check and cancel each other, and the steady promotion of the final end of reason will not be achieved. But the Moral Law requires that it shall be achieved. Hence it is the duty of each one, who perceives this hindrance (and each one, who will but look close, must perceive it), to remedy it. This remedy, however, can only be effected, if many individuals divide amongst themselves the various things that must be done to promote the final aim of reason, each one accepting a certain part for all others, and in his turn surrendering to all others his part. This can only be accomplished by an agreement, through the uniting of many for the purpose of such a division. It is the duty of each one, who perceives this, to establish such an agreement. An agreement of this kind is an agreement concerning the various vocations of all individuals. There must be various vocations ; and it is the duty of each individual to labour for their establishment, and to choose a fixed vocation for himself when they are established. Each one, who chooses a vocation, chooses a peculiar manner of promoting the final end of reason. Some labours of this kind can be transferred to others, but some can not ; that which cannot be transferred, is general duty. That, which can be transferred, is j^ccriicular duty of him to whom it is transferred. Hence there is, moreover, a distinction between general and particular T C74 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. duties, and combining this division with the previous one we shall have to speak : Of the general conditioned duties. Of the particular conditioned duties. Of the general unconditioned or absolute duties. Of the particular unconditioned or absolute duties. CHAPTER IL CONCERNING THE GENERAL CONDITIONED DUTIES. I AM tool of the Moral Law in the sensuous world. But I am tool in the sensuous world solely on condition of a continuous reciprocal causality between me and tlie world, the way and manner of which is to be deter- mined through my will ; and since we speak here chiefly of a causality upon the world of rational beings, on condition of a continuous reciprocal causality Ijetween me and them. (This proposition has been proven in my Science of Rights, and as I would have merely to repeat that proof here, I refer to it as the proof of what is averred here. Nor will this mere reference infringe upon the clearness and completeness of our present science, for what this postulated reciprocal causality may signify, will appear clearly enough.) If I am to be this tool of the Moral Law, then the condition under which alone I can be it, must take place ; and if I think myself as under the rule of the Moral Law, I find myself com- manded to realize this its condition ; namely, the continued reciprocal causality between myself and the world of both rational and sensuous beings, so far as it is in my power to do so ; for the Moral Law can never require the impossible. Hence all we have to do is to analyse this conception, and to relate the Moral Law to its several parts, in order to arrive at the general duty, whereof we ourselves are the immediate object, or at the general conditioned duties. This reciprocal relation is to be continuous ; the Moral Law commands oxxi preservation as members of a sensuous 975 276 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. world. In the SrAcnce of liifjhts, which knows nothing of a I\Ioral Law and its commands, but estaUislies only the will of a free bein^^ as determined through natural necessity, we furnished the proof of the necessity to will our continuance in the following manner: I will some- thing (X) signifies: the existence of this object shall be given to me in experience. But as sure as I vnll it, it is not so given in present experience, and is possible only in future. Hence, as sure as I will this expenence, I also will, that I, the experiencing I, shall exist as tlie same identical I in a future moment. From this point of view respecting my will, I will my continuance only for the sake of a satisfaction, which I expect in the future. The will of a free being, as determined through the Moral Law, has not this ground to will the continuance of the individual. Under the direction of this law, I do not care at all that something may be given to me in a future experience. Under it, X is to be absolutely without any reference to myself; it is to be utterly indifferent to me, whether / experience something or not, provided it only becomes actual in general, and provided I may presuppose that it will thus sometime become actual The above demand of the natural man, that the object be given to him, is always the demand of an enjoyment. But from the standpoint of morality, enjoyment, as such, is never end. If I were told with more absolute certainty, that which you intend is certainly going to be realized, but you will never participate in it ; anniliilation is awaiting you before it will be realized ; I would, never- theless, be forced to work with the same exertion for its realization. The attainment of my true end would be assured to me ; and the enjoyment thereof ought never to be my end. Hence the continuance of my life, and its consequent preservation, is not a duty to me for the sake of experiencing the realization of my end and aim. How then may it become my dut^ ? THE THEORY OF DUTIES. 277 Wliatsoever I may realize in the sensuous world is never tlie final end of morality, for that lies in the Infinitude, but only a means to draw nearer to this end. . Hence tlie first end of all my actions is a new acting in the future; but whoever is to act in the future must live in it; and if he is to act in pursuance of a plan traced out now already, he must be and remain the same as he now is : his future existence must regularly develop itself from the present. Inspired by moral sentiment, I consider myself solely as a tool of the Moral Law. Hence I have the will to continue, and to continue to exist solely for the sake of acting. It is for this reason that self-preservation is a duty. This duty of sdf- prcscrvation we now have to determine more closely. The preservation and regularly progressive development of the empirical self, which is regarded both as intelli- gence, or soul, and as body, is required. Hence both the health and regularly progressive development of soul and body considered in themselves, and the continuation of their unchecked mutual inÜuence upon each other, is object of the Moral Law. The requirement of the Moral Law in this respect is to be regarded, firstly, negatively, as a prohibition : Undertake nothing which, in your oion conscionsncss, might endanger the preservation of yourself in the stated meaning of the word ; and secondly, positively, as a command : Do what- ever aceording to your best conviction promotes this preser- vation of yourself I. The preservation and the well-being of our empirical self may be endangered, both internally, by checking the progress of natural development, and externally, through external force. So far as the former is con- cerned, our body is an organized product of nature, and its preservation is endangered, if checks are opposed to the regular progress of the organization. This would occur if the body were denied proper food through fasting, or, if the body were overfed through intemper- 278 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. nncc, or if an opposite direction were given to the whole tendency of nature to preserve the macliine, through unchastity. All these dissipations arc in violation of tlie duty of self-preservation, more specially in re^'ard to the hody. They disturb the development of the mind, the welfare whereof depends upon the well-bein;; of the Ijody. ]<\xstincr weakens and makes drowsy the body, in temper- ance, gluttony, and, above all, unchastity, sinks the body deep into matter, and takes away from it the ability to elevate itself. The development of the mind is directly disturbed through its inactivity ; for the mind is a power, which can be developed only through practice. It is likewise disturbed through too much exertion, with neglect of the l)ody, since it is the body which must support the mind. Likewise through an irregular occupation of the mind ; as a blind indulging in irregular fancies, a mere memorizing of the thoughts of others without my own judgment ; or a dry puzzling of the brain without living contemplation. The whole mind must be cultured in all directions, Ijut on no account one-sidedly. One-sided culture is no culture, but rather suppression of the mind. All that we have here mentioned is not merely imprudent and unwise {i.e., opposed to some arbitrary end), but is opposed to the absolute final end and aim of reason. It is absolutely immoral, for all who attain an insight into the end of their empirical existence, and this iusigiit all ought to acquire. So far as the latter is concerned, namely, danger from external causes, the prohibition of the moral law is as follows: do not unnecessarily endanger your health, body, and life. Exposition to such danger is unnecessary whenever the moral law does not require it. When that law does require it, I am absolutely obliged to do so, no matter how great the danger and risk may be ; for it is my absolute end to do what duty requires, and my self- preservation is only a means for this end. How such a command of duty to risk one's self-preservation may THE THEORY OE DUTIES. 279 arise, this is not the i)ropcr place to exjilain. We shall ttake up the subject on this point in the doctrine con- cerning absolute duties. The investigation concerning the morality of suicide, belongs, however, to the subject in the present place ; and we shall settle it now. I am not unnecessarily, ix., not without the command of duty, to endanger my life ; it must, therefore, be still more prohibited' to destroy my life with my own jjower, and intentionally. Somebody nn'ght add, however: " Unless, indeed, duty requires such self-destruction of one's own life ; as it certainly docs require, according to your own presupposition, the exposure of one's life to danger ! " Hence the thorough solution of our problem rests on the answering of the following question : Is it possible that duty can ever require me to kill myself ? Let us first observe the great difterence between a requirement of duty to endanger one's life, and one to take away that life. The first command only requires me to forget myself, not to esteem my self-preservation as anything to counter! )alancc duty. Moreover, the absolutely commanded action, in which I am to forget myself, is directed upon something outside of me. Hence there is no immediate command : endanger thyself ! but only a mediated and conditioned command : do that which might endanger thyself ! But an act of suicide would immediately touch myself, and hence must be based upon an immediate and unconditioned command. We shall see at once whether such is possible. The decision rests upon the following : My life is the exclusive condition of the realization of the law through me. Now the command is addressed to me absolutely : to realize the law. Hence I am absolutely commanded to live, so far as this depends upon me. To destroy my life by my own hands is directly contradictory of this ; and hence is immoral. I cannot destroy my own life at all without withdrawing myself, so far as I am concerned, from the rule of the moral law ; but this that law can 28o THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. never command, because it would in doin^ so contradict itself. If I am influenced by the moral law — and this I ouf];ht to be and must be considered as bcin;^', wlien ]iiy actions are judged of — then I will to live solely to do my duty. I will not live any longer, would, therefore signify : I will no longer do my duty. An objection could only be raised against the major of this syllogism. It might be said: IJut this present earthly life of ours, of which alone we are speaking, is for me not the only exclusive condition of my duty. I believe in a life after death, and hence, by killing myself, do not end my life in general, and thus do not withdraw myself from the rule of the moral law; I only cliange the manner of my life; proceed only from one place to another, as I often do, and am allowed to do, ia this earthly life. In replying to this objection, I shall adopt the simile, and ask : Does then the moral law permit you arbitrarily to change your position or place on earth, as if it were the same whether you did or did not do so ; or is such a step not rather always either your duty or against your duty ? Clearly the latter, for according to all our previous proofs the moral law leaves no play- ground for arbitrariness. Under its rule there are no indifferent actions at all; in each position of your life each act is either moral or immoral. Hence you will have to show up not merely a permission of that law to leave this life and pass into another one, but an explicit command. That this. is impossil)lc can, however, be strictly proven. For the moral law does never im- mediately command me to live for the sake of life, neither in this life, which alone I know, nor in any other possible life ; but the immediate object of its command is always a determined action ; and since I cannot act with- out living, it always commands me to live, (Considered as a natv,ral agent I loill to live not for the sake of life but for the sake of some determination of life ; considered as moral agent, / shall will to live not for the sake of Hfe, THE THEORY OF DUTIES. 281 but of an action for whicli I need life.) Hcnco tlie transition to another life could not be commanded of me in an innncdiate, but only in a mediate manner, through the command of a determined act, which would tran.spire in another life. In other words : I could only be permitted to leave this life — and since there are no actions merely permitted, it can never be my duty to leave tliis life — unless I had a determined action to undertake in the life hereafter. This,' however, no rational being will be willing to assert. For we are forced by the laws of thinking to determine our duties througli what is already known to us ; and the state of life beyond the present is utterly unknown to us, and all our cognisable duties transpire in the present life. The moral law, therefore, far from referring me to another life, demands always, and in every hour of my present life, that I continue it, for in every such hour there is something for me to do, and the sphere, wherein I am to do it, is the present world. Hence it is not only actual suicide, but even the desire to live no longer, which is immoral, for such a desire is a wish to work no longer in the manner in wliich alone we can think our work ; it is an inclination utterly opposed to a moral mode of thinking, it is a tiredness and a weary disgustedness, which a moral man should never allow to move him. If the wish to leave this world signifies the mere readiness to leave life as soon as the ruler of the world, in whom we believe on this standpoint, shall so order, it is altogether a just wish, inseparable from a moral character, for life has no value in itself to such a character. But if it signifies an inclination to die, and to come into connection with beings of another world, then such a desire becomes an unwholesome indul- gence, which paints and determines the future world in advance. But such a determining has no basis, and the data for it can only be imaginary. Moreover, it is immoral, for how can a truly moral character have time 282 THE SCIENCE OE ETHICS. left for viRJonary meditations? True virtue clnos every hour wliolly what it has to do in that hour, and leaves all the rest to the care of Iiini, whose care it is. To convince himself of the correctness of these views, let the reader examine all possible grounds of an act of suicide. The first motive, of which instances are said to have occurred, is a despair to get rid of and conquer certain vices, which have become a habit, and almost our own second nature. But this* very dcsjjair is an immoral feeling. If you only have the true will, there is no difliculty about the canning. What, indeed, could have compulsory power over our will ? Or what could put the power wherewith we sin, in motion, except our will ? Hence in this case the confession is clear that the suicide does not will his duty. He cannot tolerate life without vice, and rather would compromise with virtue by the easier means of death, than conform to its requirement of a guiltless life. Another possible motive is that a person should kill himself to escape suffering something infamous and vicious, becoming thus the object of 'another's vices, but in this case he does not kill himself to escape vice, for if he only suffers in the matter, i.e., if he cannot resist with the exertion of all his physical forces, that which he is made to undergo, then it is not any crime of his. He only escapes through death the injustice, violence, or divSgrace, inflicted upon him, but not sm, since he does not commit any sin himself. He kills himself, because an enjoyment is taken away from him, without which he cannot tolerate life. But in that case he has not denied himself, and has not, as he ought to have done, sacrificed all other considerations to virtue. Some men have accused suicides of cowardice, others have celebrated their courage. Both parties are in the right, as is usually the case in disputes of rational men. The matter has two sides, and both parties have only looked each at one. It is necessary to consider it from THE THEORY OF DUTIES. 283 l)olli sides, for injustice must not be done even to what is most horrible, since thercl)y only contradiction is excited. The resolve to die is the purest representation of tlie superiority of thought over nature. In nature lies the ini})ulse to preserve itself, and the resolve to die is the exact opposite of this impulse. Each suicide, committed with cool considerateness — the most of suicides are com- mitted in a fit of senselessness, and concerning such a condition nothing can rationally be said — is an illustra- tion of this superiority, a proof of great strength of soul, and necessarily excites esteem, when reviewed from this side. It proceeds from the above-described blind impulse to be absolutely self-determined, and is only met with in an energetic character. Courage is resoluteness to meet an unknown future. Now, since the suicide annihilates all future for himself, we cannot ascribe true courage to him, unless indeed he assumes a life after death, and goes to meet this life with the firm resolve to fight or bear whatsoever that life shall have in store for him. But whatever strength of soul it may require to resolve to die, it requires far more courage to bear a life whicli can only have sorrow in store for us hereafter, which we esteem as worth nothing in itself, even though it could l)e made the most joyous life, and to bear it nevertheless merely so as not to do anything unworthy of ourself. If in the first instance we have superiority of the conception over nature, we have here superiority of the conception itself over the conception : autonomy and alisolute independence of thought. Whatsoever lies outside of the thought lies outside of myself, and is indifferent to me. If the former is the triumph of thought, this is the triumph of its law, the purest representation of morality ; for nothing higher can be asked of man than that he should continue to bear a life which has grown to be insupportable to him. This courage the suicide lacks, and in so far he can be called cowardly. In comparison with the virtuous man he is a coward ; but in comparison 284 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. with the wicked, who suhmits to (Hsgrace and slavery merely so as to continue for a few more years the wretched feeling of his existence, he is a licro. 2. The requirement of the moral law, wliicli relates to our self, has also, as we have seen, a posüive cliaraeter. In so far it requires of us that we should nourish our body, and promote its health and well-being in all possible manner — of course for no other purpose than to live aiid make it an able tool for the promotion of the great final end of reason. Moreover, if I am to nourish my Ijody and promote its welfare, I must be in possession of the means to do so. Hence I must take care of my posses- sions, be economical, and regulate my monetary affairs with prudence and order. It is not merely advisable and prudent to do so, but duty. He who, from a fault of his own, cannot provide his own means of living, is guilty. But the requirement is also addressed to the well-being of our mind, and in so far it is positive duty to occupy the mind continually but regularly, of course so far as the particular duties of each permit him to do so. To this belong oesthetical enjoyments and tlie fine arts, the moderate and proper use whereof cheers body and soul, and strengthens them for new exertions. In regard to the uninterrupted mutual influence of body and soul upon each other, we can do nothing directly. If each is only properly taken care of by itself, this mutual iutiueuce will result of itself. Kemark. All the above duties are only, as we have said, con- .ditioued duties. My empirical self is only a means for the attainment of the end and aim of reason, and is to be preserved and cultivated only as such means, and in 80 far as it can be such means. Hence, if its preservation conflicts with this end, it must be abandoned. For me, for the forum of my conscience, nothing is opposed to the end of reason except my acting adverse to THE THEORY OE DUTIES. 285 an unconditioned duty. Hence, tlie only case wherein 1 can give up .self-preservation, is when I can retain life only through the violation of such a duty. I must not do anytliing immoral for the sake of life, since life is an end only for the sake of duty, and since the accomplish- ment of duty is the final end of reason. It might be, and sometimes is, o])jected: "But how if, by making just this once an exception from the severity of the law, I can save my life, and tlius preserve myself for tlie future achievement of nnich good which otherwise would be left undone ?" This is the same pretext whicii is made use of to defend the evil, for the good which is to result from it. But those who urge this oljjection forget that the choice of the good works which we would like to do, and of others which we would like to leave undone, is not left to our discretion. Each person is absolutely bound to do that, and notliing else, which his position, heart, and insight command him to do; and must leave undone wliat they forbid him to do. Now, if the moral law takes away from me its permission for me to live, before I can achieve certain future good actions, then those actions are assuredly not for me to achieve, for I shall no longer exist, at least under tlie conditions of this sensuous world. Nay, it is in itself clear enough, that to him who commits immoral acts for the sake of preserving his life, does not hold duty in general, nor the particular duties which he desires to do hereafter, to be the alisolute final end of reason; for, if duty alone were his end, if only the moral law ruled him, it would be impossible for him to act in violation of it, just as it is impossible for the moral law to contradict itself. It was life which was his final end and aim, and the pretext that he desired yet to accomplish good works hereafter, he has only invented afterwards, to excuse himself. But on the other hand, T must also not consider and permit my death as a means for a good end. It is my life, and not my death, which is means. I am tool of the law as active principle, not 286 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. means thereof as a thing. We have already shown, in this respect, that I must not kill myself — as, for instance, the suicide of Lucretia might he considered as a means to liherate Rome — hut neither must I voluntarily permit my death if I can prevent it. Still less must 1 seek the ■ opportunity to die, or excite others to kill jne, as is told of Codrus, though I might helieve that tlie salvation of the world would result therefrom. Such conduct is always a kind of suicide. Let the distinction he well ohserved. I am not only permitted, but commanded, to expose my life to danger whenever duty requires it ; tliat is to say, I must forget the care for my self-preservation. But I must absolutely never think my death as an end and aim. CHAPTER III. CONCERNING THE PARTICULAR CONDITIONED DUTIES. The particular duties arc the duties of the vocation, as has been stated above, when we deduced the necessity of vocations. The particular conditioned duties are those duties which have our empirical self for object, in so far as we belong to this or that particular vocation. In regard to tliese duties, it is to be observed : 1. Wherever particular vocations have been established, it is absolute duty of every individual to have a vocation, i.e., to promote, in a particular manner, the final end of reason. This we prove as follows : If no vocations were established, it would be the duty of each who comprehended the necessity of establishing them as the exclusive condition of a complete and regu- lar promotion of the end of reason, to establish them. Hence, it is still more duty to choose a particular vocation where they have already been established, since, where this has been done, no one can do any general work without doing what others have already undertaken to do, and thus, without either hindering them and opposing the promotion of the final end of reason, or, at least, doing something superfluous and idle, which is equally immoral. Hence, he must select a particular vocation, and make this choice known to his fellow-men in a universally valid manner. 2. It is duty to select a vocation, not according to inclination, but according to the best conviction that it is fittest for one's powers, culture, and other external con- ditions. For the end of our life is not to satisfy our 287 288 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. inclination, Vnit to promote the end of reason. Each force in the sensuous world is to be used for this end in the most advantageous maniier. It might be objected: " But the fewest men choose their own vocation, Init have it selected for them by their parents, circumstances, &c., or, if they do select them themselves, they do so in advance of the proper maturity of reason, and before they are disposed to serious meditation and susceptiljle to the moral law," I reply, that this sliould not be so, and that each one who sees that it should not be so ou * 302 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. At tlie Bunio time we shall here reply to two other questions which force themselves upon us on tljis occasion. Firstly: how conies it that so many men, who wish to pass for honest and not unreasonable men, defend " necessary lies," and seek up all possible arguments to gloss them over ? It comes from this. In our age, tlie men who form their minds and their natural character in accordance with that age, are placed by this sort of culture — which, however, is not the culture through freedom — upon that standpoint which we have described more particularly above. Their empirical Ego is to rule the world without regard to the freedom of others ; they want to make happy, protect, and beatify this workl according to their individual conceptions of happiness, beatitude, and misery. This is their chief aim. But with the weakness which our age is not unjustly charged with, in their character they lack the strength of resolu- tion to realize their arbitrary ends by force, and hence they conclude to realize them through cunning, which necessarily leads to the so-called white lies. This, their internal mode of thinking, of course determines also their theoretical system, unless they are philosophers capable of starting from the absolutely highest principles. They start from the facts within them, from their impulse to lay down the law, and their lack of courage to do so by force, and from the basis of these facts they proceed logically enough. Why, nevertheless, some of them, when it comes to carrying the theory into action, depart from it, is explained by this : something else which lies also as a fact in them, but too deeply to influence their arguing ; namely, their feeling of honour prevents them from making use of their theory. Secondly : whence comes that internal shame for one's self, which manifests itself even stronger in the case of a lie than in the case of any other violation of conscience? The ground is as follows: The liar has THE THEORY OF DUTIES. 303 the mode of thitikin;^ jibove described. He wanlB to subject the otlicr to his views and purposes. He does this by again deceivini^ly and for appearance'« sake subjecting himself to the purposes of the otlicr, Ity seemingly entering into the other's plans, approving his views, and pretending to promote them. He thus places himself in contradiction with himself, subjects himself to the man whom he does not trust himself openly to resist, and is a coward. The lie is always and in every case accompanied by cowardice. But nothing so much dishonours us before ourselves as want of courage. As for the rest, the defence of " white lies," or, indeed, of lies in general, no matter for what good purpose, is, doubtless, the most absurd and, at the same time, the most wicked arguing ever heard amongst men. It is the most absurd. You tell me you have convinced yourself that necessary lies are permitted. If I am to beheve you, I must at the same time also not believe you ; for I cannot know whether in saying so you are not prompted by some laudable purpose or another — for who can know all your purposes ? — and that you do not make use of your own maxim against me, and wliether your assurance, that you consider necessary lies allowable, is not itself a necessary lie. A person who really had such a maxim could neither desire to confess it, nor to make it the maxim of anyone else ; but only to carefully guard it for himself. For this maxim, by being communicated, annihilates itself. Of whomsoever it is known that he possess it, rationally no trust can be any more entertained by any man ; for no one can know that man's secret purposes, and judge whether he is not at the moment telling a necessary lie. But when no one has any longer confidence in him, he can no longer deceive anyone by lies. Now it is doubtless absurdity to demand belief in a maxim which, 'when believed in, cancels itself. But tlie defence of necessary lies is also the most 304 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. wicked argument possiljlo amongst men, for the defender thereby discovers his thorouglily corrupted mode of thinking. The true seat of your wickedness is precisely that you could hut think of a lie as a possible means of escape in certain difficulties, .and that you can now consult whether it may not be allowable so to use it. Naturally there is no impulse in man to tell a lie; nature goes straightway towards enjoyment, and a moral mode of thinking knows not lying ; to think a lie it needs a positive evil, an intentional lookinr/-out for some crooked road, because we do not like to go the straight one before us. An honest man does not even think of such a means of escape, and if all men were honest, neither the conception of a lie would have entered into the system of human conceptions, nor an investigation concerning the morality of necessary lies in the Science of Morals. The customary illustration of the scliools can explain our thoughts. A man, pursued by his enemy with drawn sword, conceals himself in your presence. His enemy arrives and asks you, where he is. If you tell the truth an innocent person is murdered; hence, con- clude some, you must lie about it. How do those, who conclude thus, get over so many possible means which the straight way before them holds up to them, into the crooked path ? Firstly : why are you obliged to tell the questioner cither the truth or the liel Why not the third, which lies between, that you owe him no answer, that he seems to have an evil intention, that you advise him to desist from it kindly, and that, if he will not do so, you are resolved to take the ^mrt of the persecuted, - and to defend him at the risk of your own life, which latter is, after all, only your absolute duty? "But," you reply, "if I do so all his rage will turn against me ! " I pray you, how does it happen, that you only consider this case as possible, whereas the second case, that your opponent, struck by the justice and THE THJtORY OF DUTIES. 305 boldness of your rosistmice, may desisb from the perse- cution of his enemy, may cool off and become tractable, docs also belong amongst the ])08sibilitics ? But let us assume even that he does attack yourself. Why do you absolutely wish to avoid that? It is anyhow your duty to defend the persecuted man at the risk of your own life, for as soon as human life is in danger you have no longer a right to think of the safety of your own life. This fact alone is enough to show that the first object of your lie was not to save the life of your neighbour, but merely to escape yourself with a whole skin ; and, moreover, in a case where your danger was not even real, but merely one of several possibilities. Hence you resolved to lie merely to escape the remote possibility of coming to grief! Therefore, let him attack you! Does then this mere attack of itself overwhelm you, as you seem again to assume without regard to all possible other cases ? He who was first persecuted has, as we have assumed, con- cealed himself within your proximity. At present you are in danger, and it is now his general duty, and, moreover, his particular duty as a matter of gratitude, to come to your assistance. Where do you get the decided presupposition that he will not do so ? But supposing he does not come to your assistance. In that case you have gained time for assistance, and others may happen to come to your assistance. But even assuming that all this should not occur, how can you be so very sure that you will be defeated ? Do you then count as nothing the power which fixed resolve to sufier no injustice, and the enthusiasm for your good cause, must infuse into your body ? nor the weakness wherewith confusion and consciousness of his injustice must over- whelm your opponent ? In the worst case you can die ; and after you are dead you are no longer obliged to protect the life of the attacked; not to mention that death saves you from the danger of a lie. Hence death precedes the lie, and a lie is never to be spoken. You X • 3o6 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. cninmence with the lie because you have an eye only for the crooked path, and the straight path does not even exist for you. 5. The proposition, that the correctness of the cog- nition of others must be our end and aim, wlien ai)plied positively, results in the command to promote the correct insight of others, and to actually communicate to them the truth, which we know. We only need to point out the ground of this command in order to see at once how far it extends, since it may be well foreseen that it can be valid only within limits. I am obliged to regard the other as a tool of the ]\Ioral Law. But a result corresponding to his conception can follow only in so far as he has a correct cognition of the object of his action. I am bound to promote his causality, and hence I am bound to communicate correct knowledge to him, even without his request. To do so is, indeed, necessary end for me in myself. But in how far? Of course, in so far as his cognition has immediate influence upon his acting, or in so far as it is immediately practical to him. Hence a distinction should be made between immediate practical cognitions and purely theoretical cog- nitions. But all theory relates to practice, as a thorough transcendental philosophy shows, and a theory is not at all possible without such relations. Hence the distinction first made is altogether relative. Certain things may be purely theoretical for one individual and for one age, which for another individual or for another age is prac- tical. Hence, to know what truth we owe to an indi- vidual, we must first be able to determine what truth is practical for such individual. How is this possible for us ? It follows immediately from the acting of each indi- vidual. The knowledge of the object of his acting is immediately practical to him, and nothing else. Hence, if I see my fellow-man act, and have reason to assume that he is not well cognizant of the state of circumstances respecting such act, or if I know for certain that he has THE THEORY OF DUTIES. 307 an incorrect view of the same, it bei;omes my duty, without further ado, or without awaiting his rer^uest, to dispel his error; for he is in a sort of danger to do something which will not achieve his purpose, and it ih not indifferent to a moral mode of thinking whether this occurs or not. I cannot morally permit him to remain in error. I have always spoken of immediate practical truth, and have presupposed that it is precisely because I happen to be the tirst and nearest, why it should be my duty to communicate it. It is, of course, not to be understood here, as has already been remarked in regard to another duty, that we should hunt up opportunities to lead erring men into the riglit path. To do this we have not time, if we always do what first occurs to us ; and our virtue should, moreover, be natural — should always do what it is requested to do, and not, perhaps, go in search of adventures, for this is no truly virtuovs sentiment. To hunt up and make known truth, which is merely theoretical, either for the age in general or for most of the individuals of that age, is the duty of a particular vocation — of the vocation of a scholar. This theoretical truth is to become practical, but cannot become so immediately and all at once, for on the way to the perfectibility of the human race no step can be leaped over. This class of scholars works for the future ages, and stores up, as it were, treasures which can only be made use of in those future ages. Of the duties of these scholars we shall speak hereafter. 3. The formal freedom of an individual involves, as we have seen (i), the absolute freedom of the body, and (2) the continuation of its free influence upon the whole sensuous world. The latter causality we have just seen to be conditioned by correctness of cognition, which gave us the moral duties, negatively, not to lie; positively, to correct errors of practical cognition. But the latter causality has yet another condition. 3o8 TlfE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. If tlio rational ])(!ing is to be free in its causality, ix., if the causality is to result in that which the rational being had intended, then the state of all that, Avhich has reference to and which influences this causality, must continue to remain precisely as it was known to be and calculated upon in the purpose and intention of the rational being. For if it ciiangcs during the act of the individual, then the effect of that act also changes, and the result is not as had been intended. (For further proof of this, in itself, very evident proposition, I refer to my Science of liifjhts.) That, which thus relates to my acting, and which is, as it were, the premise of all my acting in the sensuous world, can only be as part of that sensuous world, if I live amongst other free beings. This determined part of the world, thus subjected to my purpose and intentions, is called, when recognized and guaranteed by society (and this recognition and guarantee is legally and morally necessary), my property. Without such recognition I could never be sure that my acting did not limit the freedom of others, and hence I could never act with good conscience. Only on the condition, that all recognize and guarantee for me a sphere for my free acting, and thus assure me that my acting within such sphere will not disturb their freedom, can I, with good conscience, act at all. This recognition occurs immediately through the state wherein I live. How it occurs mediately from the whole human race, has been shown in my Science of Eiyhts. It is, therefore, firstly, the duty of everyone, who has reached this insight, to introduce right of property, which indeed does not come of itself, but must be introduced intentionally, and according to a fixed conception. It is, moreover, the duty of each to acquire property, for it is his duty to act with freedom ; and this he cannot do, because he is not sure whether he may not disturb the freedom of others, unless he has property. This we say here preliminarily, as a closer determination of the pro- THE THEORY OF DUTIES. 309 position already cstablislicd, tliat a state imist be erected, and that each individual must become a member of il. The freedom of each individual is to me an absolute end, commanded l»y the moral law. This freedom is conditioned by his having property and retaining it inviolable. Hence the latter, as the condition of my end, is also itself sucli end. a. Tliis disposition of tbe moral law, regarded negatively, results in the prohibition : never to injure or diminish %n any manner anyone s property, nor to render more di'ßcuU its utility to the proprietor. Firstly : I must not use his property for my own purposes, through robbery, theft, cheating, cunning, or overreaching — all of which acts are, indeed, prohibited for the very sake of their forms; the former, because they involve an attack upon the body and life of the other, and the latter because they presuppose falseness and lying. But at present we look merely to the content of these acts, namely, that they constitute a deprivation of the other's property. They are prohibited, because they interfere with the freedom of the person thus deprived of his property. He has calculated upon its continued i^ossession, and has taken his measures accord- ingly. If he is deprived of it altogether, his sphere of causality and the measure of his physical power is diminished ; if he has to acquire it again, he is at least retarded in the course of his activity, and is forced to do again what he had done already once before. That immoral doctrine of morals, which generally pretends good ends to excuse bad means, and which has been called Jesuitical morality (although we do not mean to say that all Jesuits hold to it, and that none but Jesuits hold to it), might object to the above proposition, and, in fact, does object to the following : " Provided the goods thus taken are not destroyed, but merely made temporary use of, the final promotion of the end of reason is not checked, nay, is perhaps aided; if for 3IO THE SCIENCE OF ET/HCS. instance, the ]iarty wlio took the goods employs them better than the old proprietor would i)ave employed them. Supposing tiic one who takes them knows that the original pro])rietor is going to make a bad use of them, and himself intends a very laiulable use to the greater glory of God and greater service of his neiglibour : would he not act very morally, according to your own principles ?" I reply : To promote the good is a command addressed to me conditionally, namely, in so far as it comes within my sphere and stands within the power rightfully belong- ing to me ; but to interfere with the freedom of the other I am unconditionally prohibited. The reason why theft and tlie overreaching of the other for the sake of pretended good purposes, are not defended with the same obstinacy as " necessary lies," arises from the fact that our civil laws, which have the preservation of property at heart, above all other things, and have placed severe punishment on its violation, have differently formed our modes of thinking concerning this matter. The New Zealander, for whom civil laws have not done the same, doubtless steals for good purposes, as we live for good purposes. Secondly, I must not damage the pro^^erty of the other, neither intentionally, and with evil purpose in view, nor from carelessness ; and from the same reason, namely, because the free use of his property, and hence his freedom generally, is thereby checked. So far as inten- tional damage is concerned, not even a sophistry can be produced in its defence ; it is absolutely immoral. So far as damage through carelessness is concerned, it is my duty to take the same care to protect the other's property, which I take to preserve my own; for it is an end to me from the same reason as my own, namely, as a means to promote the rule of reason. Finally, it is prohibited to render more difficult the utilizing of his property to the owner. The ground of THE THEORY OF DUTIES. 311 the prohi1)ition in clear. 'J'ho object of the property is, that the owner should freely use it to promote his ciiiIk, which I must assume {is tending to realize the rule of reason. To check the free use of his property is therefore equal to cancelling the end of all property, and is, there- fore, essentially the same as robbery. It is no excuse that I intended thereby to prevent an evil and injurious use of it. To restore what has been taken or damaged, is always duty. Without restoration there is no forgiveness, i.e., no reconciliation with myself. The strict proof is as follows: He who thinks morally does not desire to damage the other's property. But this damage continues in its consequences until the coznplete restoration has been accomplished. As sure as I therefore return to a moral mode of thinking, I desire to have the conse- quences cancelled, and thus the act annihilated ; and in obedience to this desire I must do all in my power to realize it. h. The 2^osüive application of the requirement of the moral law, that the property of the others shall be an end to me, because it is a condition of their formal lawful freedom, involves the following commands : Firstly: Each man who attains the use of his reason must have property. The proof has been furnished above. He must be able to act freely. Now the care to provide for everyone's property belongs, first of all, to the State. Strictly speaking, there is no rightful property at all in a State, where but a single individual lacks property; i.e., in the truest sense of the word, as signifying the exclusive sphere for free activity, and hence not merely objects, but likewise exclusive rights, to certain arts (professions). For each one owns his property only in so far as all others have recognized it ; but they cannot have thus recognized it unless he in return has recognized their property like- wise. Hence they must possess property. He who has 312 THE SCIENCE OF ETHICS. none, has not relinquished his claim to that of the others, and therefore very justly claims it. This is the legal aspect of the case. Hence it is the first duty of anyone who has convinced himself of this truth, to do what is in his power to have it recognized and carried out in his State. But until this is done — and why sliould it not be done once ? — it is the duty of each one to give to him who has no property, some property ; or, in other words, it is his duty to be benevolent, l^enevolence, however, as everyone will perceive, is a conditioned duty; it would not need to act if the State did what it ought to do. Let it be well observed : Benevolence consists in pro- curing property for those who have none, or in securing to them a certain and continued livelihood. We should try and help one, or many, if possible, thoroughly, and for ail future time ; to obtain situations for those who have none, labour for the labourless ; give, or loan, to the needy so that they may again resume their work; educate, or assist in educating, orphans, &c., &c, ; in short, we should do wholly as many works of benevolence as possible, and not merely put a little patch here or there. Only thus is our benevolence ratio