Let me hold fast for ever by this doctrine, which is no mere verbal distinction, but a true and deep one, bearing with it the most important consequences for my whole existence and character. All my conviction is but faith; and it proceeds from the character, not from the understanding. Knowing this, I will enter upon no disputation, because I foresee that thereby nothing can be gained; I will not suffer myself to be perplexed by it, for the source of my conviction lies higher than all disputation; I will not suffer myself to entertain the desire of pressing this conviction on others by reasoning, and I will not be surprised if such an un dertaking should fail. I have adopted my mode of thinking first of all for myself, not for others, and be fore myself only will I justify it. He who possesses the honest, upright purpose of which I am conscious, will also attain a similar conviction; but without that, this conviction can in no way be attained. Now that I know this, I also know from what point all culture of myself and others must proceed; from the will, not from the understanding. If the former be only fixedly and honestly directed towards the Good, the latter will \ BOOK III. FAITH. 477 of itself apprehend the True. Should the latter only be exercised, whilst the former remains neglected, there can arise nothing whatever but a dexterity in groping after vain and empty refinements, throughout the ab solute void inane. Now that I know this, I am able to confute all false knowledge that may rise in opposi tion to my faith. I know that every pretended truth, produced by mere speculative thought, and not founded upon faith, is assuredly false and surreptitious; for mere knowledge, thus produced, leads only to the con viction that we can know nothing. I know that such false knowledge never can discover anything but what it has previously placed in its premises through faith, from which it probably draws conclusions which arc wholly false. Now that I know this, I possess the touchstone of all truth and of all conviction. Con science alone is the root of all truth: whatever is opposed to conscience, or stands in the way of the fulfilment of her behests, is assuredly false; and it is impossible for me to arrive at a conviction of its truth, even if I should be unable to discover the fallacies by which it is produced.
So has it been with all men who have ever seen the light of this world. Without being conscious of it. they apprehend all the reality which has an existence for them, through faith alone; and this faith forces it self on them simultaneously with their existence; — it is born with them. How could it be otherwise? If in mere knowledge, in mere perception and reflection, there is no ground for regarding our mental presenta tions as more than mere pictures which necessarily pass before our view, why do we yet regard all of them as more than this, and assume, as their foundation, T t 2 478 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
something which exists independently of all presenta tion? If we all possess the capacity and the instinct to proceed beyond our first natural view of things, why do so few actually go beyond it, and why do we even defend ourselves, with a sort of bitterness, from every motive by which others try to persuade us to this course? What is it which holds us confined within this first natural belief? Not inferences of reason, for there are none such; it is the interest we have in a reality which we desire to produce;• — the good, absolutely for its own sake, — the common and sensuous, for the sake of the enjoyment they afford. No one who lives can divest himself of this interest, and just as little can he cast off the faith which this interest brings with it. We are all born in faith; — he who is blind, follows blindly the secret and irresistible impulse; he who sees, follows by sight, and believes because he resolves to believe.
What unity and completeness does this view pre sent! — what dignity does it confer on human nature! Our thought is not founded on itself alone, indepen dently of our impulses and affections; — man does not consist of two independent and separate elements; he is absolutely one. All our thought is founded on our impulses; — as a man's affections are, so is his know ledge. These impulses compel us to a certain mode of thought only so long as we do not perceive the con straint; the constraint vanishes the moment it is per ceived; and it is then no longer the impulse by itself, but we ourselves, according to our impulse, who form our own system of thought.
But I shall open my eyes; shall learn thoroughly to BOOK III. FAITH. 479 know myself; shall discover that constraint; — this is my vocation. I shall thus, and under that supposition I shall necessarily, form my own mode of thought. Then shall I stand absolutely independent, thoroughly equipt and perfected through my own act and deed. The primitive source of all my other thought and of my life itself, that from which everything proceeds which can have an existence in me, for me, or through me, the innermost spirit of my spirit, — is no longer a foreign power, but it is, in the strictest possible sense, the product of my own will. I am wholly my own creation. I might have followed blindly the leading of my spiritual nature. But I would not be a work of Mature but of myself, and I have become so even by means of this resolution. By endless subtilties I might have made the natural conviction of my own mind dark and doubtful. But I have accepted it with freedom, simply because I resolved to accept it. I have chosen the system which I have now adopted with settled purpose and deliberation from among other possible modes of thought, because I have recognised in it the only one consistent with my dignity and my vocation. With freedom and consciousness I have returned to the point at which JVaturc had left me. I accept that which she announces; — but I do not accept it because I must; I believe it 'because I will.
The exalted vocation of my understanding fills me with reverence. It is no longer the deceptive mirror which reflects a series of empty pictures, proceeding from nothing and tending to nothing; it is bestowed upon me for a great purpose. Its cultivation for this 480 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
purpose is entrusted to me; it is placed in my hands, and at my hands it will be required. — It is placed in my hands. I know immediately, — and here my faith accepts the testimony of my consciousness without farther criticism, — I know that I am not placed under the necessity of allowing my thoughts to float about without direction or purpose, but that I can voluntarily arouse and direct my attention to one object, turn it away again towards another; — know that it is neither a blind necessity which compels me to a certain mode of thought, nor an empty chance which runs riot with my thoughts; but that it is I who think, and that I can think of that whereof I determine to think. Thus by reflection I have discovered something more; I have discovered that I myself, by my own act alone, produce my whole system of thought, and the particular view which I take of truth in general; since it remains with me either to deprive myself of all sense of truth by means of over-refinement, or to yield myself to this view with faithful obedience. My whole mode of thought, and the cultivation which my understanding receives, as well as the objects to which I direct it, depend entirely on myself. True insight is merit; — the perversion of my capacity for knowledge, thought lessness, obscurity, error, and unbelief, are guilt.
There is but one point towards which I have un ceasingly to direct all my attention, — namely, what I ought to do, and how I may most suitably fulfil the obligation which binds me to do it. All my thoughts must have a bearing on my actions, and must be cap able of being considered as means, however remote, to this end; otherwise they are an idle and aimless show, a mere waste of time and strength, and the perversion BOOK III. FAITH. 481 of a noble power, which is entrusted to me for a very different end.
I dare hope, I dare surely promise myself, to follow out this undertaking with good results. The Nature on which I have to act is not a foreign element, called into existence without reference to me, into which I cannot penetrate. It is moulded by my own laws of thought, and must be in harmony with them; it must be thoroughly transparent, knowable and penetrable to me, even to its inmost recesses. In all its pheno mena it expresses nothing but the connexions and relations of my own being to myself, and as surely as I may hope to know myself, so surely may I expect to comprehend it. Let me seek only that which I ought to seek, and I shall find; let me ask only that which I ought to ask, and I shall receive an answer.
I.
I.
That voice within my soul in which I believe, and on account of which I believe in every other thing to which I attach credence, does not merely command me to act in general. This is impossible; all these general principles are formed only through my own voluntary observation and reflection, applied to many individual facts; but never in themselves express any fact what ever. This voice of my conscience announces to me precisely what I ought to do, and what leave undone, in every particular situation of life; it accompanies me, if I will but listen to it with attention, through all the events of my life, and never refuses me my reward where I am called upon to act. It carries with it im- 482 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
mediate conviction, and irresistibly compels my assent to its behests: — it is impossible for me to contend against it.
To listen to it, to obey it honestly and unreservedly, without fear or equivocation, — this is my true vocation, the whole end and purpose of my existence. My life ceases to be an empty play without truth or signifi cance. There is something that must absolutely be done for its own sake alone; — that which conscience demands of me in this particular situation of life it is mine to do, for this only am I here; — to know it, I have understanding; to perform it, I have power. Through this edict of conscience alone, truth and reality are in troduced into my conceptions. I cannot refuse them my attention and my obedience without thereby sur rendering the very purpose of my own existence.
Hence I cannot withhold my belief from the reality which they announce, without at the same time re nouncing my vocation. It is absolutely true, without farther proof or confirmation, — nay, it is the first truth, and the foundation of all other truth and certainty, that this voice must be obeyed; and therefore every thing becomes to me true and certain, the truth and certainty of which is assumed in the possibility of such an obedience.
There appear before me in space, certain pheno mena, to which I transfer the idea of myself; — I con ceive of them as beings like myself. Speculation, when carried out to its last results, has indeed taught me, or would teach me, that these supposed rational beings out of myself are but the products of my own presen- tative power; that, according to certain laws of my thought, I am compelled to represent out of myself my BOOK III. FAITH. 483 conception of myself; and that, according to the same laws, I can only transfer this conception to certain definite intuitions. But the voice of my conscience thus speaks: — " Whatever these beings may be in and for themselves, thou shall act towards them as self-existent, free, substantive beings, wholly independent of thee. Assume it as already known, that they can give a pur pose to their own being wholly by themselves, and quite independently of thee; never interrupt the accomplish ment of this purpose, but rather further it to the utmost of thy power. Honour their freedom, lovingly take up their purposes as if they were thine own." Thus ought I to act: — by this course of action ought all my thought to be guided, — nay, it shall and must neces sarily be so, if I have resolved to obey the voice of my conscience. I shall therefore always regard these beings as in possession of an existence for themselves wholly independent of mine, as capable of forming and carrying out their own purposes; — from this point of view, I shall never be able to regard them otherwise, and my previous speculations shall vanish from before me like an empty dream. — I think of them as beings like myself, I have said; but strictly speaking, it is not mere thought by which they are first presented to me as such. It is by the voice of my conscience, — the command: — " Here set a limit to thy freedom; here recognise and reverence purposes which are not thine own." This it is which is first translated into the thought, " Here, certainly and truly, are beings like myself, free and independent." To view them other wise, I must in action renounce, and in speculation disregard, the voice of my conscience.
Other phenomena present themselves before me which I 484 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
I do not regard as beings like myself, but as things irrational. Speculation finds no difficulty in showing how the conception of such things is developed solely from my own presentative faculty, and its necessary modes of activity. But I apprehend these things, also, through want, desire, and enjoyment. Not by the mental conception, but by hunger, thirst, and their satisfaction, does anything become for me food and drink. I am necessitated to believe in the reality of that which threatens my sensuous existence, or in that which alone is able to maintain it. Conscience enters the field in order that it may at once sanctify and re strain this natural impulse. " Thou shalt maintain, ex ercise, and strengthen thyself and thy physical powers, for they have been counted upon in the plans of reason. But thou canst only maintain them by using them in a legitimate manner, comformable to the inward nature of such things. There are also, besides thee, many other beings like thyself, whose powers have been counted upon like thine own, and can only be maintained in the same way as thine own. Concede to them the same privilege that has been allowed to thee. Respect what belongs to them, as their possession; — use what belongs to thee, legitimately as thine own." Thus ought I to act, — according to this course of action must I think. I am compelled to regard these things as standing under their own natural laws, independent of, though perceivable by, me; and therefore to ascribe to them an independent existence. I am compelled to believe in such laws; the task of investigating them is set before me, and that empty speculation vanishes like a mist when the genial sun appears.
In short, there is for me absolutely no such thing as BOOK III. FAITH. 485 an existence which has no relation to myself, and which I contemplate merely for the sake of contem plating it; — whatever has an existence for me, has it only through its relation to myself. But there is, in the highest sense, only one relation to me possible, all others are but subordinate forms of this: — my vocation to moral activity. My world is the object and sphere of my duties, and absolutely nothing more; there is no other world for me, and no other qualities of my world than what are implied in this; — my whole united capa city, all finite capacity, is insufficient to comprehend any other. Whatever possesses an existence for me, can bring its existence and reality into contact with me only through this relation, and only through this relation do I comprehend it: — for any other existence than this I have no organ whatever.
To the question, whether, in deed and in fact, such a world exists as that which I represent to myself, I can give no answer more fundamental, more raised above all doubt, than this: — I have, most certainly and truly, these determinate duties, which announce themselves to me as duties towards certain objects, to be fulfilled by means of certain materials; — duties which I cannot otherwise conceive of, and cannot otherwise fulfil, than within such a world as I represent to my self. Even to one who had never meditated on his own moral vocation, if there could be such a one, or who, if he had given it some general consideration, had, at least, never entertained the slightest purpose of fulfil ling it at any time within an indefinite futurity, — even for him, his sensuous world, and his belief in its reality, arises in no other manner than from his ideas of a mo ral world. If he do not apprehend it by the thought u u 486 THE VOCATION OF MAX.
of his duties, he certainly does so by the demand for his rights. What he perhaps never requires of himself, he does certainly exact from others in their conduct towards him, — that they should treat him with pro priety, consideration, and respect, not as an irrational thing, but as a free and independent being; — and thus, in supposing in them an ability to comply with his own de mands, he is compelled also to regard them as themselves considerate, free, and independent of the dominion of mere natural power. Should he never propose to himself any other purpose in his use and enjoyment of surround ing objects, but simply that of enjoying them, he at least demands this enjoyment as a right, in the posses sion of which he must be left undisturbed by others; and thus he apprehends even the irrational world of sense, by means of a moral idea. These claims of respect for his rationality, independence, and preservation, no one can resign who possesses a conscious existence; and with these claims, at least, there is united in his soul, earnestness, renunciation of doubt, and faith in a rea lity, even if they be not associated with the recogni tion of a moral law within him. Take the man who denies his own moral vocation, and thy existence, and the existence of a material world, except as a mere futile effort in which speculation tries her strength, — approach him practically, introduce his own principles into life, and act as if either he had no existence at all, or were merely a portion of rude matter, — he will soon lay aside his scornful indifference, and indignantly complain of thee; earnestly call thy attention to thy conduct towards him; maintain that thou oughtst not and darest not so to act; and thus prove to thee, by deeds, that thou art assuredly capable of acting upon BOOK III. FAITH. 487 him; that he is, and that thou art, — that there is a me dium by which thou canst influence him, and that thou, at least, hast duties to perform towards him.
Thus, it is not the operation of supposed external objects, which indeed exist for us, and we for them, only in so far as we already know of them; and just as little an empty vision evoked by our own imagina tion and thought, the products of which must, like itself, be mere empty pictures; — it is not these, but the necessary faith in our own freedom and power, in our own real activity and in the definite laws of human action, which lies at the root of all our consciousness of a reality external to ourselves; — a consciousness which is itself but faith, since it is founded on another faith, of which however it is a necessary consequence. We are compelled to believe that we act, and that we ought to act in a certain manner; we are compelled to assume a certain sphere for this action; this sphere is the real, actually present world, such as we find it; — and on the other hand, the world is absolutely nothing more than this sphere, and cannot, in any other way, extend itself beyond it. From this necessity of action proceeds the consciousness of the actual world; and not the reverse way, from the consciousness of the actual world the necessity of action: — this, not that, is the first; the former is derived from the latter. We do not act be cause we know, but we know because we are called upon to act: — the practical reason is the root of all reason. The laws of action for rational beings are im mediately certain; their world is only certain through that previous certainty. We cannot deny these laws without plunging the world, and ourselves with it, into absolute annihilation; — we raise ourselves from 488 THE VOCATION OF MAN.
this abyss, and maintain ourselves above it, solely by our moral activity.
II.
There is something which I am called upon to do, simply in order that it may be done; something to avoid doing, solely that it may be left undone. But can I act without having an end in view beyond the action itself, without directing my intention to something which can become possible through my action, and only through that? Can I will, without having something which I will? No: — this would entirely contradict the nature of my mind. To every action there is united in my thought, immediately and by the laws of thought itself, a condition of things placed in futurity, to which my action is related as the efficient cause to the effect produced. But this purpose or end of my action must not be given to me for its own sake, — perhaps through some necessity of Nature, — and then my course of action determined according to this end; I must not have an end assigned to me, and then inquire how I must act in order to attain this end; my action must not be dependent on the end; but I must act in a certain manner, simply because I ought so to act; — this is the first point. That a result will foUow from this course of action, is proclaimed by the voice within me. This result necessarily becomes an end to me, since I am bound to perform the action which brings it, and it alone, to pass. I will that something shall come to pass, because I must act so that it may come to pass; — thus as I do not hunger because food is before me, but a thing becomes food for me because I hunger; so I BOOK III. FAITH. 489 do not act as I do because a certain end is to be at tained, but the end becomes mine because I am bound to act in the particular manner by which it may be attained. I have not first in view the point towards which I am to draw my line, and then, by its posi tion, determine the direction of my line, and the angle that it shall make; but I draw my line absolutely in a right angle, and thereby the points are determined through which my line must pass. The end does not determine the commandment; but, on the contrary, the primitive purport of the commandment determines the end.