•• Ctje OTatfjoltc 3° For Prospectus indicating the character and purpose of the Catholic Series, and for List of Books already published, see Catalogue at the end of this Work.
VOL. I.
THE POPULAR WORKS JOHANN GOTTLIEB FICHTE.
£ranslate& front tfje (Bferman, A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, WILLIAM SMITH.
VOL. I.
LONDON: JOHN CHAPMAN, 142, STEAND.
M.D.CCC.XLVIII.
THE favourable reception which has been given to the English Translation of FICHTE'S popular writings having rendered necessary a New Edition of some of the earlier publications, the Translator has availed himself of the op portunity thus afforded him of issuing in a collective form the writings which he had previously sent forth in separate volumes. He indulges the hope of thereby giving a more fixed and permanent outward shape to works which have nothing transitory or perishable in their internal character, and perchance of adding something to the well-earned fame of a truly Great Man.
The present volume contains an enlarged edition of the MEMOIR OF FICHTE, the LECTURES on the VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR and on the NATURE OF THE SCHOLAR, and THE VOCATION OF MAN. The last-mentioned work is now pub lished for the first time in its present shape. The second volume will contain the CHARACTERISTICS OF THE PRESENT AGE, and the DOCTRINE OF RELIGION.
W. SMITH.
EDINBURGH, August 1848.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST.
I.
MEMOIR OF FICIITE, page 1 " ~" THE VOCATION OF THE SCHOLAR,..169 III. THE NATURE OF THE SCHOLAR,...239 IY. THE VOCATION OF MAN,...365 OF JOHAtfN GOTTLIEB FICHTE BY WILLIAM SMITH.
MEMOIR OP JOHANN GOTTLIEB FICHTE.
AT the time of the great religious division, when Germany wa§ torn by internal factions and ravaged by foreign armies, — when for thirty years the torch of devastation never ceased to blaze, nor the groan of misery to ascend on high, — a skirmish took place near the village of Rammenau, in Upper Lusatia, between some Swedish troops and a party of the Catholic army. A subaltern officer who had followed the fortunes of Gustavus was left on the field severely wounded. The kind and simple-hearted villagers were eager to render him every aid which his situation required, and beneath the roof one of them, a zealous Lutheran, he was tended until returning health enabled him either to rejoin his companions in arms or return to his native land. But the stranger had found an attraction stronger than those of war or home, — he continued an inmate in the house of his protector, and became his son-in-law. The old man's other sons having fallen in the war, the soldier inherited his simple possessions, and founded a family whose generations flowed on in peaceful obscurity until MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
its name was made illustrious by the subject of the following memoir.
The village of Rammenau is situated in a beautiful and well-cultivated district, diversified by wooded slopes and watered by numerous streams. Its inhabitants are a frugal and industrious people, and preserve, even to the present day, the simple and unaffected manners of their forefathers. Amid this community, withdrawn alike from the refinements and the corruptions of more po lished society, the descendants of the Swedish soldier bore an honourable reputation for those manly virtues of our nature which find in poverty a rugged but conge nial soil. Firmness of purpose, sterling honesty in their dealings, and immovable uprightness of conduct, became their family characteristics. From this worthy stock the subject of our memoir took his descent. The grand father of the philosopher, who alone out of a numerous family remained resident in his native place, inherited from his predecessor, along with the little patrimonial property, a small trade in ribbons, the product of his own loom, which he disposed of to the inhabitants of the village and its vicinity. Desirous that his eldest son, Christian Fichte, should extend this business beyond the limited sphere in which he practised it himself, he sent him as apprentice to Johann Schurich, a manufac turer of linen and ribbons in the neighbouring town of Pulsnitz, in order that he might there learn his trade more perfectly than he could do at home. The son conducted himself well during his apprenticeship, rose high in the esteem of his master, and was at last received into the house as an inmate. He there succeeded in gaining the affections of Schurich's daughter. This attachment was for some time kept secret, in deference PARENTAGE — EARLY EDUCATION. 5 to the pride of the maiden's father; but his prejudices having been overcome, young Fichte brought home his bride to his native village, and with her dowry he built a house there, in which some of his descendants still follow the paternal occupation.
JOHANN GOTTLIEB FICHTE was their first child, and was born on the 19th May 1762. At his baptism, an aged relative of the mother, who had come from a distance to be present at the ceremony, and who was revered by all men for his wisdom and piety, fore told the future eminence of the child; and as death soon afterwards set his seal upon the lips by which this prophecy had been uttered, it became invested with all the sScredness of a deathbed prediction. Their faith in this announcement induced the parents to allow their first-born an unusual degree of liberty, and by thus affording room for the development of his nature, the prediction became in some measure the means of securing its own fulfilment.
The boy soon displayed some characteristics of the future man. He seldom joined the other children in their games, but loved to wander forth into the fields, alone with his own thoughts. There he would stand for hours, his eyes fixed on the far distance, until he was roused from his trance and brought home by the shepherds, who knew and loved the solitary and me ditative child. These thoughtful hours, in which the first germs of his spiritual nature were unfolded, left impressions upon him which the cares of future years never obliterated, and they always continued among his most cherished recollections. His first teacher was his own father, who, after the business of the day was over B 2 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
and the garden work finished, instructed him in read ing, and told him the story of his own journeyings in Saxony and Franconia. He was an eager scholar, soon mastered his Bible and Catechism, and even read the morning and evening prayers to the family circle. When he was seven years of age, his father, as a reward for his industry, brought him from the neighbouring town the story of Siegfried. He was soon so entirely rapt in this book, that he neglected his other lessons in order to indulge his fancy for it. This brought upon him a severe reproof; and finding that the beloved book stood between him and his duty, he with cha racteristic determination resolved to destroy it. He carried it to the brook which ran by his father's house, with the intention of throwing it into the water, but long he hesitated before accomplishing his first act of self-denial. At length he cast it into the stream. No sooner, however, did he see it carried away from him, than regret for his loss triumphed over his re solution, and he wept bitterly. His father discovered him, and learned the loss of the book, but without learning the reason of it. Angry at the supposed slight cast upon his present, he punished the boy with un wonted severity. As in his cliildhood, so also in his after life, did ignorance of his true motives often cause Fichte to be misunderstood and misrepresented. When this matter had been forgotten, his father bought him a similar book, but the boy refused to accept it, lest he should again be led into temptation.
Young Fichte soon attracted the notice of the clergy man of the village, an excellent man who was beloved by the whole community. The pastor, perceiving that the boy possessed unusual abilities, allowed him frequently REMOVAL FROM HOME. 7 to come to his house in order to receive instruction, and resolved, if possible, to obtain for him a scientific educa tion. An opportunity of doing so accidentally presented itself. When Fichte was about eight or nine years of age, the Freiherr von Miltitz, being on a visit to a noble man resident in the neighbourhood, was desirous of hearing a sermon from the pastor of Bammenau, who had acquired some reputation as a preacher, but had arrived too late in the evening to gratify his wishes. Lamenting his disappointment, he was told that there was a boy in the village whose extraordinary memory enabled him to repeat faithfully any address which he had once heard. Little Gottlieb was sent for, and appeared before the company in his linen jacket, carrying a aosegay which his mother had placed in lu's hand. He astonished the assembled guests by his minute recollection of the morning's discourse and the earnestness with which he repeated it before them. The Freiherr, who belonged to one of the noblest families in Saxony, and possessed a high reputation for his dis interested benevolence and unaffected piety, determined to make further inquiries respecting this extraordinary cliild; and the friendly pastor having found the oppor tunity he wished, easily persuaded him to undertake the charge of the boy's education. The consent of the parents having been with difficulty obtained, — for they were reluctant to expose their son to the temptations of a noble house, — young Fichte was consigned to the care of his new protector, who engaged to treat him as liis own child.
His first removal was to Siebeneichen (Sevenoaks), a seat on the Elbe belonging to the Freiherr. The stately solemnity of this place and the gloom of the surround- 8 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
ing forest scenery weighed heavily upon his spirits: he was seized with a deep melancholy, which threatened to injure his health. His kind foster-father prudently resolved to place him under the care of a clergyman in the neighbouring village of Mederau, who, himself without family, had a great love for children. Here Fichte spent the happiest years of his boyhood. He received the kindest attentions from his teacher, whose name he never mentioned in after years without the deepest and most grateful emotion. Here the foun dation of his education was laid in a knowledge of the ancient languages; and so rapid was his progress, that his instructor soon found his own learning in sufficient for the further superintendence of his pupil's studies. In his twelfth year he was sent by the Freiherr von Miltitz, first to the town school of Meis sen, and soon afterwards to the public school of Pforta near Raumburg.
The school at Pforta retained many traces of its monkish origin: the teachers and pupils lived in cells, and the boys were allowed to leave the interior only once a-week, and then under inspection, to visit a par ticular play-ground in the neighbourhood. The stiffest formalism pervaded the economy of this establishment, and every trait of independence was carefully suppressed. The living spirit of knowledge was unrecognised in its antiquated routine, and the generous desire of excellence gave place to the petty artifices of jealousy. Instead of the free communication, kind advice, and personal ex ample of a home, secrecy, distrust, and deceit were the prevalent characteristics of the school.
When he was scarcely thirteen years of age, Fichte EDUCATION AT PFORTA. 9 entered this seminary; and henceforward he was alone in the world, cast upon his own resources, trusting to his own strength and guidance. So soon was he called upon to exercise that powerful and clear-sighted independence of character by which he was afterwards so much distinguished.
The strange world into which he now entered, the gloom and confinement he encountered, so different from the free atmosphere of his native woods and mountains,, made a deep impression on the boy. His sadness and tears exposed him to the mockery of his school-fellows: he wanted prudence to disregard them, and courage to complain to a teacher. He determined to run away. Shame and the fear of being sent back to Pforta prevented him from returning to his protector the Freiherr; he therefore conceived the idea of seeking some distant island, where, like Robinson, he might lead a life of perfect freedom. But he would not steal away, — he would make it evident that necessity drove him to the course which he adopted. He warned his senior, who oppressed him severely, that he would no longer suffer such treatment, and that if it were not amended he would leave the school. His threat was of course received with laughter and contempt, and the boy now thought he might quit the place with honour. The opportunity was soon found, and he took the road to Raumburg. On the way he remembered the maxim of his old friend the pastor, that every undertaking should be begun with a petition for divine aid. He sunk to his knees on a rising ground. During prayer he called to mind his parents, their care for him, the grief which his sudden disappearance would cause them. "Never to see them again!" — this thought was too 10 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
much for him: his joy and courage were already gone. He determined to return and confess his fault. On the way back he met those who had been sent after him. When taken before the Rector, he admitted that it had been his intention to run away, but at the same time recounted so ingenuously the motives which had induced him to take this step, that the Rector not only forgave him his fault, but resolved to take him under his own special protection. He obtained another senior, who soon gained his affections, and was after wards his companion and friend at the University.
From this time Fichte's residence at Pforta became gradually more agreeable to him. He entered zealously upon his studies, and found in them occupation, interest, and spiritual nourishment. The defects of his pre vious education were soon overcome by industry, and he found himself once more comfortable and happy. Among those older scholars with whom Fichte now associated, a spirit of independence sprang up, — they laboured assiduously to set themselves free from the degrading influences of the school, and from the anti quated and worn-out notions held by most of the teachers. The praise or blame of these masters was lit tle valued among them, if they could secure the esteem of each other. Books imbued with the new spirit of free inquiry were secretly obtained, and, in spite of the strictest prohibitions, great part of the night was spent in their perusal. The works of Wieland, Lessing, and Goethe were positively forbidden; yet they found their way within the walls, and were eagerly studied. Les- sing's controversy with Goze made a deep impression upon Fichte: each successive number of the Anti-Gdze he almost committed to memory. A new spiritual UNIVERSITY EDUCATION. 11 life was awakened within him: he understood for the first time the meaning of scientific knowledge, and cast off the thraldom of scholastic pedantry. Lessing became to him an object of such deep reverence, that he determined to devote his first days of freedom to seek a personal interview with his mental liberator. But this plan was frustrated by want of money; and when afterwards it might have been carried into exe cution, an untimely death had deprived Germany of her boldest thinker.
In 1780, Fichte, then eighteen years of age, entered the University of Jena. He joined the theological faculty, not so much, probably, by his own choice, as by desire of liwr parents and protector. By his interest in other branches of science, and by the marked direc tion of his mind to clearness and certainty of know ledge, it soon became evident that he would not accept the shortest and easiest way to the completion of his studies. Nothing definite is known of the early pro gress of his mind, but his later productions leave no doubt of its general tendency. He must soon have been struck with the disparity between the form of theology as it was then taught, and the wants of a philosophic intellect. Fichte's nature could only be satisfied with a consistent theory, deduced, through all its ramifica tions, from one fundamental principle. We may con jecture what doubts and obscurities dogmatic theology must have presented to his mind at this time, when we recollect that, even at an after period of his life, he still interested himself in the task of reconciling faith with knowledge, — revelation with science. He attended a course of Dogmatics by C. F. Pezold, at Leipzic, to 12 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
which place he had removed from Jena; and in the attempt to attain a clear comprehension of the theo logical doctrines of the attributes of God, the creation, the freedom of the will, &c., he encountered unexpected difficulties, which led him into a wider circle of inquiry, and finally drove him to abandon the theological for the philosophical point of view. Thus his philosophical speculations had their origin in an attempt to create a tenable system of dogmatics, and to obtain light on the higher questions of theology.
Some hints of the early direction of his philosophical studies may be gathered from his letters written about this time. The question which chiefly engaged his attention seems to have been that of Liberty and Ne cessity. Rejecting the doctrine of Free-will considered as absolute indifferent self-determination, he adopted the view, which, to distinguish it from fatalism, may be named determinism. Every complete and consistent philosophy contains a deterministic side, for the thought of an all-directing Unity is the beginning and end of profound investigation. Fatalism sees in this highest unity a dark and mysterious Nemesis, — an unconscious mechanical necessity: determinism, the highest dis posing Reason, the infinite Spirit and God, to whom the determination of each living being is not only to be referred, but in whom alone it becomes clear and intelligible.
Fichte seems to have adopted this view apart from any foreign influence; for he was as yet unacquainted with Spinoza, its most consistent expounder, whom he had only heard mentioned as an abstruse atheist. He communicated his opinions to a Saxon preacher, who had the reputation of distinguished philosophical attain- PHILOSOPHICAL OPINIONS. 13 ments, and was well versed in the Wolffian metaphysics. He was informed that he had adopted Spinozism, and it was through Wolff's refutation that he first became acquainted with that profound and systematic thinker. He engaged in the study of Spinoza's Etliica, and that great work made a deep impression upon him, as upon every other earnest student. Prolonged investi gation, however, rendered him dissatisfied with these views; — the indestructible feeling of internal indepen dence and freedom, rendered doubly powerful by the energy of his own character, could neither be removed, nor explained on an exclusively deterministic theory, which must ultimately have come into collison with his deepest spiritual want, — to look upon freedom — self-determination — as the only true and real being. This original tendency of his mind prepared him afterwards for the enthusiastic reception of the doc trines of Kant, and is, in fact, the very root of his own " Wissenschaftslehre," which in this respect stands directly opposed to the doctrine of Spinoza, although an essential affinity does notwithstanding prevail between these two greatest systems of modern philosophy. Thus has every great theory its foundation in the individual character, and is indeed but the scientific expression of the spiritual life of its originator.
Amid these lofty speculations, poverty, the scholar's bride, knocked at his door, and roused him to that struggle with the world, in which so many purchase ease with degradation, but in which men such as he find strength, confidence, and triumph. His generous benefactor was now dead, and he was thrown on his own resources. From 1784 to 1788 he earned a pre carious livelihood by acting as tutor in various houses c 14 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.
in Saxony. His studies were desultory and interrupted; he had not even the means of procuring books; the strength which should have been devoted to his own mental cultivation was wasted in obtaining a scanty subsistence. But amid all his privations his courage never deserted him, nor the inflexible determination, which was not so much an act of his will as a law of his nature, to pursue truth for her own sake and at all hazards. " It is our business," says he on another occasion — " it is our business to be true to ourselves: the result is altogether in the hands of providence." His favourite plan of life at this period, and for a long time afterwards, was to become a village pastor in Saxony, and amid the leisure which he should find in that occupation, to prosecute, without disturbance, his own mental culture. But his theological studies were not completed, and he was without the means of con tinuing them. In 1787 he addressed a letter to the President of the Consistory, requesting to be allowed a share of the support which many poor students enjoy at the Saxon Universities until the following Easter, when he should be ready to present himself before the Consistory for examination. " I have never," he says, " partaken in the pubh'c provision for students, nor have I enjoyed an allowance of any kind, although my poverty can be clearly proved. Is it not possible, then, to allow me a maintenance sufficient for this short time, that I may be enabled to devote myself to theology until Easter?...Without this, my residence at Leipzic is of no avail to me, for I am com pelled to give all my time to heterogeneous pursuits, in order that I may even live Should it please you to grant my request, I assure you by all PECUNIARY DIFFICULTIES. 15 that I hold sacred, that I will devote myself entirely to this object; that I will consecrate my life to the Father land which supported me at school, and which since then has only become dearer to me; and that I will come before the High Consistory, prepared for my examination, and submit my future destiny to its wis dom.";No notice was taken of his request, — partly, it may be conjectured, on account of doubts which were entertained of his orthodoxy — a reason which closed the gates of preferment against his friend "Weisshuhn and many others.
In May 1788, every prospect had closed around him, and every honourable means of advancement seemed to be exhausted. The present was utterly barren, and there was no hope in the future. It is needful that natures like his should be nurtured in adversity that they may discover their own strength; prosperity might lull into an inglorious slumber the energies for whose appearance the world is waiting. He would not disclose his helpless situation to any of his well- wishers, but the proud consciousness of his own worth enabled him, amid unmerited sufferings, to oppose the bold front of human dignity against the pressure of opposing circumstances.
It was the eve of his birthday. With unavailing anxiety he had again pondered all his projects, and found all alike hopeless. The world had cast him out, — his country refused him food, — he thought his last birthday was at hand; but he was determined that his honour, all that he could now call his own, should remain unsullied. Full of bitter thoughts, he returned to his solitary lodging. He found a letter awaiting 16 MEMOIR OF FICHTE.