The Vocation of Man. Johann Gottlieb Fichte
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relation to the other opposing powers of Nature—could become; and,—there being no ground of limitation within itself,—since it could become, necessarily must become. It is thus determined what I, this definite person, must be; and the general law by which I am what I am is discovered. I am that which I am, because in this particular condition of the great system of Nature, only such an one, and absolutely no other, was possible; and a spirit who could look through the innermost secrets of Nature, would, from knowing one single man, be able distinctly to declare what men had formerly existed, and what men would exist at any future moment;—in one individual he would discern all actual and possible individuals. This, my inter-connexion with the whole system of Nature, it is, then, which determines what I have been, what I am, and what I shall be; and the same spirit would be able, from any possible moment of my existence, to discover infallibly what I had previously been, and what I was afterwards to become. All that, at any time, I am and shall be, I am and shall be of absolute necessity; and it is impossible that I should be anything else.
I am, indeed, conscious of myself as an independent, and, in many occurrences of my life, a free being; but this consciousness may easily be explained on the principles already laid down, and may be thoroughly reconciled with the conclusions which have been drawn. My immediate consciousness, my proper perception, cannot go beyond myself and the modes of my own being;—I have immediate knowledge of myself alone: whatever I may know more than this, I know only by inference, in the same way in which I have inferred the existence of original powers of Nature, which yet do not lie within the circle of my perceptions. I myself, however,—that which I call me—my personality,—am not the man-forming power of Nature, but only one of its manifestations; and it is only of this manifestation that I am conscious, as myself, not of that power whose existence I only infer from the necessity of explaining my own. This manifestation, however, in its true nature, is really the product of an original and independent power, and must appear as such in consciousness. On this account I recognise myself generally as an independent being. For this reason I appear to myself as free in certain occurrences of my life, when these occurrences are the manifestations of the independent power which falls to my share as an individual; as restrained and limited, when, by any combination of outward circumstances, which may arise in time, but do not lie within the original limitations of my personality, I cannot do what my individual power would naturally, if unobstructed, be capable of doing; as compelled, when this individual power, by the superiority of antagonist powers, is compelled to manifest itself even in opposition to its own laws.
Bestow consciousness on a tree, and let it grow, spread out its branches, and bring forth leaves and buds, blossoms and fruits, after its kind, without hindrance or obstruction:—it will perceive no limitation to its existence in being only a tree, and a tree of this particular species, and this particular individual of the species; it will feel itself perfectly free, because, in all those manifestations, it will do nothing but what its nature requires; and it will desire to do nothing else, because it can only desire what that nature requires. But let its growth be hindered by unfavourable weather, want of nourishment, or other causes, and it will feel itself limited and restrained, because an impulse which actually belongs to its nature is not satisfied. Bind its free waving boughs to a wall, force foreign branches on it by ingrafting, and it will feel itself compelled to one course of action; its branches will grow, but not in the direction they would have taken if left to themselves; it will produce fruits, but not those which its own nature demands. In immediate consciousness, I appear to myself as free; by reflection on the whole of Nature, I discover that freedom is absolutely impossible; the former must be subordinate to the latter, for it can only be explained by means of it.
What high satisfaction do I enjoy through the system which my understanding has thus completed! What order, what firm connexion, what comprehensive supervision does it introduce into the whole fabric of my knowledge! Consciousness is here no longer that stranger in Nature, whose connexion with existence is so incomprehensible; it is native to it, and indeed one of its necessary manifestations. Nature rises gradually in the fixed series of her productions. In rude matter she is a simple existence; in organized matter she returns within herself to internal activity; in the plant, to produce form; in the animal, motion;—in man, as her highest masterpiece, she turns inwards that she may perceive and contemplate herself; in him she, as it were, doubles herself, and, from being mere existence, becomes existence and consciousness in one.
How I am and must be conscious of my own being and of its determinations, is, in this connexion, easily perceived. My being and my knowledge have one common foundation,—my own nature. The Living being within me, even because it is mine, is conscious of itself. Quite as conceivable is my consciousness of corporeal objects existing beyond myself. The powers in whose manifestation my personality consists,—the formative—the self-moving—the thinking powers,—are not these same powers as they exist in Nature at large, but only a certain definite portion of them; and that they are but such a portion, is because there are so many other existences beyond me. From the former, I can infer the latter; from the limitation, the power which limits. Because I myself am not this or that, which yet belongs to the connected system of existence, it must exist beyond me;—thus reasons the thinking principle within me. Of my own limitation, I am immediately conscious, because it is a part of myself, and only by reason of it do I possess an actual existence; my consciousness of the source of this limitation,—of that which I myself am not,—is produced by the former, and arises out of it.
Away, then, with those pretended influences and operations of outward things upon me, by means of which they are supposed to pour in upon me a know ledge which is not in themselves and cannot flow forth from them. The ground upon which I assume the existence of something beyond myself, does not he out of myself, but within me, in the limitation of my own personality. By means of this limitation, the thinking principle of Mature within me proceeds out of itself, and is able to survey itself as a whole, although, in each individual, from a different point of view.
In the same way there arises within me the idea of other thinking beings like myself. I, or the thinking power of Nature within me, possess some thoughts which seem to have developed themselves within myself as a particular form of Nature; and others, which seem not to have so developed themselves. And so it is in reality. The former are my own, peculiar, individual contribution to the general circle of thought in Nature; the latter are deduced from them, as what must surely have a place in that circle; but, being only inferences so far as I am concerned, must find that place, not in me, but in other thinking beings:—hence I conclude that there are other thinking beings besides myself. In short, Nature, in me, becomes conscious of herself as a whole, but only by beginning with my own individual consciousness, and proceeding from thence to the consciousness of universal being by inference founded on the principle of causality;—that is, she is conscious of the conditions under which alone such a form, such a motion, such a thought as that in which my personality consists, is possible. The principle of causality is the point of transition, from the particular within my self, to the universal which lies beyond myself; and the distinguishing characteristic of these two kinds of knowledge is this, that the one is immediate perception, while the other is inference.
In each individual, Nature beholds herself from a particular point of view. I call myself—I, and thee—thou; thou callest thyself—I, and me—thou; I lie beyond thee, as thou beyond me. Of what is without me, I comprehend first those things which touch me most nearly; thou, those which touch thee most nearly;—from these points we each proceed onwards to the next proximate; but we describe very different paths, which may here and there intersect each other, but never run parallel. There is an infinite variety of possible individuals, and hence also an infinite variety of possible starting points of consciousness. This consciousness of all individuals taken together, constitutes the complete consciousness of the universe; and there is no other, for only in the individual is there perfect precision and reality.
The testimony of consciousness in every individual is altogether sure and trustworthy, if it be indeed the consciousness here described; for this consciousness developes itself out of the whole prescribed course of Nature. Nature, however, cannot contradict herself; wherever there is a conception, there must be a corresponding existence, for conceptions are only produced simultaneously with the production