Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Foundation of
Transcendental Philo oph
t \\u'1#'1Ur~) • - ~ (I infH99)
D AN I EL BR EAZEALE
FICHTE
Foundations of
Transcendental Philosophy
(Wissenschaftslehre) Nuua Methodo
(1796/gg)
DANIEL BREAZEALE
All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in a review, this book, or parts
thereof, must not be reproduced in any form without permission in writing
from the publisher. For information, address Cornell University Press,
124 Roberts Place, Ithaca, New York 14850.
Acknowledgments ix
Editor's ·Introduction
Principles of the Edition and Translation 50
German/English Glossary 55
Abbreviations 61
Key to Symbols and Notes 62
§ 3 1 39
§ 4 147
§ 5 154
§ 6 167
§ 7 187
§ 8 204
§ 9 224
§ 10 234
§ 11 250
§ 12 258
§ 13 277
§ 14 308
§ 15 332
§ 10 344
§ 17 354
§ 18 420
§ 19 446
[vii]
VIII Contents
[ ix]
x Acknowledgments
PART I
The Origin and Publication of the First Presentation
of the Basic Principles of the Wisseruchaftslehre
In the spring of 1794 Fichte chose "Wisseruchaftslehre," a word com-
posed ofthe terms for "science" (or "scientific knowledge") and "theory"
(or "doctrine"), to designate his own, radically revised version of the
transcendental or "Critical" philosophy inaugurated by Immanuel Kant.
While conceding that his own version departed in many respects from
the "letter" of the Kantian exposition, Fichte insisted that his new sys-
tem-for all its novelty-was nevertheless true to the "spirit" of tran-
scendental idealism. 1
Fichte arrived at his new philosophical standpoint during the preced-
ing winter, in the course of a full-scale reexamination of the Kantian
philosophy. The occasion for this reexamination was a review he had
agreed to write for the Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung of an anonymously
published attack on the Critical philosophy by "Aenesidemus," a self-
described Humean skeptic. The book was widely recognized to be the
work of a former classmate of Fichte's, G. E. Schulze (1761-1833), pro-
fessor of philosophy at Helmstedt. True to its title, Aenesidemw, or con-
cerning the Foundnl.ioru of the Elementary Philosophy Propountkd in Jena by
Professor Reiniwld, includi'1, a Deferue of Skepticism against the Pretensions of
the Grit~ of Pure &ason, this lengthy work examined and criticized not
1
For Fichu~·s own interpretation of the relationship of his philosophy to Kant's, see,
above all, the "Second Introduction" to An Allempt ala New Pr-smi/Jtion of the Wi.ssm<claajts-
W.n ( 1797). In SW, I: 453-5 18 = AA I, 4: 2og--6g; English translation by John l..achs,
"Second Introduction to the Science of Knowledge," in SK, pp. 29-"85. See list of abbre-
viations, p. 6 1 •
2
Aenesidemus o&T iiher- die Fundallfi1Jk d.er oon dem Hernt Professor Reinhold in Jena geliejn--
len Elemenlar-Phiiosopllie: Nebsl einer Vn-t/teidjgung des Slupticismus gegen die An111iWtmgen d.er
v.,..,.u~ (n.p.: n.p., 1792). For an English translation of an excerpt from Aenmdemus,
see Betwun Kant and Hegel: Texl.! mthe Developmmt of Post-Kantian lthalism, ed. George di
[ J 1
2 Editor's Introduction
only Kant's own writings, but also the radically revised "system" of tran-
scendental idealism developed by K. L. Reinhold under the name
Elementarphilosophie. 3 Though Fichte had considered himself a Kant ian
ever since his first exposure to the Critique of Pure Reason in the summer
of 1790 and had also been profoundly influenced by Reinhold's project
of recasting the Critical philosophy as a rigorous system based upon a
single first principle, he had nevertheless come to harbor growing
doubts concerning the adequacy of any of the existing presentations of
transcendental philosophy. It was perhaps for this reason that Aenesi-
demus was the first work he asked to review after being invited to become
a regular contributor to the influential Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung: in
order to defend the Critical philosophy against Schulze's attack he
would, as he no doubt realized, first have to confront and allay his own
doubts concerning this same philosophy.
Fortunately for Fichte, the task of reviewing Aenesidemus coincided
with one of the rare periods of genuine leisure that he was ever to enjoy,
the months immediately following his wedding in October •793· Fichte
and his bride spent the following winter and spring in Zurich, in the
home of his new father-in-law, Hartmann Rahn, 4 and it was thanks to
this opportunity that the young philosopher was, for the first time in his
life, able to devote himself solely to philosophical reflection for an ex-
tended period. Accordingly, he turned the task of preparing his review
into an occasion for reexamining his own previous philosophical com-
mitments and for formulating a new systematic strategy of his own. 5
Giovanni and H. S. Harris (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1985), pp. 104-35.
Regarding Schulze's skepticism, see Frederick C. Beiser, The Fau of Reason: German Philos-
ophy from Kant to Fichte (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1987), pp. 266-84.
'Concerning Reinhold's "Elementary Philosophy" or "Philosophy of the Elements," see
Beiser, The Fate of Reason, pp. 226-65, and Daniel Breazeale, "Between Kant and Fichte:
Karl Leonhard Reinhold's 'Elementary Philosophy,'" Review of Mewphysics 35 (1982):
78J>-821.
Fichte first met his future wife, Johanna Rahn, while he was employed as a private tu-
tor in Zurich in 1788/89, immediately before he spent three years in Leipzig, Konigsberg,
and Warsaw. It was during the period between his first and second stays in Zurich that he
not only became acquainted with Kant's writings, but also became personally acquainted
with the author himself. By the time Fichte returned to Zurich in the summer of 1793, he
had already begun to establish a literary reputation for himself on the basis of the aston-
ishing success of his first book, the Attempt at a Critique of All Revelation and because of the
controversy surrounding his (anonymously published) writings on the French Revolution
and freedom of thought. For information concerning Fichte's career and writings before
1800, see Daniel Breazeale, "Fichte in Jena," editor's introduction to EPW.
5 Fichte's "Rezension des Aenesidemus" eventually appeared in February 1794 in Allge-
meine Literatur-Zeitung (SW,l: 1-25 = AA l, 2: 41--67; English translation inEPW, pp. 59-
77)- Concerning the significance of this text, see Daniel Breazeale, "Fichte's Aenesidemus
Review and the Transformation of German Idealism," Review of Mewphysics 34 (1981):
545-68.
Editor's Introduction 3
Thus it was in the context of a detailed, private reconsideration of
Reinhold's system that Fichte first articulated the general outlines of
his own systematic presentation of transcendental idealism. Two of its
most striking features were ( 1) a dear-sighted recognition of the role of
"practical reason" in the constitution of all experience, including its
"theore~ical" portion (that is, the portion that includes our everyday, as
well as scientific, knowledge of the external world); and (2) an insistence
that the sole adequate starting point for a "scientific" system of philos-
ophy could only be the self-positing activity of the I. 6 Not until after he
had arrived at this new standpoint did he find what he considered to be
an appropriate name for it: WissenschafLilehre, or "theory of scientific
know ledge ."7
In the midst of this fruitful engagement with the writings of Reinhold
and Kant, Fichte received an unexpected invitation to succeed Reinhold
atjena, beginning in the summer semester of 1794. His initial response
to this remarkable offer, which he was certainly in no position to decline,
was to request a postponement in assuming the post, on the grounds
that it would be inappropriate for him to embark upon his new career
without first possessing a well-articulated system of his own to "profess."
To be sure, Fichte believed that he had already discovered the starting
point and even the main outlines of such a system; yet, as he confessed
in a letter to Reinhold of March 1, 1794, he also realized that "it is still
far from being clear enough to communicate." When his request for a
postponement was denied, Fichte believed that he had no other choice
but to try to force his new system into some son of communicable
form, no matter how provisional. Thus, barely three months after his
6
See, above all, the fascinating, unpublished document prepared by Fichle for his own
use during this period, ~Eigne Meditationen iiber ElementarPhilosophie/Practische Phi-
losophie" (AA II, 3: •g--~66}. Concerning its relationship to Fichte's subsequent develop-
ment, see Reinhold Lauth, "Genese du 'Fondement de toute Ia doctrine de Ia science' de
Fichte a partir de ses 'Meditations personnelles sur l'elementarphilosophie,' " Archive.< de
Philosophie 31 ( 197 1}: 5 1-79, a German version of which, "Die Entstehung von Fichtes
'Grundlage der gesammten Wissenschaftslehre' nach den 'Eignen Meditationen iiber El-
ementarPhilosophie,' "is included in Lauth's Transz:mdenlale E:fllwicJdungslinien von Descartes
bU zu Marx und Dostojnvski (Hamburg: Meiner, 1989), pp. 155-79. See too Peter Bau-
manns, Fichta Wissenschaftslehre: Problnne ihres Anfangs (Bonn: Bouvier, 1971), pp. 8o-g7.
Compare this, however, with Fichte's own later account of the "sudden" nature of his
new discovery, as reported by Henrick Steffens and by Fichte's nephew, Eduard F~ehte,
and quoted in FichU im Gespriich, ed. Erich Fuchs, 5 vols. (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt:
Frommann-Holzboog, 1978-), 1: 63~4; English translation in EPW, pp. 12-13. Note too
that Fichte himself sometimes claimed that the ''basic insight" of the Wissenschaftskhre was
discovered several years earlier, during his brief stay in Konigsberg. See, e.g., the version
of this "di.'!COvery" reported in § 6 of the "Second Introduction to the Wissenschaftslehre"
(SW, 1: 173 = AA I, 4: ~5-26}.
7
The name first appears in Fichte's March 1, 1791, letter to Karl Bilttiger, in which he
explains that the purpose of this name is to distinguish his system from the mere "love of
knowledge," or "philosophy." Fichte's letters, which are here cited by date and recipient,
are published in Reih.e Ill of AA.
4 Editor's Introduction
I am glad that you liked the style in which the invitational work [Concerning
the Concept of the Wissenschaftslehre] was written. Still, it makes me a bit uneasy
that you concentrate so much upon the style. This text, and especially the
preface to the same, was not written all at once; in order to do be able to do
this, one must have made the material entirely one's own, so that one can
simply play with it and can freely bear the chains of the system, as if they
were not chains at all. I have not mastered my own system in this manner,
12 See the previously mentioned letter to Bottiger, March 1, 1794: "I can now see for
myself something I have known for some time: namely, how inconvenient for teacher and
student alike it is to have to lecture without a textbook. This only serves to encourage the
sort of thoughtless note-taking I would like to abolish entirely-at least so far as my own
lectures are concerned. None of the available texts by Kant or Reinhold suits my purpose,
nor can I write a textbook of my own between now and the end of next month. Thus the
following expedient occurred to me: what if I were to distribute my textbook in install-
ments during the course as a maniLScript for the ILSe of my listeners (since I absolutely wish to
delay for a few years any presentation of my system for the public at large)? In any event,
I would like to defy the usual sneers with which printed texts that are supposed to be
treated as manuscripts are greeted. Isn't this the same as when a professor reads from his
own lecture notes? In order to show that I am serious about this, the text should not be pub-
lished in a regular trade edition at all, but should be distributed only on my instructions to my
students and others whom I might designate to receive it."
" Fichte to Goethe, September 30, 1794.
14
Grundlage der gesamten Wissenschaftslehre [henceforth GWL] (SW, I: 86-328 = AA I, 2:
251-461; translated into English as "Foundations of the Entire Science of Knowledge" by
Peter Heath in SK, pp. 89-286).
6 Editor's Introduction
however, and it will be difficult for me ever to accomplish this, for it is pro-
found. Nevertheless, I will wait for this to happen and will devote effort to
the task. Concerning this same point, you will not be satisfied with the text-
book I am now writing (which you can read when you arrive). To be sure, I
could have written better, but I had to let it go as it stood, since the printer
needed the manuscript and I needed a text for my lectures. 15
For some reason (quite possibly the welcome prospect of income from
sales), 16 Fichte soon abandoned his original resolve not to issue a public
edition of his printed lectures. Accordingly, in September 1794, the first
half of the Foundations of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre (Parts I and II) was
publicly advertised and offered for sale by the Jena firm of Christian Gab-
ler, albeit with a title page that included the note "a manuscript for the
use of his students."
In the winter semester of 1794"95 Fichte offered two private courses:
one in which he dealt with the "practical" portion of his new system
(Part III of the Foundations) and another devoted to "specifically theo-
retical" aspects of the Wissenschaftslehre. 17 It appears that in these courses
he continued his practice of having his text printed and distributed in
installments to his students. In any case, by midsummer of 1795 both
these two new texts (Part III of the Foundations, as well as the Outline of
the Distinctive Character of the Wissenschaftslehre with Respect to the Theo-
retical Faculty) were available for public distribution and sale, 18 though,
"Letter to F. A. Weisshuhn, July •794· The same point is repeated in other letters of
the period. See, e.g., Fichte's letter to Goethe of June 21, 1794, as well as his July 2, 1795,
letter to Reinhold, in which he begs his correspondent to "bear in mind that what you have
received so far is a manuscript for the use of my students. It was hastily written while I was
busy with my lectures (in the winter semester I had three lecture courses, all of which had
to be worked out almost completely) and with a thousand other diverse activities. I had to
see that the written sheets came to an end at the same time as the lectures."
16 See the comment in Fichte's May 26, 1794, letter to his wife, in which, after complain-
ing about his meager income, he went on to express his hopes of earning some additional
money from his writings. After reponing that he was engaged "in writing a book for my
lectures," he added that he had just received from his publisher a payment of "2 •!. louis
d'or = 2 1 Zurich florins" for the first pages. A bit later in the same paragraph Fichte said
he hoped to earn as much as 500 florins from his literary activities during the first se-
mester. By June •4-17, '794• in another letter to Johanna, he had already raised the es-
timate of how much he expected to earn from his textbook to "6oo florins." In this same
letter he also divulged his plans to write two more texts ("uhrbUcher"-Pt. III of the Foun-
dations and the Outline of the Di.ttinctive Character of the Wi.s.seruchaftslehre with &spect to the
Theoretical Faculty) during the winter semester, the income from which would, he antici-
pated, alleviate his precarious financial situation. From these passages it appears, first of
all, that Fichte almost immediately abandoned his original plan not to publish the Grund-
lage, and second, that purely financial considerations played at least some role in this
decision.
17
Grundri{J des Eigentumlichen der Wi.s.seruchaftslehre in RUksicht auf das theoretische Vt'nll(jgen
[henceforth GEWL) (SW, 1: 331-411 = AA I, 3: 137-208; English translation in EPW, pp.
24~-3o6).
8
A one-volume edition of the Foundations, including all three parts, plus the preface to
the whole, originally issued along with Pan III, was published by Gabler in September
Editor's Introduction 7
once again, their title pages bore the somewhat unconvincing disclaimer
that they were "manuscripts for the use of his students." This caveat was
repeated in the general preface to the Foundations, in which the author
began with the reminder that "this book was not really intended for the
public" and then went on to confess:
The author believes he owes it to the public to declare explicitly that the
present work, which stems from his lectures, is incomplete in his own eyes..
It will still be several years before he can hope to present this work to the
public in a worthy form. Until then, he requests that the book be considered
no more than a manuscript the author had printed for the convenience of
his students, considering that preferable to having them copy it down as he
lectured. It is for this reason that he is reluctant to see it submitted to public
criticism. 20
•795· Note that Fichte himself always treated the Outline as an integral part of the system
sketched out in the Foundalions. Hence, when a second edition of the latter was finally pub-
lished in 1802, it appeared in a single volume along with the Outline.
19 SW, 1: 87 = AA I, 2: 252.
20
This advertisement first appeared in the October 1, 1794, "lntelligenzblatt" of the
Allgemeine Literalur-Zeilung and is reprinted in AA I, 2: 183.
8 Editor's Introduction
to derive from these first principles what Fichte took to be the assump-
tions of the CritiiJue of Pure Reason, namely, space, time, and the manifold
of sensible intuition) represents an extension into the narrower field of
"theoretical philosophy." Accordingly, for the next few semesters Fichte
turned his attention almost exclusively to the elaboration of the "prac-
tical" portions of his system-specifically, to an examination and pre-
sentation of its implications for the theory of "natural right" (or natural
law) and for ethics. 21
schaftslehre? Surely not the principles? If you are dissatisfied with the manner of deduction,
and if you are speaking of the published Foundations, then you are quite right to find much
that is unsatisfactory. This text was never intended for anyone but my own students.
Friend and foe alike have generally overlool<ed this" (Fichte to Schmidt, Man:h 17, 1799).
I
t
25 SW, 1: 420 = AA I, 4: 184.
26
An especially noteworthy example is provided by the Vergleichung de vom Herrn Prof.
Schmid aufgestellten Systems mit dtrr Wissmschaftslehu, which Fichte published in the Phillr
sophischesjoum.al in the spring of 1796 (SW, ll: 421-58 = AA l, 3: 235-66; partial English
translation, "A Comparison between Prof. Schmid's System and the Wissmschajhlehre," in
EPW, pp. 31~40).
I
10 Editor's Introduction
next few years (the Foundations of Natural Right and the System of Ethical
Theory) with succinct reformulations of the basic tenets of his philosophy.
Such essays and passages, however, were never intended to be any-
thing more than provisional measures, temporary means for correcting
the· public's judgment of the Wissenschaftslehre until such time as he could
replace the first, inadequate presentation of the foundations of the same
with a more adequate and less easily misunderstood new presentation.
Thus he frequently announced his intention to provide, at the first op-
portunity, an entirely new presentation in his private lectures. 27
Before turning to these new lectures, however, let us pause to consider
more closely the nature of Fichte's dissatisfaction with his previous pre-
sentation. What did he consider to be defective about the Foundations,
and how did he himself account for these shortcomings?
The chief shortcoming of the first presentation of the foundations of
the Wissenschaftslehre, according to its author, was a lack of systematic
unity. "It gives off sfarks of spirit," he confessed to Reinhold, "but it is
not a single flame." 2 In other words, his complaint concerned the form
rather than the content of the presentation (though, of course, for any-
one who attaches as much importance to "systematic form" as Fichte
did, this is by no means an inconsequential objection).
Fichte offered a variety of explanations for the formal inadequacy of
the Foundations and the defective character of its presentation. First of
all, as we have already seen, he called attention to the (admittedly self-
imposed) external pressure he was under at the time, and specifically, to
the deleterious effect of the deadlines dictated by the printer. And in-
deed, one would expect that a work written under such circumstances,
in which the separate pages went to the printer before the ink had had
time to dry and the first sections were printed and circulated before
the later ones were even drafted, might well display a certain lack of for-
mal unity.
Second, he called attention to the fact that the Foundations was written
at a time when the "discovery" of the Wissenschaftslehre was still fresh (if
not still under way) and when the basic outlines, to say nothing of the
details, of his system were not yet firmly fixed in his own mind. In this
vein, he chastised Reinhold for paying too much attention to the pre-
27
See, e.g., the following passage from a letter written from Bremen in August 17g6 by
one of Fichte's ex-students, Johann Smidt, to J. F. Herbart, who was then attending Fichte's
lectures in Jena: "Also write me something concerning Fichte's theory of freedom. I do not
know how it looks now, since he has revised it at least three times. The last I heard from
him in Jena was that he was no longer entirely satisfied with his previous ideas on this
topic-though he himself did not at that time know what he would replace them with"
(Fuchs, ed., Fichu im Gesprach, 1: 370).
28
Letter to Reinhold, March 21, 1797: "Your evaluation of mJ presentation, as it has
appeared so far, is much too favorable. Or perhaps the content has allowed you to overlook
the deficiency of the presentation. I consider it to be most imperfect. Yes, I know that it
gives off sparks of spirit, but it is not a singk flame."
Editor's Introduction I I
knowledge runs from Wolff to Kant and from Kant to Reinhold"; hence the demand for
a "first principle," which is such a salient feature of the first presentation of the Wissen-
schaftslehre, is, at the same time, the most backward-looking aspect of it. "Fichtes System-
entwicklung in seinen Jenenser Vorlesungen," Blauer fur Deutsche Philosophie 13 (1939):
168.
12 Editor's Introduction
"'"Prompted by the circumstances of the time, the primary aim of the earlier version
was to show that all our consciousness has its foundation in the eternally valid laws of our
thinking. In addition to this, however, this new presentation also provides us with the in-
telligible world as a solid substrate for the empirical one" (AA IV, 2: 150; see below, p. 314).
Tatsache is the ordinary German word for "fact"; Talhandlung is a word Fichte invented to
designate the (self-)productive deed of the I, and in this volume it is translated as "Act."
6
' Letter to Reinhold, April 22, •799·
14 Editor's Introduction
the basis for his lectures on the Wissenschaftslehre. " 37 Accordingly, for
the summer semester of 1796 he announced a private course on "the
foundations of transcendental philosophy (or, in the vernacular, Wissen-
schaftslehre).'''"8 In fact, however, he canceled his classes for the summer
semester of 1796 and did not lecture again until the winter semester
of 1796/97. Though the reasons for this cancellation are unclear, at
least one explanation may be that Fichte found himself unable to com-
plete his total revision of the presentation of the first principles of the
Wissenschaftslehre in time for the new semester and was unwilling simply
to repeat his lectures of 1794'95. 39 Therefore, it seems likely that he de-
voted most of his effort during the summer to this "new presentation."
In any event, the course catalog for the winter semester of 1796/97
announced that Fichte would be offering a private course on "the foun-
dations of transcendental philosophy (the Wissenschaftslehre) according to
a new method and in a more expeditious fashion, according to a manu-
script, but based upon his books. [ ... ]During the vacation he will pub-
licly announce the plan of his course on transcendental philosophy." 40
Before the opening of the semester, which officially began on October
17, Fichte wrote to Reinhold that he was busy with "two courses I have
taught before, but which I am working on as if I had never worked them
out before.'-4 1 That Fichte actually accomplished this total revision, at
least insofar as his lectures on the foundations of transcendental philos-
ophy were concerned, is confirmed by another letter to Reinhold writ-
ten at the end of the winter semester (March 1797), in which he re-
marked: "I have completely reworked my presentation, just as if I had
37
J. F. Herbart to Johann Smidt, July 1, 17g6. The passage from the letter in which this
report is included is worth quoting at length, simply as evidence of how completely
Fichte's beuer students were caught up in the spirit of his enterprise. Thus Herbart writes
to his friend that "this summer I am chiefly occupied with the task of trying to come to
terms once and for all with the WW..nsdtaftslehre-i.e. (though I say this in confidence), to
construct one for myself. For the fact is that, even though I would never have amounted
to anything at all without Fichte, I am unable to recognize the unqualified truth of even
a single page of his book-in the form in which it now srands. I feel that it is permissible
for me to whisper this candidly to a friend, and the best evidence that this is permissible
is surely the fact that Fichte himself has long announced his intention to use a new manu-
script as the basis for his lectures on the Wisseruchajulehre next winter (since the course was
not offered this summer). Hence my desire first to seek my salvation on my own is all the
greater" (Fuchs, ed., Fichlt im Gespriich, I: 36o).
38 In the advance course caralog (ciUalogus proelectiunum), this course was described as
lation of the Wiuenschaftslehre now met~Jodn.,: La Doctrine de Ia Selena Now Metlwdo, suiui de
ESJai d'une Nouvelle PrlsmJaliLm de Ia DocJjne de Ia Science (Lausanne: Editions de I'Age
d'Homme, •9B9). P· •3· [
40 "privalim: hora III-IV fundnmeniJJ pliilosophiae trans.<eendentalis (die Wissenschaftslehre)
nova m.etlwdo, etlonge o;peditiori, secundum dic141a ad/Ubitis suis Ubris txponet. [ • .. ] Puhlice per
feriaJ rationem lectinnum suarum in philosophiam tranSJcmdmialem reddet.
41 Letter to Reinhold, August ~7. 17g6.
Editor's Introduction 15
never worked it out at aJI and as if I knew nothing about the old pre-
sentation." In this, as well as in each of the two following winter se-
mesters, Fichte lectured on the Wissenschaftslehre nova metlwdo every
weekday afternoon from three to four, from which one can calculate
that the entire course was divided into approximately sixty one-hour
lectures. 42
Before proceeding to discuss the two subsequent series of lectures on
Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo, however, let us pause to address a ques-
tion raised by the course catalog's description of the lectures of 1796/g7:
Why did Fichte continue to describe this profoundly different presen-
tation of the first principles of his system as "based upon his books"?
Two, by no means incompatible, answers suggest themselves. First, it is
possible that by acquainting his students with two different versions of
what he always insisted was only one and the same system, he meant to
demonstrate a point often emphasized in his public and private com-
ments on his various presentations of the Wissenschaftslehre: the impor-
tance of attaching as little value as possible to the "letter" of his system
and of seeking instead to discover its underlying "spirit."43 In Fichte's
estimation, it was by no means a disadvantage for a philosopher to alter
the terminology in which his system was presented; instead, it was a
dear virtue and, indeed, for an author such as Fichte, a virtual necessity.
Hence he often called attention to his own, explicit decision to eschew
any fixed terminology in the presentation of his system and frequently
emphasized the fact that "the Wissenschaftslehre possesses no special ter-
minology of its own." 44 And indeed, to the occasional despair of scholars
and students, each successive version of his system ( 179af94, •7w/95·
17g6/gg, 18oii2, 18o4J'5, etc.) possesses its own distinctive vocabulary
and method of presentation. On the one hand, it is easy to imagine the
extreme confusion that must have been produced in the minds of
students attending Fichte's lectures on Wissenschaftslehre nova metlwdo
when they turned to the Foundations of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre for as-
sistance in unriddling the difficulties of the former! On the other hand,
42
See the discussion of this point by Erich Fuchs in the introduction to his edition of the
Krause transcript: J. G. Fichte, Wis:senschaftskhr~ '/WOO m11tlwdo. Kolkgnacluchrift Chr. Fr.
Kmu.s~ 1798/gg (Hamburg: Meiner, tg811}, p. xii.
'"This point is emphasized in the brief preface that Fichte wrote in August 1801 for the
second, one-volume edition of the Foundlllions and Oulline: ''The majority of the philo-
sophical public still does not seem so well prepared for this new point of view that they will
find it useless to have the same content available in two very different forms, nor will it be
useless for them to learn to recognize this identity of content for themselves" (SW, I:
85 = AA l, 2: 461; English translation, EPW, pp. 238--39}.
44
Fichte to Reinhold, July 4• •797· See too the previously quoted remarks on this topic
contained in the preface to the first edition of the FoundatUms and in the preface to the
second edition of Concerning the Canup!., in which Fichte reaffirms his initial decision to
present his system in a «a form that shuns the fixed letter" and «protects its inner spirit"
(SW, I: 36 = AA l, 11: 1611).
16 Editor's Introduction
48 See Jacob's preface to Fkhte, Nacllg~lasst!fl€ &hriflnl, Vol. II: Schriflnl aus dm jahrm
179o-18oo (Berlin: Junker und Diinnhaupt, 1937), p. xxix. Note, however, that the an-
nouncement of the 1 7g8/99 lectures, which, thanlr.s to the discovery of the Krause tran-
script, we can now be certain were devoted to a presentation of the Wissm.uhaftsW.r• nova
melh«Ui, also mentions that in his lectures Fichte will be "utilizing his boolr.s" ("tamen sui
libris"), though they are not mentioned by name.
49
AA IV, 2: 5· Commenting on this description, the editors of AA IV, ~ cautiously ob-
serve that it is quite possible that Fichte simply meant "to emphasize that he still adhered
to the fundamental thoughts of the printed Wissmschaftslehr•, so that the latter could still
serve as a textbook for his lectures."
..., "privaJim: horn Il/-JV fundamenla philosophiae tra~lu (di• Wissm.tdllifislehr~)
nova 1n11t.h.o<U>, adhibiJis tamen suu lihriJ, exponet."
1
~ The evidence for this is a comment in an October ~4. t']g8,letter from Krause to his
father, in which he mentions that the class will begin the next day. The relevant passage is
published by Erich Fuchs in his introduction to the Krause transcript, p. x.
18 Editor's Introduction
I will for the present proceed no further with the systematic elaboration of
this system; instead, I will first try to elaborate more fully what has already
been discovered and to make it completely clear and obvious to every im-
partial person. A first step in this direction has already been taken in the
previously mentioned journal, and I will proceed with this project to the
extent that my academic duties permit. I have heard from several sources
that many persons have found these essays illuminating, and if the public
attitude toward the new theory has not been more generally altered, this
might well be due to the fact that the journal in question seems not to have
a very wide circulation. With the same aim in mind, just as soon as time
permits, I intend to publish a new attempt at a purely and strictly systematic
presentation of the foundations of the Wissenschaftslehre. 55
Fichte explicitly reaffirmed this same plan a year later, in his March 17,
•799· letter to J. E. C. Schmidt, where he remarks: "For three years I
have been working on and lecturing from a new version [of the Wissen-
2
' One should recall that all the major systematic works Fichte published while at Jena
(the Grundlage, the Grundri/3, the Naturrechl, and the SiUenlehre) were first presented to his
students in the form of lectures.
"See Fichte's March 21, 1797, letter to Reinhold, in which he remarks: "I intend to
have this revised version published in our Philosophischesjoumal."
"'Versuch einer neuen Darslellung der Wissenschaftslehre (SW, 1: 419-534 = AA I, 4: 183-
281).
"SW, 1: 37 = AA I, 2: 163.
Editor's Introduction 19
schnftslehre ], the first chapter of which has been printed in the Journal. I
intend to have this new presentation published next winter. If you still
take exception here and there, I would advise you to wait for this new
. . ,,
reVISIOn.
By the "next winter," however, Fichte had other things to worry about
and was living in Berlin, where he had sought refuge in the wake of the
Atheism Controversy. Since he had no academic appointment in Berlin,
Fichte had to make plans to support himself purely from the proceeds
of his literary activities, and among the literary projects to which he
frequently referred in his correspondence of this period is the plan to
publish the "New Presentation" of the first principles of the Wissen-
schnftslehre. Other, previously unanticipated projects, however-such as
defending himself against the charge of atheism and writing The Vocalion
of Man (two projects that were, in fact, intimately related)-took priority
during his first year in Berlin.
In any case, in August 1799, shortly after he arrived in Berlin, Fichte
wrote to his wife (who had remained behind to settle their affairs in
Jena): "My plans are currently as follows: As soon as the printing of my
Vocation of Man is finished, I shall return tojena, where I will spend the
winter working on my philosophy of religion and, so far as it proves pos-
sible, on the new version of my Wisseruchaftslehre. I will publish the
former by subscription. Even on the wurst scenario, these works should
earn enough for us to be able to live well from them for a few years." 56
In another letter to his wife, written a bit later in the fall of the same
year, he returned to the subject of his literary projects and remarked:
"In addition, I have on hand a fine manuscript, the new version of the Wis-
seruchnftslehre, which can also be made salable with a minimum of effort
and for which I also hope to fetch a good price. Thus there is no reason
at all for you to be concerned about our support." 57
Such remarks indicate that, though Fichte had to postpone his plans
for publishing the new version of the foundations of the Wisseruchnfts-
lehre, he had by no means abandoned them at this point. Furthermore,
it is clear, first of all, that he believed that some revision would be
needed before the text would be ready for the press, and second, that he
did not anticipate that the needed revision of this "fine manuscript"
would require much additional effort.
By the beginning of the next year, however, other projects had inter-
vened, and though Fichte still intended to revise the "New Presenta-
tion" for publication, this project appears last on a list of four he
mentioned in a letter to his publisher,]. F. Cotta.5 8 Here Fichte describes
56
Letter to johanna Fichte, August 20-24, 1799·
57
Letter to johanna Fichte, October 28-November 2, '799·
58
Fichte to Cotta, January 13, 1800. In this letter Fichte lists his current projects in the
following order: (1) a critique of the new French Constitution, accompanied by clearer
20 Editor's lmroducdon
the new version as "a new (much clearer and smoother) presentation of
the Wi.ssenschnftslehre (perhaps as a commentary or something similar, in-
asmuch as a new, generally unaltered reprint of the sold-out first Wis-
senschnftslehre is scheduled to appear). The manuscript has been finished
for years; I used it in my lectures. It is desired by everyone who knows of
its existence. It cannot appear, however, without a proper revision."
From the last comment it appears that, Fichte's earlier assurances to his
wife notwithstanding, he was beginning to have second thoughts about
how much work would be needed to put the "New Presentation" into
publishable form.
As it turned out, Fichte devoted the first half of 1800 to projects not
even alluded to in his January 13 letter to Cotta: an essay for the Philo-
sophisches J{IUrnal, in which he once again stated his views on the rela-
tionship between religion and philosophy, 59 and an entirely new book
on political economy, which was published in November under the title
The Closed Commercial State. 60 Consequently, he was not able to return to
the projected revision of the Wi.ssenschnftslehre noua methodo until the faU
of 1800, though he assured Cotta (in a letter of August 16, 18oo): "This
coming winter I hope to get to work for you on the editing of the new
version of the Wi.ssenschnftslehre, which has been finished for years."
Even then, Fichte did not turn immediately to this oft-postponed
project, but first composed a sharply critical review of C. G. Bardili's
Outlines of Primary Logic, a project to which he was driven by Reinhold's
unanticipated departure from his period of short-lived enthusiasm for
Fichte's Wissenschnjtslehre and conversion to the standpoint of Bardili's
"rational reatism.' 061 By the end of October 18oo, however, Fichte had
finished the Bardili review and was at last ready to set to work in earnest
on the task of revising the manuscript of the Wi.ssenschnftslehre noua
methodo.
It appears that Fichte's decision to dedicate the winter of 1800 to this
effort was, once again, dictated at least in part by external circum-
stances, namely, by a request to give private lessons on the Wissen-
presenlation o£ his own views concerning the nature o£ a proper constitution; (2) a public
reply to Jacobi's Opm letln lo F~hu; (g) a popular introduction to the Wwerucllaft.slehrt, to
be titled A Crysl41 Clear Report lo the General Publie Concerning the Aclual Essence of My Phi·
losophy; and (4) the new presenlation o£ the Wwerucllaft.slthre. Only the third o£ these
projects ever came to fruition. Fichte's Sonnmklu.rer Berichl an das Grassert PubUAum iiJNr das
We.sen tier neue.slen PhUo.sopi&U was eventually published in the spring o£ t8o 1, albeit by a
different publisher (SW,II: 323-420 = AA I, 7: 185-268; English tr311$lation by John Bot-
terman and William Rasch in Philosophy of Gnman Idealism, ed. Ernst Behler {New York:
Continuum, 1987], pp. 39-115). [
Aur nnem Privatschrtiben (SW, V: 377--g6 = AA I, 6: 36g-8g).
I
59
l
60
lkr ge.sdaltment HandelstooJ (SW, III: 387-513 = AA I, 7: 37-164). l
'" The issue of the P~ Joumal conlaining Fichte's review o£ Bardili appeared
in November 18oo. "Rezension von Bardilis Grundriss der ersten Logik" (SW, II: 4go-- ,
503 = AA I, 6: 433-5o). -
l
I
l
Editor's Introduction 2I
62
See the preface to the second edition of Concerning the Concept (SW, I, 32-33 = AA l,
2: lsg-6o).
63
Fichte to Schelling, October 22, 1800. See too his letter to Schelling, November 15,
1800.
22 Editor's Introduction
you." Fichte then went on to recommend that the publisher make plans
for a large edition of the work and to suggest that it might, at least ini-
tially, be published by subscription. Along with the letter to Cotta, Fichte
included the text of a lengthy public announcement, which he wished to
have published in appropriate journals. This neglected document,
which is of capital importance for an understanding of Fichte's entire
philosophical development, reads (in part) as follows:
The Wissenschaftslehre has been lying before the German public for six
years now. It has received a very mixed reception: for the most part, it has
met with vehement and passionate opposition, though it has also attracted
some praise from inadequately trained people and has even found a few
gifted followers and co-workers. For the past five years, 64 I have had in my
desk a new version of the Wissenschaftslehre, which I have been employing in
my classroom lectures on this science. This winter I am busy revising this
new presentation, which I hope to be able to publish this coming spring.
I wish very much that the public would pruuisionally (that is, until such
time as it becomes possible for them to convince themselves on this point)
accept the following two assurances from me, and I hope that people will
keep both of these points in mind while reading the new presentation: First
of all, with the exception of a few individuals (not counting my own students
and immediate listeners, to whom the present remarks are not directed),
hardly any knowledge whatsoever concerning the Wissenschaftslehre is currently
to be found among the educated public. Second, this science represents a
thoroughly new discovery, the very Idea of which did not exist previously and
can be obtained only from the Wissenschaftslehre itself. This new science can
be judged only on its own terms.
Concerning the first point: The text that appeared six years ago and was
published as a manuscript for the use of my listeners, namely, the Founda-
tions of the Entire Wissenschaftslehre, has, to the best of my knowledge, been
understood by almost no one and has been made use of by hardly anyone at
all, apart from my own students. This is a text that does not appear to be
able to dispense very easily with oral assistance. It seems to me, however,
that in my [Foundations oj] Natural Right and [System oj] Ethical Theory I have
been somewhat more successful in presenting my thoughts concerning phi-
losophy in general as well. Nevertheless, to judge by all the comments I have
heard on this topic since the publication of these two works (including those
comments that concern these very works), it would appear that even these
books have not helped the public to advance much further in its under-
standing of the main point at issue. I am not sure why this is so-whether
it is because people have usually skipped the introductions and the first sec-
tions of these two books, or whether it is because it is simply not really pos-
sible to provide the remote conclusions of my system (taken in isolation
from the premises from which they are derived) with the same degree of
64 Taken literally, this would imply that the manuscript of the WiJsenschaftslehre nova
methodo was first composed in the fall of 1795, a claim that is difficult to reconcile with all
the other evidence in favor of a somewhat later dating.
Editor's Introduction 23
self-evidence one can easily give to the first premises themselves. The only
texts that seem to have been better understood and appear to have suc-
ceeded in raising high expectations concerning the Wi.sseruchaftslehre on the
part of many open-minded people are the two "Introductions" to the Wi.s-
seruchaftslehre, as well as the first chapter of a "New Presentation" of this sys-
tem, which appeared in the Philosophical journal. At best, however, these
essays can do no more than convey a preliminary concept of my project; the
project itself, however, is by no means actually implemented and brought to
completion in these essays. [ ... ]
l have previously stated elsewhere65 that, for my part, l would be willing
to shoulder all the blame for the nearly universal lack of understanding
(concerning the Wi.ssenschaftslehre] that has prevailed in the past, if, by doing
so, I could only move the public to grapple anew with the issues in dispute.
As a result of long practice with the most diverse types of individuals, the
originator of this science believes he has at last acquired the facility to com-
municate his science to others; and he intends to do so in the form of a new
system, one that was not discovered by means of any further elaboration of
the previously existing version of this science, but was discovered in an en-
tirely different manner. [ ... ]
By means of this new presentation, which I guarantee will be intelligible
to anyone who possesses the capacity for understanding science, l hope that
the philosophical public will finally have an occasion to COttkl to terms in all
seriousness with the Wi.ssenschaftslehre. [ •.• ]
ln conclusion, I hope to make this new presentation so clear and so in-
telligible that it will require no further assistance in this respect and no
newer and even clearer presentation will be needed. I will worry later about
such matters as scientific elegance, the strictly systematic arrangement of
the parts and the exclusion of any foreign elements, the adoption of a pre-
cise terminology, and the creation of a symbolic system of pure concepts
(such as that "universal characteristic" which was already sought by Leibniz
and which first becomes possible only subsequent to the Wi.ssenschaftslehre).
That is to say, l will attend to these matters only after I have found that the
age is making some use of this new presentation of the Wi.sseruchaftslehre
and has thereby made itself receptive to a purely scientific presentation of
the same. 66
remark in Fichte's January 31, 1801, letter to Friedrich Johannsen: "I will soon publish my
new presentation of the Wissensclwftslehre, which has existed in manuscript for four years
and which I used to lecture on in Jena."
68 This work, Friedrich Nicolai~ Leben und sonderbare Meinungen (SW, VIII: 3-93 = AA I,
7: 367-463), was apparently composed during the early spring of 18o1 and was published
in May of the same year.
69
J. G. Fickle~ Antwortschreiben an Herrn Professor Reinhold (SW, II: 504-34 = AA I, 7:
291-324) was probably written at the beginning of April 1801. It was published at the end
of the same month.
70 In his May g, 1801, letter to Cotta, Fichte suggested postponing publication of the
"New Presentation" until the fall book fair, and then went on to add: "Since the greater
public has no concept of what I actually want to accomplish in this book, they can also wait
for it until after Michael mas •So 1." This ominous predi~tion was made explicit in Fichte's
next letter to Cotta (August 8, t8ot), which began as follows: "I have found so much to do
in the new version-which actually, in many respects, represents a new discovery of the
Editor's Introduction 25
77 Neue Bearbeitung der Wmenschaftslehre (AA II, 5: 331-402). This manuscript was com-
posed between October and December 1800.
78
This is also the verdict reached by the editors of the Halle transcript of the Willen·
schaftslehre nova methodo, who conclude that "in his draft of the Wmenschaftslehre of October
1800, [Fichte) had already abandoned the systematic conception of the presentation nova
methodo" (AA IV, 2: 11).
79
Fichte to Johanna Fichte, November 2, 1799.
28 Editor's Introduction
and Metaphysics") at the end of the winter semester of 17g8/99. As the editors of AA IV,
4 point out, Fichte's lecture notes, and especially his remarks on § g~~ of Platner's book,
provide dramatic evidence of a sudden change in his theory of intersubjectivity in the
spring of 1798: whereas the old theory (similar to the one contained in the System of Ethics)
is expounded in AA II, 4: ~ 12-27, pp. ~a8-3o of the same text introduce the first version
of the new theory (anticipating that contained in Book Ill of The Vocation of Man). Pre-
sumably, it was precisely this new understanding of ~the intelligible world" which Fichte
intended to expound in the lectures on philosophy of religion he announced for the sum-
mer semester of •799· Unfonunately, because of the Atheism Controversy and ensuing
events, these Lectures were never delivered.
82
}aL:obi an FichU, March 3-a 1, 1799 (AA Ill, ~: 224-81). For a partial English transla-
tion of this document, which played a key role in the development of post-Kantian phi-
losophy, see ~open Letter to Fichte," trans. Diana I. Behler, in Philosophy of German ltka/Um,
PP·85 ''!rl'·
Fichte to Reinhold, September 18, 1Boo. The mention of a "retraction before my stu-
dents a year and a half ago" is presumably a reference to the above-mentioned changes in
the theory of intersubjectivity which Fichte introduced at the conclusion of his lectures on
logic and metaphysics in the winter semester of 1798199.
30 Editor's Introduction
might be able to achieve his aim by providing the public with several dif-
ferent presentations of his system. Thus, immediately after exclaiming to
Reinhold, in a letter of March 2 1, 1797, "How many more times will I
revise my presentation!" he went on: "Nature has made up for my lack
of precision by granting me the ability to view things in a number of dif-
ferent ways and by endowing me with a fairly agile mind." By this time,
however, he had already come to realize that "the presentation of the
Wissenschaftslehre will require by itself an entire lifetime. The only pros-
pect that is able to shake me is the thought of dying before I have com-
pleted it."85
At the time that he made these remarks, Fichte still hoped to be able
to publish a new presentation-or better, a series of new presenta-
tions-of the Wissenschaftslehre. And as we have seen, he continued to
pursue this goal throughout his first years in Berlin. By 1 8o4, however,
he had reached a momentous decision: to continue his striving for an
ever more adequate, scientific presentation of his system, but to re-
nounce for the foreseeable future any plans to publish these new pre-
sentations. His reasons for reaching this decision are nowhere stated
more clearly and poignantly than in a document he drafted for the royal
cabinet of ministers to the Prussian government on January g, 1804. 86
This document, which testifies eloquently to Fichte's determination to
avoid any possible misunderstanding of his philosophy on the part of
the public, and which also explains how and why he could continue to
revise his presentation of his system until the year of his death, without
any prospect of publishing it, is here translated in its entirety:
Pro memoria:
A system, the external form of which has recently been brought lO com-
pletion, is now available which prides itself on being completely self-
contained, unalterable, and immediately self-evidem and is able lO provide
all the other sciences with their first principles and guidelines. This system
thereby promises lO eliminate forever all conflict and misunderstanding
from the domain of science and to direct the human mind (which obtains its
proper strengthening only within this system) wward the field within which
it can make endless progress toward ever-higher clarity. This field consists
of the empirical world, within which this system promises lO provide the hu-
man mind with an infallible guide.
Despite the fact that, under the name "philosophy," such a science has
been obscurely amicipated and sought since the very beginning of all sci-
entific endeavor, it is nevertheless obvious that such a science has never be-
fore existed nor even been attempted. Indeed, the entire wisdom and
enlightenment of our own day consists in the bold denial of the very possi-
bility of any such knowledge. Thus it is clear that, if this discovery is really
85
Letter to Reinhold, July 2, •795·
86
In AA III, 5: 2 22-24.
32 Editor's Introduction
what it claims to be, it paves the way for a rebirth of mankind and of all
human relationships, a rebirth such as has never before been even possible.
By observing the so-called literary public for many years, the discoverer
[of this system] has become sufficiently confident that the conditions nec-
essary for understanding a system of this sort have, for the most part, been
destroyed by the academic method that has prevailed until now, and he is
also convinced that more errors are in general circulation at the present
time than perhaps ever before. Consequently, he has no intention of
publishing his discovery in its present form and exposing it to general mis-
understanding and distortion. He wishes to confine himself to oral commu-
nication, so that misunderstanding can thereby be detected and eliminated
on the spot.
Nevertheless, he does not wish to forego the advantages of the judgment
of experts in such matters. Since he lives and lectures in a city where there
is an academy of science founded by Leibniz, which still preserves among its
members some with an interest in speculation, he cherishes the wish of hav-
ing this same academy serve as his judge. Accordingly, if only so that this
academy will consider the task of sufficient importance and will take it se-
riously, he proposes that it be charged by His Majesty the King with the task
of examining the Wissenschaftslehre. Following the example of another acad-
emy (namely, the Paris Academy), the academy may then appoint commission-
ers to this task; and, in order for these commissioners to become acquainted
with the object of their examination in the only way possible and in the only
way I myself would consider conclusive, they would have to attend my lectures.
I have moved the location of my lectures to my own lodgings, but if the
commissioners-to-be should consider it beneath their dignity as public offi-
cials to come to my home, then I am prepared to hold my lectures in any
appropriate place designated by the academy. In order to protect myself in
advance against any negative judgment concerning the form [of my philos-
ophy], I reserve the right to present, first to the academy and its commis-
sioners, and then, if necessary, to the public, a universally comprehensible
and immediately illuminating report concerning how the Wissenschaftslehre
cannot be judged.
PART II
The Discovery and Publication of Two Student Transcripts
of the Wissenschaft.slehre nova methodo
Given the importance that Fichte himself long attached to the Wissen-
schaft.slehre nova methodo, as well as its obvious significance for any under-
standing of the overall development of the Wissenschaftslehre, it is
certainly regrettable that his own manuscript of these lectures has not
survived (or, in any case, has not been discovered). Nevertheless, we do
possess two different, detailed transcripts of Fichte's lectures, on the ba-
sis of which it is possible to gain a very good idea of the content of his
1796/gg lectures on "the foundations of transcendental philosophy."
Before the era of tape recorders and duplicating machines, carefully
transcribed and bound copies of lecture courses played an important
role in German university life. Indeed, some students and exstudents
amassed large private collections of these so-called KoUegnachschriften.
This was especial.ly true in Jena during the 17gos, when it was a com-
mon practice for several students to pool their energy and resources by
contributing all of their class notes or transcripts from a particular
course to the production of a polished, continuously written transcript
of the lectures in question. From this final version it was then possible to
make additional copies. Indeed, some students routinely augmented
their income by preparing transcripts of lecture courses and selling
copies.88
Student transcripts of several of Fichte's courses from the Jena period
(as weU as even more from his later years) were already known to exist in
the nineteenth century, and thus it was not unrealistic of scholars to
87
Die Anweisung zum seligen Leben odn- auch du &ligionslehre (SW, V: 399-400).
88
A clear reference to this practice occurs in the August 13, •799, letter of Hans Bostel
to Friedrich Carl von Savigny, who had apparently asked his friend, Bostel, who was then
a student in Jena, to obtain for him a transcript of Fichte's lectures. The relevant passage
in Bostel's letter reads as follows: "I was unable to find a notebook on the Wwenschaftslehre;
therefore, I commissioned a copy of one that is supposed to be very good and accurate. It
will be very long, and thus the cost of copying it is 4 thalers-not including the cost of the
paper. You will not mind that it is rather expensive, since it is so long. Another person, who
also had a copy made by the same man, paid the same amount. I will pay for it out of what
I owe you. Meanwhile, you will receive a portion of the text. More portions will follow on
Saturday, and thus you will receive the entire text, little by little, over the course of the next
three weeks." In Der Brieju>tcluel zwi.Jchen Friedrich Carl oon Savigny und Stephan August
Winkelmann (z8oo-z8o4) mil Dokummlen und Bf'i4en au.s tkm Freufllksk,..i.!, ed. lngeborg
Schnack (Marburg: Elwert, 1984), p. 278.
34 Editor's Introduction
89
See G. von Goutta, "Gottfried Moritz Meyers Sammlung philosophischer Kolleg-
nachschriften," Kant-Studien 28 (1923): 198-200.
90
Fichte, Werke. Auswahl in seeks Banden, ed. Fritz Medicus (Leipzig: Meiner, 1908-12).
See vol. I (1911), pp. lxxx n., cxxi, and cxlvi-cxlvii, and vol. VI (1912), p. 627n.
91
Ueber eine unveroffentlichte Wi=nschaftslehre J G. Fichus.
92
(1) "Ueberschrift und Schlu~ einer studentischen Nachschrift der WL aus demjahre
1798 (Fichtes System der philosophischen Wissenschaften)," in Emanuel Hirsch, Christen-
tum und Geschichte in Fichus Philosophie (Tiibingen: Mohr, 1920), pp. 62-67. This selection
consists of the opening paragraph of H and the "Deduction of the Subdivisions of the Wis-
senschaftslehre" from H. (2) "Die unmittelbar fiir die Religionsphilosophie wichtigen
Stellen" and "Fichtes Diktate," in Emanuel Hirsch, Die idealistische Philosophie und das Chris-
tentum. Gesammelte Aufsii.tz.e (Giitersloh: Bertelsmann, 1926), pp. 291-307. This selection
consists, first, of brief excerpts from§§ 9, 13, 16, 17, 18, and 19 and, second, of the as-
sembled summaries, or "dictata," that occur at the end of each §of the transcript, supple-
mented by a few other passages.
9
' In addition to the previously cited works by Hirsch, see Heinz Heimsoeth, Fichu (Mu-
nich: Reinhardt, 1923), the first effort to employ the Wissenschaftslehre nova metlwdc as the
basis for an overall interpretation of Fichte's philosophy, and Max Wundt, Fichte-
Forschungen (Stuttgart: From mann, 1929), which devotes an entire chapter to "the Wissen-
sc":Jtslehre of 1797 ."
"Wissenschaftslehre nach den Vorlesungen von Herr. Fichte," in Fichte, Nachgelassene
Schriften, II: 341-611.
Editor's Introduction 35
ognized and where an Italian translation of the Halle transcript was
published in 1959). 95 Finally, in 1978, the entire text was reedited by
Jose Manzana and others and published in Volume IV, 2 of the monu-
mental new edition of Fichte's collected works sponsored by the Bavar-
ian Academy of Science. 96
. There has never been any serious dispute concerning the accuracy
and general reliability of this transcript. Everyone familiar with it has
concurred with Jacob's judgment that it represents "a carefully pre-
pared" and "intelligently produced" fair copy of a transcript of Fichte's
lectures, a transcript that, "with respect to its content and meaning, is a
good and faithful one." Moreover, according to Jacob, the text adheres
so closely to Fichte's own conventions regarding such matters as punc-
tuation and use of emphasis that one can safely conclude that it was pro-
duced by someone intimately acquainted with Fichte's own writings and
philosophy. 97
Since the transcript in question gives no indication of the name of the
student (or students) responsible for its production, it is commonly re-
ferred to simply as the "Halle transcript" of the Wissenschaftslehre nova
methodo and is herein identified as "H." Furthermore, it also fails to in-
clude any explicit indication of the date of the lectures it records. Con-
sequently, scholars have been forced to comb the manuscript for internal
clues to its date-with uncertain results, as we will see below.
Meanwhile, in 1980, while on an exploratory expedition to the Sii.ch-
sischen Landesbibliothek in Dresden, Erich Fuchs, a researcher and full-
time member of the editorial staff of the new Fichte edition, discovered
another, hitherto unsuspected transcript of the Wissenschaftslehre nova
methodo. This manuscript was titled "Fichte's Vorlesungen iiber die Wis-
senschaftslehre, gehalten zu Jena im Winter 1798-1799," and its title
page also provided the name of the student responsible for the tran-
scription: Karl Christian Friedrich Krause, who had attended Fichte's
lectures as a student during the winter semester of 1798/99, who later
established a professional reputation of his own,98 and among whose
95
G. A. Fichte, Teoria delliJ sciema 1798 "nova methodo," trans. Alfredo Cantoni (Milan:
Biblioteca de "II pensiero," 1959). The diclaln to H were translated even earlier by Luigi
Pareyson as "La seconda dottrina della scienza (17g8) diG. A. Fichte," RivistadifiliJsofw 41
(1950): 191-202. See too Arturo Massolo, Fichu e liJ filiJsofw (Florence: G. C. Sanzoni,
1948); Luigi Pareyson, Fichte-Il sisleme delliJ liherlii (Turin: Edizione di Filosofia, 1950;
2d, expanded ed., Milan: Mursia, 1976); Pasquale Salvucci, DialeUica e immaginazione
(Urbino: Argalla, 1963); and Aldo Masullo, La communilii come fondamenta: Fichu Husser[
Sartre (Naples: Libreria Scientifica, 1965).
96
"Wissenschaftslehre nach den Vorlesungen von Hr. Pr. Fichte," in AA IV, 2, Kolleg·
nachschriften 1796-1804, pp. 1-267, ed. Reinhard Lauth, Hans Gliwizky, Jose Manzana,
Erich Fuchs, Kurt Hiller, and Pete Schneider (Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann, 1978).
97
Editor's "Vorbericht" to Fichte, NachgeliJssene Schriften, II: xi, xxxi.
98
Krause (1781-1832) began his studies at Jena in the winter semester of 1797/98,
where he remained until 1So 1, studying theology, philosophy, and mathematics. Though
36 Editor's Introduction
Comparison of Hand K
As we have noted, Fichte first prepared his new presentation of the
first principles or foundations of his system for use in his lectures during
(above, n. 88).
Editor's Introduction 37
the winter semester of •7g6/g7, and he used the same text in his lectures
during the the winter semesters of 1797/98 and 1798/gg-though he
may well have revised the entire manuscript, or at least portions of it,
during these later semesters. As was his custom, he planned to publish
the text of his lectures, albeit in a revised form; and he began to do just
this when he published the first four installments of the Attempt at a New
Presentation of the Wissenschaftslehre in the Philosophical journal in 1797/g8.
In the passages in his letters in which he mentions his plan to publish
the new presentation, Fichte often referred to a single manuscript or set
of notebooks ("Heft," or sometimes "Heften") that he employed in his lec-
tures on this topic. Some of Fichte's lecture manuscripts have survived,
and what they reveal is precisely what one would expect: that he did not
always write out his lectures in complete detail and in finished form,
though he sometimes did just that; instead, he often jotted down incom-
plete sentences, key words, abbreviations, and so on, which he obviously
then went on 10 develop in an appropriate, extemporaneous manner
during the actual delivery of his lecture. (This, of course, explains how
equally faithful transcripts of the same course of lectures from two dif-
ferent semesters might differ in many details.) Nevertheless, Fichte's sur-
viving lecture manuscripts are much more than sketches or mere
"notes"; they are full-scale productions, in which, despite occasional syn-
tactical gaps and stylistic lapses, the structure of the overall argument is
always clearly evident, as well as many of its details. (This, in turn, ex-
plains how, for all of their differences, transcripts from different semes-
ters could nevertheless have the same organization and repeat the same
arguments, if not always in precisely the same words.)
There can be no reasonable doubt that H and K are both transcripts
of the same lecture course, and any reader who actua.lly compares the
two texts will reach this conclusion very quickly. The similarities are
striking: Both manuscripts are roughly the same length; moreover, each
is divided into nineteen §§, and each conclud-. with a separate section
titled "Deduction of the Subdivisions of the Wissenschaftslehre." Further-
more, each individual § is divided into the same number of sections in
both transcripts. The vocabulary and manner of expression are also the
same; indeed, the two transcripts occasionally contain virtually identical
passages. This is notably true ofthe important summaries that appear at
the end of each §. Such congruence is not surprising, since these sum-
maries, unlike the main body of the text of the lectures, were carefully
and slowly dictated by Fichte to his students. Hence they are commonly
referred to as the "dictata" to the Wis.senschaftslehre nova meth.odo.
The two manuscripts also exhibit the same range of references. Both
make frequent reference to the "earlier presentation" contained in the
Foundations and the Outline; both include references 10 Fichte's Founda-
tions of Natural Right, as well as to his System of Ethical Theory (and in both
38 Editor's Introduction
cases, these references to the latter works occur only in the second half
of the manuscript). Neither text, however, includes any reference to the
published rcortions of the Attempt at a New Presentation of the Wissen-
schaftslehre. 01 In addition to Fichte's own writings, both transcripts make
reference to the same works by Kant (and usually do so at exactly the
same place in the manuscript). Finally, when one turns to the actual con-
tent of the two transcripts, the impression that they are simply different
versions of the same course (though perhaps not from the same semes-
ter) is strengthened, for the argument is precisely the same in both ver-
sions.
Striking as the similarities between the two transcripts are, there are
nevertheless obvious and significant differences between them as well.
To begin with, with the exception of the dictata, the two transcripts sel-
dom correspond word for word, even where the detailed execution of
the argument is exactly the same. Furthermore, in addition to the "sec-
ond introduction" (which corresponds to the introduction to H), K also
includes a "first introduction," for which there is no parallel in H. 102
Second, for the first three §§, K provides, in addition to the same dictata
that appear in H, alternate dictata, which are identified within the body
of the text as "( 1798)" and within the compilation of the summary para-
graphs (titled by Krause "Major Points of the Wissenschaftslehre 1798-
1799") with which K begins as "older versions" of the same. 103 Though
H, unlike K, includes nothing without some parallel in the other tran-
101
The complete absence of any reference to the AUempt at a New Presentation (which be-
gan to appear in the Phirosophisches journal in April 1797 and which one might have ex-
pected Fichte to mention in his subsequent lectures on this subject) is something of a
mystery. The editors of AA IV, 2 cite this fact as evidence that at least the first portions of
H stem from 1796/97-though this does not necessarily mean H is a transcript of the lec-
tures delivered during that semester, since it is surely possible that Fichte simply used lec-
tures from 17g6/97 at some later date, without bothering to update the references. In any
case, since K also includes no reference to the AUempt at a New Presentation, this lack cannot
be used to date either manuscript in relation to the other.
102
Concerning this "first introduction" (as well as its puzzling subtitle, "as presented in
public lectures"), I ves Radrizzani plausibly suggests that it did not form a part of Fichte's
actual lectures on "the foundations of transcendental philosophy" (which was, as we have
seen, a private course). Instead, Radrizzani suggests that this "first introduction" is a tran-
scription of the text of a public lecture that Fichte delivered before the beginning of the
winter semester and that, like the earlier Concerning the Concept, he intended as an "invi-
tation" to attract prospective students to his private lectures on the subject. See the catalog
description of the 1796/97 lectures on Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo, which includes the
announcement, "During the vacation he will publicly announce the plan of his course on
transcendental philosophy." Though no such announcement is included in the catalog de-
scription of Fichte's lectures on this subject in subsequent semesters, the content of the
"first introduction" of K corresponds precisely with this description.
103
In fact, K's two versions of the dictat for§ 3 are virtually identical. Since the text of the
"major points of the Wissenschaftslehre" with which Krause's manuscript actually begins
does not differ substantially from the text of the dictata that appear at the end of each §
within the main body of the transcript, Fuchs did not include them within the Meiner edi-
tion of the text. They will, however, appear in their proper place in AA IV, 3·
Editor's lmroduelion 39
104
A small bit of evidence that K is a revised, fair copy of Krause's class notes is provided
by what appears to be an obvious error of transcription in the first paragraph of§ 14 (K,
p. 152), where the word "Erfolgs" occurs instead of the word "Gefiihls," which is dearly
required by the contexL As Fuchs points out (in a letter to the present translator), the
words EifolgJ and GeJUIW are very similar in German script, especially when hurriedly writ-
ten. Hence the most plausible way to explain the otherwise puzzling a,ppearance of the
former at this point in the text is to assume that K is a fair copy, which Krause transcribed
at some later date from notes that he (or someone else) had previously (and hurriedly)
40 Editor's Introduction
transcript was composed after class, but rather, How much time elapsed
between the actual lectures and the composition of K?
On the one hand, Erich Fuchs argues that the preponderance of the
evidence favors his hypothesis that K is a fair copy prepared between the
end of the semester (March 14, 1799) and August 25 of the same
year; 105 lves Radrizzani, on the other hand, questions the force of
Fuchs's evidence and suggests that it is more likely that Krause recopied
his notes from each lecture during the course of the semester and did
not prepare the transcript all at once. (Indeed, Radrizzani wishes to
leave open the possibility that the text of K was transcribed by Krause
during Fichte's lectures-though he fails to offer any explanation of the
presence within Krause's transcript of "older versions" of the first three
diclnill.)
In support of his hypothesis that K was completed by August 25,
1799. Fuchs calls attention to the fact that this date occurs in a marginal
note near the beginning of§ •7, where Krause left several blank pages
in his notebook with the explanation that "the missing period was not
skipped. Instead, the text of the .lecture was copied by mistake into an-
other notebook and will be inserted later." In support of the hypothesis
that the transcript was not actually begun until after the end of the se-
mester, Fuchs cites a passage near the end of the "first introduction,"
which reads as follows: "We shall also discuss, in an explicit and thor-
ough manner, the laws of reflection, in combination and in connection
with what proceeds from these laws. (This promise could not be fulfilled
because of a lack of time.)" According to Fuchs's interpretation, the sen-
tence in parentheses represents a comment by Krause and refers to the
"lack of time" available in •798/99, which Fuchs also suggests may be ex-
plained by recalling that the Atheism Controversy was in full bloom at
this point and that Fichte may have had to cut short or even cancel some
of his lectures because of external circumstances. In any event, if Fuchs's
interpretation of this parenthetical remark is correct, then of course
Krause could not have inserted this comment before the end of the se-
mester, and hence one would have to conclude that K was composed at
some point following the end of the winter semester of 1798/99·
In disputing this claim, Radrizzani argues 106 that the reference to the
missing portion of the notes and the decision to leave several pages
blank for its later insertion, far from supporting Fuchs's conclusion, in-
dicate that K, if it is not the actual notebook in which Krause transcribed
Fichte's lectures in class, was at the very least composed during the
course of the semester. After all, one would assume that if Krause had
taken in class. Funher evidence that K was prepared after Fichte's actual lectures is the
ap~arance therein of ahemate dictaJo. for the fir.ot three §§.
"'See Fuchs's introduction 10 K, pp. x-xi.
106 See Radrizzani's introduction to his French translation of the Wwmschaftslehre 11000
been making a fair copy at the end of the semester, he would have had
all his notes on hand and thus would not have been forced to leave sev-
eral pages blank for later insertion of the missing lecture. On this inter-
pretation, therefore, the date "August 25, 1799" represents merely the
date when Krause finally got around to inserting the missing section,
not the date he finished recopying the entire manuscript.
As for Fuchs's other piece of evidence, the parenthetical remark about
the lack of time, Radrizzani points out, first of all, that there is no reason
why the uproar over atheism should have interfered with Fichte's lec-
tures on WisseruckaftslehTe naoo metlwdo, since these were presumably
based upon a manuscript prepared several years before the winter se-
mester of •798/g9. Nor is there any indication within the text of K that
Fichte actually canceled or curtailed any meetings of his class during the
winter of •798/99· Radrizzani plausibly suggests that the remark con-
cerning the lack of time might well represent a comment of Fichte's and
not of Krause's. In this case, it would refer not to the 1798/gg lectures,
but rather to the 17941'95 presentation of the "Foundations of the Entire
WissenschaftslehTe." In support of this hypothesis, Radrizzani points out
that the remark occurs in the context of an explicit comparison between
the published Foundations and the new presentation to be developed in
the 1798/99 lectures.
The most plausible conclusion seems to be that K represents a fair
copy that Krause made during the course of the semester, most probably
recopying each lecture directly after each class meeting. This hypothesis
simultaneously explains the presence of the "older versions" of the early
dictata in the manuscript (which surely must have been added after
Fichte's classroom lectures) as well as the blank pages reserved for the
missing lecture (suggesting that at the time of K's composition Krause
did not have convenient access to the missing notebook). 107 Of course, it
still remains possible that the entire manuscript was prepared after the
end of the semester and that, for some unknown reason, Krause had to
wait until ~gust to insert the missing portion.
108
I
Nachgelassem Schriften, II: xxxi. Jacob also claims that the contents of H, in compar-
ison with those of the published Attempt at a New Presentatian, argue for a later date, since
H gives clearer prominence to the fact of self-consciousness as the starting point of the
Wissmschaft.slehre than does the published Attempt at a New Presentation. In addition, he also
purports to find a significant difference between the vocabularies of the two versions.
Thus he maintains (p. xxx) that a comparison of H and the AUempt at a New Presentation
reveals that the contents of the latter are further removed from the 1794/95 version than
are those of the former. No other student of these texts, however, including myself, has
found Jacob's claims on this matter to be convincing.
109
Fichus Religionsphilosphie im Rnhmen der philosoph:ischen Gesamtentwicldung Fichus (GOt-
I
1
tingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1914), p. 59 n. 3· Hirsch later changed his mind,
however, and admitted that H could stem from either 1 797/98 or 1 798199 (Chr:istentum und
Geschichte, p. 67n).
110
See editors' introduction to Das System der Sitleniehre, AA I, 5: 7-8.
111
See Berger, Ueber eine unverliffemlichte Wissmschaftslehre, p. g. Medicus, in the same
note that first called the attention of scholars to the existence of the Halle Nachschrift
(Fichte's Werke, I: lxxx n), asserted that "the notebook stems, at the earliest, from the win-
ter of 1797/gS, but perhaps from the last Jena semester, winter 1798/gg." See too Medicus's
remark in the "Nachtrag" to Vol. VI of Fichte's Werke (p. 617n): "Future editors of Fichte's
works are hereby notified that the university library at Halle [ ... ] has a transcript of a
version of the WL which has not yet been published at all-presumably from the summer
[sic} of 1798 (at the earliest from the winter of 1797/98 and at the latest from the winter
of 1798/gg)."
Editor's Introduction 43
the references to the System of Ethical Theory appear only in the second
half of the manuscript suggests that they were added during the winter
semester of 1797/98 (rather than 1798/99), since Fichte began distribut-
ing sections of the printed text of the System of Ethical Theory to his stu-
dents in December •797 (that is, midway through the semester). 112
The Ipost recent editors of H (the editors of AA IV, 2) insist upon a
narrower dating, however, and conclude that the Halle transcript ''must
stem from the winter of 1798/99• at least in part." 113 As evidence for
this, they call attention, first, to the fact that the technical term Potenz
("power'') occurs in§ 16. According to the same editors, this term, which
is closely associated with the Naturphilosophie of Schelling and J. W. Rit-
ter, "so far as can be determined, was first empior,ed in Jena in a purely
philosophical sense only in the spring of •799·" 1 4 Moreover, they were
unable to find any occurrence of the term Potenz in any of Fichte's pub-
lished or unpublished writings before 1799, and thus they conclude that
H is most probably a transcript of the lectures of 1798/99· Second, they
note an elliptical reference in § 13 to "a Dutch scholar," whom Fichte
praises for having raised a legitimate question concerning the difference
between practical and speculative reason. Speculating that this is an al-
lusion to Paulus van Hemert's Ueber die Existence der Principien eines reinen
uneignutzigen Wohlwollens im Menschen, a work that first appeared in Ger-
man translation in the winter of 1798/gg, the editors of AA IV, 2 take
this reference to confirm their hypothesis that H could not be a tran-
script of lectures delivered before 1798/gg.
Nevertheless, it seems rather more likely that the bulk of H does in
fact stem from 1797/g8, and for the following reasons: First of all, the
evidence purportedly furnished by the occurrence of the term Potenz
has recently been undermined by the discovery that Fichte himself em-
ployed., this term in precisely the same sense in his lectures "Logic and
MetaPftysics" in the summer semester of 1798. 115 Hence one certainly
cannot rule out the possibility that he also employed it a few months ear-
lier in his "Foundations of Transcendental Philosophy" lectures during
the winter semester of 1797/98.
112 On the other hand, references to the Foundalioru of N~uro/ Right, which was certainly
available before the beginning of the winter semester of 1797/98, are also confined exclu-
sively to the second half of both Hand K. In any case, the fact that Fichte's citations from
the Sytem of Ethics begin only in § 14 does not prove that H derives from the 1797/98 lec-
tures, since the same is true of K as well. The only conclusion that one can safely draw
from these references to the System of Ethics is this: they are equally compatible with the
17~i'98 and 1798199 dates, though not with the date of 17g6/97·
1 AA IV, 2:6.
114
Ibid.
115
This is reported by Juha Manninen in his research paper, ~Hilijer und Fichte.
Ein Systemprogramm aus dem Jahre 1799," in TmnsUfldemalphilruophie als S,Stem: Die
Au.reinandend:r.ung zwi.Jdun 1794 und 1806, ed. A. Mues (Hamburg: Meiner, 198g). See es-
pecially pp. 2fi9--73.
44 Editor's Introduction
Second, as for the alleged reference to van Hemert's book: if this iden-
tification is correct, then it of course follows that H must stem from
1 798/gg.
116 The allusion is sufficiently vague, however, to leave open the
very real possibility that Fichte may have had some other, as yet uniden-
tified, "Dutch scholar" in mind. 117 In any case, this appears to be a
rather slim reed to cling to in order to defend the later dating of H. (It
is worth noting, incidentally, that the corresponding passage in K-
which certainly does spring from •7g8/gs-does not include any refer-
ence to "a Dutch scholar.")
A final piece in this puzzle is provided by the notation "V g8," which
appears early in§ 11 of H 118 and is written in a different ink and hand-
writing than that of the Nacluchrift itself. The editors of AA IV, 2 suggest,
quite plausibly, that this is a date, "May 1798." 119 If so, then the question
becomes, What does this date represent? The editors of AA interpret it
as evidence in support of their hypothesis that the text of H was com-
posed of transcripts from different semesters, with the earlier portions
stemming from an earlier semester and the later portions from a later
one. Thus, they suggest that the notation indicates when the first por-
tion of the manuscript (that is, up to the point where this date occurs)
was copied, while the rest was added at some later date. According to
their hypothesis, therefore, the first§§ of H might represent a transcript
of the 1797/g8 (or even 17g6/g7) lectures, whereas the latter portions
could be a transcript of the 17g8/gg lectures. 120
116
As Radrizzani argues, however, even if one does take this vague remark of Fichte's to
be a reference to van Hemert's book, it is still difficult to explain its presence at this point
in H (§ 13). One can readily calculate that Fichte would not have reached this point in his
lectures until the end of January, whereas, as Radrizzani notes, "one can seriously doubt
whether Fichte would at this date have had sufficient time to become aware of the trans-
lation of van Hemert's book."
117
This is the opinion of Fuchs as well, who now considers the identification of van
Hemert as the "Dutch scholar" in question to be "obsolete" (quoted by Radrizzani, La Doc-
trine de Ia Science Nwa Melhodo, p. 35).
118
AA IV, 2: 1 16.
119
As Radrizzani, who also treats this notation as an important due for determining the
date of H, remarks: "One cannot see what else it could be" (Radrizzani, La Doclriru1 de Ia
SciEnct Num Mtlhodo, p. 36).
120 See AA IV, 2: 12. With the publication of K, it is possible to test this hypothesis by
comparing the corresponding portions of the two transcripts. What one discovers thereby
is that there is no difference between the earlier and later portions of the two manuscripts
which would suggest that H is a composite transcript of notes from two different semes-
ters; thus the hypothesis fails. Since K displays the same alleged discrepancies between its
earlier and later portions that H does, these same discrepancies cannot be cited in support
of the suggestion that whoever trarucribed H was working with various sets of student
transcripts.
Even less compelling is the suggestion by the editors of AA IV, 2 (p. 12) that their "com-
posite" hypothesis is supported by the words "nach den Vorlesungen" in the subtitle of H.
The word Vorlesungen ("lectures") can just as easily refer to a set of lectures delivered in a
single semester as to several different sets of lectures.
Editor's Introduction 45
If the notation represents a date at all, however, it could just as well
represent the date at which a particular reader of the transcript had
reached this point in the text. 121 At the very least, the presence of the
date "May 1798" appears to refute the hypothesis that H stems entirely
from 1798/99, while the "composite" hypothesis is seriously undermined
by the fa!=t that K shows a similar difference between its earlier and later
parts. Thus, if one agrees that, on the basis of internal evidence alone,
"the beginning parts appear to reproduce an older version and the later
parts a more recent version," 122 then one also has to concede that the
same could be said of K, which definitely stems in its entirety from 1798/
99· Thus any alleged differences between the "older" and "more recent"
portions of the presentations contained in Hand K would in fact reflect
a difference between those portions of Fichte's own lecture manuscript
which were composed earlier (presumably, 1796/97) and those that were
composed (or revised) at a later date (probably 1797/98). In short, there
is no reliable internal evidence that any portion of the main body of the
text of H can be traced to the winter semester of 1798/99.
Finally, let us consider the evidence of the dictata. As has already been
mentioned, these are virtually identical in the two transcripts, except for
the additional presence of three "older versions" of§§ 1-3 in K, where
they are also labeled by Krause "( 1798)." This date raises several prob-
lems. First, why should the "older versions" of the dictata to the first
three §§.be dated "1798," when this was obviously the date of the "newer
versions" of the dictata for the first three§§ (October-November 1798)?
The most likely hypothesis is surely that these alternate versions repre-
sent the dictata from the "previous presentation" of 1797/98 and that
Krause copied them from someone else's notes, perhaps dated simply
"1798" (which was, of course, when the previous presentation ended). 123
121
'!tt Of course, it might also indicate the date at which a particular copyist had reached
this point in the transcription. But this would not explain the different ink and handwrit-
inll, though it would support the •797/98 dating of H.
122
AA IV, •: I ••
12
' This is the view that Fuchs defends in his introduction to K (pp. xiv-xv). In contrast,
Radrizzani proposes in 1A Doctrine de La Scknu N(J!J(J Mtlhodo (p. 26) that the versions dated
"1798" actually represent the "newer versions" of the first three diclala and that the un-
dated versions are the ~older" ones. It is, however, impossible to reconcile this hypothesis
with the fact that, in the summary of the "Major Points of the Wi.ssenschaftskhrt" with which
K begins, these "• 798" vefllions are explicitly labeled "older versions." Radrizzani addresses
this inconsistency by suggesting that Krause simply erred in identifying these passages as
"older versions." But surely it is at least as likely that he erred when he identified them
within the main body of his text as stemming from 1 798.
To buttress his hypothesis, Radrizzani calls attention to the fact that the two versions of
the dictaJ to § 3, one of which occurs at the beginning of the paragraph and is labeled
"( 1798)" and the other of which OCCUfll at the end of the same §, are virtually identical.
Radrizzani interprets this puzzling fact as follows (p. 27): When Krause added the "older
vefllion" (according to Radrizzani, the version at the end of the §), he simply "failed to
recognize" the striking similarities between the two versions, for "if he had, he would have
become conscious of his error [that is, his error in thinking that these were two different
46 Editor's Introduction
But if one accepts this hypothesis (and also believes that K and H stem
from different semesters), then how can one explain the fact that same
dictata appear in H and in K? If we assume that 1796/97 can be ruled out
as the date of the lectures upon which H is based, then (according to the
above hypothesis) we would expect that Krause's "older versions" of
"1798" would correspond to the versions of the dictata found in H. In
fact, however, the dictata found in H are virtually identical to those
found in K, and H contains nothing similar to the "older versions" in-
cluded in K. How can this be explained?
One possible explanation could be that H and K represent two dif-
ferent transcripts of the same 1798/99 lectures. To accept this explana-
tion, however, one would have to reject all the other evidence in favor of
an earlier dating of H; consequently, anyone who insists that the two
transcripts derive from two different semesters must propose some
other explanation for the appearance of the same dictata in H and in K.
Fuchs, for example, suggests that whoever copied the final version of H
had access 10 the dictLJta from 1798/99 (though, presumably, not to the
Nach.1chrijt of the lectures themselves) and simply substituted these
"more recent" versions for the older ones. 124 Another possibility is that
Krause simply erred in assigning the date 1798 to his "older versions"
of the first three dictata, which might have come from an even earlier
version of the same lectures (those of •796/97), in which case it is quite
possible that Fichte used the same dictatLJ in 1797/98 and in 1 798/9g---
which would explain the otherwise puzzling congruence of the two tran-
scripts on this point. Admittedly, none of these possible explanations is
entirely satisfactory, and there remains a certain amount of mystery con-
cerning the precise provenance of the dicmta in H and of the "older ver-
sions" in K. '
Despite the ultimately inconclusive character of all this evidence, it
seems safe to conclude that H and K represent two different transcripts,
deriving from two different semesters, of Fichte's lectures on Wissen-
schaftslehre nova methodo. The main evidence for this conclusion was un-
available to the editors of AA IV, 2: namely, the many differences
between H and K. Granted, such differences cannot be said to prove that
versions of the dictat to § 3) and would have eliminated the paremhesis [that is, the date
"( 1798)" with which he labels the dictat at the head of§ 3]." Once again, however, this hy-
pothesis is undermined by the text of the "major points," where the two (nearly identical)
versions of the dicto.l to § 3 occur one after the other-making it extremely diiTicult to be-
lieve that Krause could have somehow "failed to recognize" the similarities between the
two versions.
12 4 Jntroduction to K, p. xv. This suggestion is not as far-fetched as it might at first ap-
pear. There is ample evidence that copies of the dicto.to. to Fichte's lectures circulated quite
independently of transcripts of the lectures themselves. See, e.g., Smidt's letter to Herbart,
August 10, 17!)6, requesting a copy of the dicto.Ja from Fichte's lectures on natural rights
(in Fuchs, ed., Fichu im GeJpriich, 1: 370).
Editor's Imroduction 47
the two texts stem from two different semesters; these differences may,
however, be said to establish this beyond any reasonable doubt.
As any experienced teacher can testify, different students can often
produce strikingly different sets of notes from the same lecture; and one
would expect this would be all the more true in the case of a lecturer like
Fichte, w~o was noted for his rapid delivery. 125 Yet these Kolleg-
nachschriften are much more than mere class notes. They at least attempt
to approximate stenographic transcriptions of Fichte's lectures, and
their very length suggests that few of Fichte's words went unrecorded.
Yet when we compare the two manuscripts, we find that, with the ex-
ception of the dictata, they contain virtually no identical passages and
often differ substantially. Not only do the wording and phrasing of the
two texts vary to a greater or lesser degree, 126 but entire paragraphs,
such as the many summaries that occur in the later portions of H, ap-
pear in one text but not in the other. Though the structure of the ar-
gument-both in its general outlines and in its detailed execution-is
the same in the two texts, the examples that Fichte chose to illustrate his
points are not always precisely the same. Nor are the same references
always supplied in the two texts (as was noted above with respect to the
controversial allusion to "a Dutch scholar"). Finally, though both texts
include explicit comparisons between the new presentation of the first
principles of Fichte's philosophy and the older version contained in the
Foundnt.iuns and the Outline, the comparisons in K are more frequent and
more extensive than those in H.
Thus I agree with my fellow editors, Fuchs and Radrizzani, in reject-
ing the hypothesis that H and K represent two different transccipts of
125
See the anonymous report on Fichte's style as a lecturer in Fuchs, ed., Fich.te im &-
sprach, II: g6: "He never spoke slowly, but was almost always in a hurry." This report, how-
ever, should be compared with other, later ones which appear to conflict with it and which
emphasize the clarity of Fichte's lectures and the deliberateness of his style as a lecturer.
See, e.g., Heinrich Kohlrausch's 1804 report (in Fich.te im Gesprlich, Ill: 217) and the fol-
lowing report, by August Twestan, on Fichte's 1810 lectures ~on the Study of Philosophy":
uHis manner of lecturing is a model for academic teachen, and especially for teachers of
philosophy. He speaks briefly, simply, and clearly, just as in the introduction to Tlw V0€4h\m
of Man; and one can see that he speaks not in order to demonstrate his eloquence, but is
concerned only with the subject matter. His speech is precise and is so well organized that
it is impossible not to follow him. He knows how to make his lectures dear by means of
frequent, but never extraneous, recapitulations and by repeatedly calling attention to how
everything is connected to the overall thread of the argument. Furthermore, he speaks
slowly and with appropriate pauses, so that it possible for e\IC'!ryone to retain an accurate
memory of what he said and to reflect upon it" (Fichu im Gesprlich, IV: 26g).
126
Though the technical vocabulary of the two presentations is in almost all aues the
same, there is at least one exception worthy of note: In t 17 (H, pp. 194ff.) the term ln-
~grij[ occurs in H in rnany passages where K continues to employ the term ZTWckbegrij[
(~concept of a goal}. The former term is never employed in this Jense anywhere in K:
indeed, the work "lnlwgrij[" occurs only once in K, in the Fint Introduction, where it has
its usual sense of"substance" or vrontent" (K, p. 9). This minor difference is best explained
by the hypothesis that K and H are ba5.ed upon lectures from two different semesters.
48 Editor's Introduction
the same set of lectures. 127 Moreover, since K undoubtedly comes from
17g8/gg, then H must be the earlier ( 1797/98) version-a conclusion
that follows, as Fuchs notes, "despite all the other indications that have
hitherto suggested a later dating for the Halle transcript." 128
At the same time, I also concur with the judgment of virtually all pre-
vious editors and scholars, that H and K can nevertheless be treated as
two, slightly different transcripts of the same ... new presentation" of the
foundations of the Wissenschaftslehre. This conclusion, which is inescap-
ably suggested by a careful study of the content of the two transcripts, is,
in turn, reinforced by the fact that all the evidence clearly indicates that
Fichte himself employed the same manuscript each time he lectured on
Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo, 129 though, like most accomplished teach-
ers, he probably made various revisions, emendations, and new nota-
tions in his manuscript each time he employed it, just as he surely added
different extemporaneous comments on each occasion. Furthermore,
the same evidence plainly suggests that the manuscript was first com-
posed by Fichte in approximately 1796 and subsequently revised here
and there in 1797/98 and possibly in 1798/gg as well. 13 Certainly the °
127
See Fuchs's introduction to K, p. xiv: "The attentive reader of both transcripts will
conclude from a comparison of the two that both can be traced to a common foundation,
namely the lectures on Wis.senschaftslehre nova methodo based upon 'notebooks'; the same
reader, however, will also conclude that these transcripts themselves stem from two (or
three) different courses of lectures. [ ... ) Despite all the agreement, with which we are
now familiar, between the two versions of the Wis.senschaftslehre nova methodo--agreement
concerning content and structure, as well as concerning the order of tt.main thoughts, all
the way to the occasional agreement of their formulations-one can with great confidence
exclude the possibility that they were transcripts of one and the same set of lectures. The
differences in content, dimension, word order, and execution of details are too great" (p.
xiv). Radrizzani, though he quarrels with some of the evidence Fuchs cites, arrives at the
same conclusion on pp. 35-36 of the introduction to his French translation: viz., that there
is no positive proof that H stems from 1798/99• whereas there is considerable evidence
that at least parts of H stem from 1797/98 and no reason not to assume that the entire
transcript does as well.
128
K, p. xiv.
129
Hence the conclusion of the editors of AA IV, 2: "From a careful study of the
Nachschrift, one gains the impression that Fichte's lectures became fixed in a written form
over a long period of time, and also that at least the later portions were later revised" (AA
IV, 2: 7).
0
" There are, as already noted, minor discrepancies in Fichte's own remarks on this sub-
ject: in the "Public Announcement" (signed November 4, 1800), he reports that he has had
the manuscript on hand for "five years" (i.e, since November 1795!); in his letter to
Schmidt, March 17, 1799, he says he has been working on the new version "for three years"
(i.e., since the spring of 1796); in his January 31, 1801, letter to Johanssen, he claims that
he has had the manuscript "for four years" (i.e., since the beginning of 1797).
See the conclusion drawn by the editors of AA IV, 2: 9: "Most probably, Fichte began the
first drafts in the winter of 1795f96 or in the spring of 17g6. In the first part of 1796,
however, he had so much to do in conjunction with his work on the Ethics that his work on
the Wis.senschaftslehre nova metlwdo did not progress as he had hoped, and thus he had to
cancel the projected course on the foundations of transcendental philosophy [originally
announced for the summer of 1796]. In the fall of 1796 he could, once again, dedicate
himself completely to work on this project. Assuming that he proceeded in his customary
Editor's Introduction 49
dictata were revised, as is confirmed by the presence in K of "older ver-
sions," and the references to the System of Ethical Theory must also have
been added at some point after 17g6/g7.
Consequently, though K is a transcript of the 17g8/gg lectures and H
can be traced back to 1797/98 with a fair degree of reliability, one is nev-
ertheless. entitled to speak of both these manuscripts as transcripts of
the "Wissenschaftslehre of 1796/gg," or simply as two different presenta-
tions of "the Wissenschaftslehre nova methodo." 131 Accordingly, the present
translation treats K and H as two, complementary transcripts of two dif-
ferent sets of lectures deriving from a single manuscript or set of lecture
notes. Though Fichte's own manuscript has apparently vanished, we can
attempt to reconstruct it by combining in a single text the contents of K
and H and, where necessary, emending each in the light of the other.
Though some questions still remain concerning the precise wording of
specific passages here and there, the general style, vocabulary, and man-
ner of argument of these two transcripts are immediately recognizable
as Fichte's own. When appropriately conflated, the two transcripts con-
stitute a complete whole, with no gaps in the argument or any obvious
shortcomings in the presentation-a whole that is, from the point of
view of anyone trying to understand and analyze the Wissenschaftslehre of
1796/gg, clearly superior to either of the two transcripts considered by
itself. The result, I believe, is the closest we are ever likely to come to an
accurate and complete version of Fichte's Jena lectures titled "Founda-
tions of Transcendental Philosophy (Wissenschaftslehre) nuua methodo."
manner, it follows that his composition of the 'notebooks' was preceded by a preliminary
draft, which could be what is referred to by the earliest dates mentioned (winter 179s'96,
spring 1796)." Moreover, these sa~e editors quite plausibly interpret the previously
quoted passage in Fichte's March 17; 1799, letter to Schmidt, where Fichte reports that he
has been working on the new version for three years ("seit drei Jahren Mbe ich eine neiU1
Darstellung bearbeitet"), as evidence that he continued to work on it throughout this period.
"'This was also the conclusion drawn by the very first scholar to make a detailed study
of the Halle transcript, Emanuel Hirsch (see Fichtes Religionsphilosophie, p. 59n). Hirsch
subsequently reaffirmed this conclusion in Christentum und Geschichte, p. 67n, where he
wrote: "From the winter semester 1796/97 on, Fichte's Jena lectures were always based
upon a single notebook; consequently, with respect to its contents, we may treat the tran-
script [H] as representing the Wissenschaftslehre of 1796."
PRINCIPLES OF THE
EDITION AND TRANSLATION
[50]
Principles of the Edition and Translation 5l
Despite the complexity of the editorial apparatus, every effort has
been made to produce an English text that is as accurate and as readable
as possible (though these two goals are not always readily reconcilable).
For the convenience of readers who may wish to compare the translation
with the German originals, the pagination of both H and K has been
provided in the margins, and in many instances the original German
text is provided in the (numbered) footnotes. The specific principles and
conventions governing this edition are as follows.
Page nu,mbers of the German text: The page numbers of the Felix
Meiner edition of the text of K are supplied in the left margin of the
text. Page numbers of H (as published in AA IV, 2) are supplied, within
parentheses, in the right margin. 5 Page references to H are also sup-
plied, again in parentheses, following each of the supplementary pas-
sages translated in the notes.
abbilden to portray
ableiten to derive
die Absicht intention
der Accident accident, accidental property or feature
afficieren to affect, to have an effect on
die Agilitat agility
der Akt act
anerkennen to acknowledge, to recognize
an hal ten to arrest, to bring to a halt
ankniipfen to attach, to connect, to tie or to hold
together
anschauen to intuit
das Anschauen intuiting, act of intuiting
das Anschauende the intuiting subject
die Anschauung intuition
die Ansicht view, point of view, opinion, way of looking
at, appearance, aspect, perspective, the
way something looks
auffassen to grasp, to interpret, to construe (to pick
out)
die Aufforderung summons
der Aufgabe task, assignment
aufhalten to bring to a halt, to arrest
aufheben to cancel, to annul
aufnehmen to assimilate, to take up, to absorb, to
accommodate
aufstellen to present, to exhibit, to display, to set up
die Ausdehnung expansion
(sich) aussern to express
das Beabsichtigte what is intended
die Bedingung condition (for the possibility of)
die Begierde desire
begreifen to comprehend, to grasp, to grasp in or by
means of a concept
56 German/English Glossary
[ 61 l
KEY TO SYMBOLS AND NOTES
{} All material enclosed with braces or scroll brackets is inserted into the
text of K from H.
A
Footnotes marked by a superscripted letter provide additional, supple-
mentary passages from H.
The numbers in the left-hand margins refer to the page numbers of the text of
K, as published by Felix Meiner.
The numbers in the right-hand margins (within parentheses) refer to the page
numbers of the text of H, as published in AA IV, 2 (and are provided only where
material from H appears within the main body of the English text).
Foundations of Transcendental Philosophy
(Wissenschaftslehre) N(JlJ(l Methodo
(l?g6/gg)
The Major Points of the
Wissenschaftslehre of 1798-1 799
§ 1
The Concept of the I. Intellectual Intuition.
(newer version)
Postulal.e: Construct the concept of the I and observe how you accom-
plish this.
It was claimed that if one does what one is asked to do one will dis-
cover that one is active and will discover in addition that one's activity is
directed upon one's own active self. Accordingly, the concept of the I
comes into being only by means of a self-reverting activity; and conversely,
the only concept that comes into being by means of such an activity is
the concept of the I. By observing oneself while engaged in this activity,
one becomes immediately conscious of it; i.e., one posits oneself as self-
positing. As the sole immediate form of consciousness, this immediate
1
This is Krause's title for the general summary he placed at the beginning of his
Nachschrift. Krause's subtitle notwithstanding, this was not to be the last time that Fichte
lectured on the Wissmsclwftslehre. He began a new series of lectures on the topic in Berlin
only a year after his depanure from Jena and continued to deliver new lectures on the
Wissmschnftslehre at various intervals throughout the rest of his life. This was, however, his
last series of lectures on the topic at Jena.
The following summary of the "major points" or "chief propositions" (Haupts;Uu) of
Fichte's Wissmsclwftslehre, with which Krause's manuscript commences, is simply a compi-
lation of the carefully dictated summaries ("dict4UJ") that occur at the end of each of the
nineteen §§ into which the Wissmschnftslehre nova methodo is divided. For this reason, per-
haps, Erich Fuchs did not include this preliminary section in his published edition of
Krause's transcript. Though there are some minor differences between the versions of the
summaries which appear within the text of the lectures and the transcriptions assembled
here, only those changes that seem to involve some shift of meaning are explicitly noted.
The translation of these "major points" departs from Krause's manuscript in several
[ 6sJ
66 Major Points of the Wi.ssenschaftslehre
(older version of § 1)
All consciousness is accompanied by an immediate self-consciousness,
which is called intellectual intuition, and this immediate self-consciousness
must be presupposed if one is to be able to think at all. Consciousness,
however, is an activity, and self-consciousness, in particular, is the self-
reverting activity of the intellect, or pure reflection. Remark: Everything
follows as a consequence of carrying out the indicated self-observation.
This pure act of reflection, viewed as a concept, is thought of by the I.
Accordingly, I posit myself simply by means of myself, and all other con-
sciousness is conditioned by this act of self-positing.
§2
Relation of the I to the Not- I.
(newer version)
It was claimed that when one constructs the concept of the I one will
also discover that one cannot posit oneself as active without positing this
activity as self-determined, and that one cannot do this without positing
a nwuement of transition from a sto.te of indeterminacy or determinability-
minor respects: (1) The page layout is different. Krause arranged his content headings
(whkh, presumably, derive from Krause himself and not directly from Fichte) in a column
on the left side of his pages and the summaries themselves in a column on the right side
ofthe same pages. (11) As in· the main body of the Nacluchr!fl, two virtually identical versions
of§ 3 are also included in the «major points," and here too only one of these (the "more
recent" version) is translated. (3) The second paragraph of Fichte's summary of§ 17 is not
included in Krause's compilation of "major points" but has been included here. (4) As in
the main body of the text, words and passages are occasionally inserted from the text of
the dictata appearing at the end of each §of H. Such insertions are always enclosed within
braces or scroll brackets.
Major Points of the Wissenschaftslehre 67
which movement of transition is itself the very activity one is here ob-
serving (see sections 1 and 2 above). Similarly, one cannot grasp the
concept {of the I} which comes into being by means of the determinate
activity without determining this concept by means of an opposed Not- I.
What is determinable is the same as what was previously called the state
of repose (§ 1), for it becomes determined precisely by being trans-
formed into an activity. Moreover, that which, in relation to the intuition
of the I, is a concept of the I, is for the Not-I an intuition. More specif-
ically, it is the concept of the act of intuiting (section 4). As a consequence of
this opposition, the Not-1 can be characterized as the {real} negation of
activity; that is, it can be characterized as "being," which is the concept of
canceled activity. The concept of being is thus by no means an original
concept, but is a negative one, derived from activity.
§3
Actual Consciousness. Freedom.
One will find that this movement of transition (from what is deter-
minable to what is determinate, § 2) possesses its foundation utterly
within itself. The action involved in this transition is called real activity
and is opposed to that ideal activity which merely copies the former, and
the overall activity of the I is thereby divided between these two types of
activity. In accordance with the principle of determinability, no real ac-
tivity can be posited without also positing a real or practical pawer. Real
and ideal activity mutually condition and determine each other. Neither
is possible without the other, nor can one comprehend what either of
them is without also comprehending the other. In this act of freedom
the I itself becomes objective. An actual consciousness comes into being,
and from now on anything that is to be an object of consciousness at all
68 Major Points of the Wissenschaftslehre
§4
The Character of the I as the Identity
of Practical Power and Intellect.
§5
Intuitability of the Activity of the I by Means of
the Synthesis of Resistance.
§6
Drive and Feeling.
§7
Feeling of the Object and Intuition of the Ideal.
§ 8
The Concept of the I and the Concept of the Not- I.
intuition of the Not-/ without also positing .freedom in opposition to it. All free-
dom, however, pertains to the /, and only by means of freedom does the
intuition of the I become an intuition of the I. But an intuition accom-
panied by a consciousness of the intuiting subject is called a "concept."
Therefore, the concept of the I and the concept of the Not-/ both arise from
the postulated alteration in the system of feeling.
§9
The Thing and the Representation of the Thing.
§ wa
Acting as Drawing a Line. Space.
§ wb
Matter in Space.
Since the positing of the object and the positing of acting are neces-
sarily united within the I, the former (the object) and the schema of the
latter [i.e., space] must necessarily be united as well. But uniting an ob-
ject with space is the same as filling space; consequently, all objects nec-
essarily occupy space, that is, they are material. The freedom of the
intellect consists in (i.e., expresses itself in) the synthesis of an object,
which is determined by the predicates of feeling, with a place in space,
which is determined by spontaneity; and, in this way, space becomes
continuous, and space, as well as matter, becomes infinitely divisible. The
determinacy of the latter (the intellect), without which the former (free-
dom) is impossible and which is not possible without the former, consists
in this: that the object must be posited in some sface or another, 5 and
that space must be filled with some sort of matter. There is no space with-
out matter, and vice versa. This is a matter of necessity; but it is a matter
of freedom that this object is not situated just in this space and that this
space does not belong just to this object.
§ 11
A Rational Being Posits Itself in Space as a
Practically Striving Being.
Every object obtains its place in space from its relation to the represent-
ing subject, and, apart from this relationship, no determination of place
is possible. Anything that is supposed to determine the position of an-
other thing in space, however, must itself be in space. Accordingly, a ra-
tional being posits itself in space as a practically striving being. This
internally felt striving, which obtains the form of intuition through the
act of intuiting the object (an act that is necessarily united with feeling),
5
"in einen Raum tiberhaupt": that is, "in space as such or in general."
6
''mit Materie tiberhaupt."
72 M~or Points of the Wissenschaftslehre
§ 12
Real External Efficacy.
§ 13
The Intelligible Pure Will. The Feeling of "Ought."
The I as an Individual in the Realm of Rational Beings.
§ 14
Willing and Doing.
Unification of Cognition of the Object with the Will.
The pure will is the immediate object of all consciousness and of all
reflection (§ 13). Reflection, however, is discursive; consequently, the
pure will must be a manifold. It is not originally manifold, but first be-
comes so by being related to its own {original} limitation, by means of
which it {first} becomes a will. This relation of the pure will to its own
limitation occurs within the act of reflection itself, which is absolutely
free; and the freedom and entire essence of this act of reflection consist
precisely in this act of relating9 {the pure will to the original limitation}.
The freedom of this act consists, in part, in the fact that such a relation-
ship is established at all and, in part, in the fact that it occurs in this or
that way. Insofar as it is simply thought of, this act of reflection appears
as an act of willing; insofar as it is intuited, it appears as a "doing." This
same act of reflection is the foundation of all empirical consciousness.
In an individual act of such reflection, a rational being views itself in
two different ways or under two different aspects. On the one hand, it
views itself as limited; on the other, it views itself as active in describing
this limitation. The former is its outer aspect, the latter is its inner one;
and, as a result, it ascribes to itself a general organ {(a body)} consisting
of an inner and an outer organ. Feeling is the relation of limitation to
reflection. The source of the limitation is something that exists only for
the ideal activity engaged in thinking about the real activity, and the
immediate union of cognition of an object with the will is thereby
explained.
§ 15
The I's Task of Limiting Its Will by Itself.
But a limitation is not a limitation of the I, and does not exist for the
I, unless it is one the I assigns to itself. Accordingly, the original/imitation
of the will can signify nothing but a task for the I: the task of limiting
its own will. The distinctive harbinger of this task within empirical
9
Reading, with H, "Beziehen" for K's "Beziehung" ("relation").
74 Major Points of the Wissenschaftslehre
§ 16
The Summons to Engage in Free Activity,
Coming from a Rational Being 10 Outside of Us.
§ 17
In its Activity upon Itself the I
Discovers 11 Itself as a Willing Subject.
As we know, the I is what acts upon itself, 12 and, by virtue of this self-
directed activity, it is a willing subject. "The I discovers itself': this ob-
viously means that it discovers itself to be engaged in acting upon itself.
The I discovers 13 itself to be a willing subject in this self-directed activity,
because its original nature-which cannot be derived from anything
higher, but must instead be presupposed for {the possibility of} any ex-
planation-consists in an act of willing. Every object of {the l's} free re-
flection upon itself must consequently become its own willing.
Every act of reflection is an act of self-determining, and the reflecting
subject immediately intuits this act of self-determining. But it intuits this
act through the medium of the imagination, and, accordingly, it intuits
it as a sheer power of self-determination. By means of this abstract act of
thinking (as a power) the I arises for itself as "something"-something
purely spiritual, 14 something exclusively ideal-and becomes conscious
10
"einer Vernunft."
11
Reading, with the text of the summary that appears at the end of§ 17 in H, "findet"
for K's "fiihlt" ("feels").
12
Reading, with H, "das auf sich selbst thatige" for K's "das durch sich selbst thatige"
("what is active through itself"), a reading that is confirmed by the rest of this paragraph.
" Reading, with H, "findet" for K's "fiihle."
14
"ein rein Geistiges," i.e., something purely "intellectual."
Major Points of the Wisseruchaftslehre 75
of its own activity of pure thinking and willing, and becomes conscious
of it as such, {that is, as an activity}. This act of reflection, however, is an
act of self-determining; but the previously described act of imagination
is an act of the I, and it is therefore determinate. Consequently, in one
and the same undivided act, pure thinking is made sensible by the imag-
inati9n, and what is made sensible by the imagination is determined by
pure thinking (reciprocal interaction of intuiting and thinking). This
determination produces a self-contained power of the I as a sensible
force, as well as a determinacy of this power 15 (concept of substantiality).
An object is added in thought to the determinacy of this sensible force,
and the Iauer determines the former in an act of thinking (concept
of causality).
§ 18
The I in Opposition to Reason and Freedom Outside of Itself
as well as in Opposition to Things Outside of Itself.
Since the I, when engaged in the act of intuiting its own act of pure
thinking, is at the same time determinate, this same pure act of thinking
(that is to say, the I as a product of this act of thinking, the I as a free
being) necessarily becomes something determinate for the I. But a free
being, as such, can be determined only by the task of freely determining
itself. When the I thinks of this, it proceeds from a general sphere of
freedom as such (as what is determinable) to itself (as what is determi-
nate within this sphere) and thereby posits itself as an individual, in op-
position to a {realm of} reason and freedom outside of itself.
In this determinate act of thinking, the I is at the same time free, and
it thinks of what is determinate only insofar as it does so with freedom;
consequently, it also confers freedom upon what is determinate. But
freedom within mere determinacy (as in nature) is independent being. 16 In
this manner, a being that is independent of the I is attributed to the Not-
1, which first becomes a thing thereby. Insofar as the Not-I possesses this
type of being, it is what endures and is determinable throughout all
the different determinations it receives through the freedom of the I.
The act of thinking of the I as a free but limited being and that of think-
ing of the Not-/ as a self-subsisting thing 11 mutually condition each other.
The I intuits its own freedom only in the objects of its acting, and it in-
tuits these objects only insofar as it freely acts upon them.
§ 19
Articulated Body. Organized Nature.
I. What is philosophy?
II. How will philosophy be dealt with within the context of the system
of the Wisseruchaftslehre?
III. How has the previous version of this system 2 been altered, and how
will the Wisseruchaftslehre be dealt with in this series of lectures?
[ 77]
78 First Introduction
one entertains representations; 3 hence all one can say is that one is con-
scious of representations of things outside of us, and in fact, one really
asserts no more than this when one says that there are objects outside of
us. No person can immediately affirm that he has senses, but merely
that he is compelled to assume something of the sort. Consciousness is
concerned only with what can be found within consciousness-and
these are representations.
4
• Nevertheless, we do not content ourselves with this, but quickly in-
troduce a distinction between the representation and the object; and we
assert that beyond the representation there lies something else, some-
thing real or actual. 5 As soon as we become aware of this distinction be-
tween the representation and the object, we say that they both exist. All
rational beings (even idealists and egoists, so long as they are not stand-
ing behind a lectern) continuously affirm the existence of an actual
world. Any person who has raised himself to the level of reflecting upon
4 this phenomenon occurring within the human soul must be astonished
at the inconsistency this appears to involve. Hence one poses the follow-
ing question: Why do we assume that actual things exist, beyond and
in addition to our representations? Many people do not raise this ques-
tion, either because they do not notice the distinction between represen-
tations and things, or simply because they are too thoughtless to raise
such a question. But anyone who does pose this question has thereby
raised himself to the level of philosophical inquiry. The aim of philo-
sophical inquiry is to answer this question, and the science that answers
it is philosophy.
Whether there actually is such a science is a question that must remain
undecided for the moment. It is, however, well known that much effort
has already been devoted to attempts to answer the previously indicated
question; for this has always been the task of philosophy. In trying to
answer this question, however, most philosophers have proceeded in a
one-sided manner, and hence their answers had to be one-sided as well.
They thought, for example, that all they had to do was to inquire
' What Fichte actually says is that insofar as one is conscious, one is a "representing
creature" or a "representing being" (ein vorstellendes Wesen). Throughout this translation,
all technical occurrences of the term VorsteUung have been rendered as "representation."
Fichte's employment of this term is derived from Kant (and Reinhold), for whom it des-
ignates the immediate object of consciousness, i.e., that which is "placed before"--vorge-
stellt-the mind (cp. Locke's "ideas" or Hume's "perceptions of the mind"). Thus the verb
vorstellen, which is somewhat awkwardly rendered here as "to represent" or "to entertain
representations," means no more than this: to have something "on one's mind," i.e., to be
conscious of anything at all.
4
AII paragraph breaks that I have introduced into the text of K are marked by the sym-
bol"•·"
• "liege noch etwas wiirkliches." The adjective wirklich, which is often rendered as "real"
but is normally translated in this volume as "actual," derives from the verb wirken, the root
meaning of which is "to have an effect." Fichte fully exploits this intimate etymological con-
nection between efficacy and reality ("actuality").
First Introduction 79
whether God, immortality, and freedom exist, i.e., whether there is any-
thing actual outside of these representations and corresponding to
them. But the question philosophy has to answer is not whether these
particular representations possess any reality, but rather whether any of
our representations possess any reality whatsoever.
In ~aintaining that something else exists in addition to a particular
representation, one asserts the objective validity of that representation.
Thus, to inquire concerning the objective validity of the Deity means to
investigate whether God is merely a thought, or whether there is some-
thing else, beyond this thought, which corresponds to it. The question
concerning the objectivity of the world is every bit as interesting as those
concerning the objectivity of the Deity and of immortality, and if one
has not answered the former question one cannot answer the Iauer ones.
Philosophy is thus something that is at least conceivable; that is to say,
it is conceivable that one might ask about the objectivity of our repre-
sentations, and it is worthy of a rational being to ponder the answer to
this question. The Idea of philosophy 6 is thereby demonstrated, but the
only way in which its reality can be demonstrated is by actually construct-
ing a system of philosophy.
Just as the human mind can pose these questions, so can it also pose
many other ones, which it can then proceed to answer or to attempt
to answer. If this occurs in conformity with specific laws it is called
"reasoning,''7 and a science comes into being thereby, but not yet phi-
losophy, which is devoted solely to answering the previously indicated
question.
Re. II: To be sure, people also philosophized in former times, but only
in an obscure manner, not yet based upon any clear concept. The ques-
tion concerning the objective validity of our representations has been
particularly insisted upon by the skeptics. It was one of the greatest of
these skeptics, Hume, who awoke Kant. 8 Kant, however, constructed no
6
"Die Idee der Philosophic." "Idea" (or "transcendental Idea") is a term Kant employed
to designate a "necessary concept of reason to which no corresponding object can be given
in sense-experience" (Krilik tier Tti71en Vernunfl, A3271B383 [henceforth KRV and cited ac-
cording to the pagination of both the first ( 1781 = A) and second ( 1787 = B) editions;
English translation by Norman Kemp Smith, Criliqw afPurt R:uuon (New York: Macmillan
Press, 1g63)]). Kant's examples indude the concepu ("Ideas") of God, freedom, and im-
mortality. In order to remind readers of the technical, Kantian background of this term,
"Idea" is capitalized throughout this translation.
7
"so wird RA.ESON'N'IRT."
8
See Kant's famous remark in the Preface to his Prali!grmlt'1llJ zu eiMT jedm kii.nfligm Mt/4-
physik ( 1783) about being aw-dkened from his "dogmatic slumbers" by his reading of Hume.
In Kant's Gesammelle &hriflen, ed. Konigliche Preu~ischen Akademie der Wissen-
schaften (tgo:z-to; rpt., Berlin: de Gruyter, 1g68) [henceforth KGS], IV: 200. English
translation by Lewis White Beck, Prolegomena lo AfiJI FUluTe Melaphysia (Indianapolis:
Bobbs-Merrill, 1950).
80 First Introduction
results are established is quite different. Kant does not derive the laws of
human thinking in a rigorously scientific manner. But this is precisely
what the Wissenschaftslehre is supposed to do. It provides a derivation of
the laws that apply to any finite rational being whatsoever. Because it is
based merely upon experience, the Kantian system merely asserts the
laws of human reason, but the Wissenschaftslehre proves these laws. "I
prove something to someone" means that I lead him to the point where
he recognizes that he has already conceded the truth of some proposi-
tion simply because he has previously conceded the truth of some other
proposition. Every proof thus presupposes that the person to whom one
wishes to prove something accepts something else as already proven, and
two people who can agree on nothing are unable to prove anything to
each other. Accordingly, since the Wissenschaftslehre wishes to provide a
proof of the laws in accordance with which a finite, rational being gen-
erates its cognitions, it must base this demonstration upon something.
And since it wishes to provide a foundation for our knowledge, 1 ~ it must
begin with something that every person will concede. If there is no such
thing, then systematic philosophy is impossible.
The Wissenschaftslehre calls upon every person to reflect upon what he
does when he says "1." According to the Wissenschaftslehre, what happens
when one says "I" is this: one supposes that one posits oneself, and that
one posits oneself as a subject-object. One cannot think "I" without do-
ing this. The identity of the positing subject and the posited object 14
completely .exhausts the concept of 1-hood, 15 insofar as this concept is
8 postulated by the Wissenschaftslehre. We do not here import into this con-
cept anything else that one might otherwise think of in conjunction with
self-positing. The Wissenschaftslehre can do nothing with a person who
will not concede this identity. This is the first thing that the Wissen-
schaftslehre demands of everyone. In addition, it asks one to consult one's
own consciousness once again; and it claims that if one does so, one will
discover the following: that one not only posits oneself, but also posits
something else in opposition to oneself-i.e., that one opposes some-
" Reading, with Krause's MS, "Wijkn" forK's "Wesen." Thanks to information supplied
by Fuchs, I have been able in this English edition to correct some mistranscriptions that
apr.;ar in the Meiner edition of the German text.
4
"die Identitiit des Setzenden und Gesetzten": i.e., the identity of the actively positing
subject and what is posited by means of this act. This is the same identity that, in the 17941
95 version of his system, Fichte tried (rather unsuccessfully) to convey by the term
Thathandlung.
The verb setz.en (here translated throughout as "to posit") is a basic term in Fichte's philo-
sophical vocabulary and is employed to designate the act of being aware or conscious of
anything whatsoever. The root meaning of setzen is "to place" or "to put," and thus it des-
ignates the reflective act in which the I "places" something before itself and thereby at-
tends to it. Though this term does indeed call attention to the action involved in all
consciousness, it does not, taken by itself, imply that the conscious subject somehow "cre-
ates" the object of which it is conscious.
" "Ichheit."
First Introduction 83
thing to oneself. 16 What is thereby posited in opposition is called "Not-
I," for the only thing said about it is that it is posited in opposition to the
I. One cannot yet call it "an object" or "the world," because, before one
can do so, one must first show how it becomes an object and a world.
Otherwise, ours would be nothing more than yet another variety of Pop-
ular Philosophy. 17
Everything else is derived from these presuppositions. Reason lies
within the I, finitude in the Not-1. The Wissenschaftslehre maintains that
everything that follows from this is valid for all finite, rational beings.
The Wissenschaftslehre then proceeds to exhibit the conditions that
make it possible for the I to posit itself and to oppose a Not-Ito itself, and
this is what proves its correctness. These conditions are the human mind's
original ways of acting. Whatever is required in order for the I to be able
to posit itself and to oppose a Not-I to itself is necessary. The Wissen-
schaftslehre demonstrates these conditions by means of a deduction.
A deductive proof proceeds as follows: We can assume that it is the
very nature of the human mind to posit itself and to oppose a Not-I to
itself; but if we assume this, we must also assume much else as well. This
is called "deducing," i.e., deriving something from something else. Kant
merely asserts .that one always proceeds in accordance with the cate-
gories, 18 whereas the Wissenschaftslehre asserts that one must proceed in
accordance with the categories-just as surely as one posits oneself as an
I. The conclusions are the same, but the Wissenschaftslehre connects them
to something higher as well.
( 1) Thus the Wissenschaftslehre seeks to discover within the inner work-
ings of finite, rational being as such 19 the foundation of all the thinking
that exists for us. This can be briefly expressed as follows: The essence of
reason consists in my positing myself; but I cannot do this without pos-
iting a world in opposition to myself, and indeed, a quite specific world:
16
"dap man sich nicht nur selbst setze, sondern claP man sich auch noch etwas entge-
gensetze." The reader should keep in mind that when the verb "oppose" occurs in this
translation, it always means enlgegensetz.en, "to posit in opposition" (hence the term "coun-
terposit"' coined by Peter Heath and John Lachs in their translation of TilL Science of Knqw[.
edge). By "opposition," therefore, Fichte does not always (or even usually) mean formal,
logical opposition. Indeed, the meaning of "opposition" in this text is often closer to sim-
ple "difference," in the sense that, in order to posit or to recognize a difference between x
andy, we must oppose them to each other.
17
The so-<a.lled Popular Philosophers formed a distinct movement in late eighteenth·
century German intellectual life and were frequent objects of Fichte's derision. "Popular
Philosophy" of this sort was characterized by a distrust of formal rigor, an inclination to
cultivate philosophy as a form of belles-lettres, and frequent appeal to the tribunal of
"healthy common sense." For information concerning this long-forgotten (though, in an-
other sense, perennial) philosophical movement, see chap. 13 of Lewis White Beck, Early
German Philos"flhy (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1g6g), and chap. 6 of
Beiser, TilL Fate of Reason.
18
See, e.g., Kant, KRV, ABoiB 1o6.
19
"in dem inneren Verfahren des endlichen Vernunftwesens iiberhaupt."
84 First Introduction
Re. III: (1) The investigations that make up the Wis.senschaftslehre will
here be conducted in a new manner, just as if they had never been con-
ducted before. This revised version will profit from the fact that, since
the time of the original version, the first principles have been further
developed and extended, and this facilitates a clearer understanding of
those principles themselves. 21 Moreover, from his conversations on the
subject with various people, your instructor has discovered the reason
why many still find his earlier statements to be unclear. All the same,
consideration will be given to the first presentation as well.
(2) The first presentation was made somewhat awkward by the fact
that the discussion of the conditions for the possibility of the principles
did not present these conditions in their natural order, but was instead
divided into a "theoretical" part and a "practical" part. As a result of this
division, many directly related issues were separated too widely from
one another. This will no longer occur in the present version, [which will
follow] {a method of presentation that is just the opposite of that fol- (17)
lowed by the author in his compendium of 1794, where he proceeded
from the theoretical portion of philosophy (i.e., from what had to be ex-
plained) to the practical part (i.e., to what was meant to serve as the basis
for explaining the former). In the present lectures, however, the hith-
erto familiar division between theoretical and practical philosophy is not
to be found. Instead, these lectures present philosophy as a whole, in the
2<l "Das erste dessen Resultat das Ding ist; dadurch zeigt sich, was eigentlich das Product
des Ich ist." This sentence, which is incomplete or incoherent as it stands, is construed by
Radrizzani to read: "The first act [that is, the act of self-positing], the product of which is
the thing, reveals what is really the product of the I."
21
This is presumably an allusion to Fichte's two major works that intervened between
the original•794f95 presentation of the first principles of his system (in GWL and GEWL)
and the present, revised version: the Grundlage des Naturrechls 1UJCh Principim tier Wiuen-
sdaaftslehre ( 1795"96) and the S,sl£m tier SiUenlehre nach den Prinupim der Wiuenschaftslehre
( 1798), in which (as the full titles of the two books declare) the principles of Fichte's phi-
losophy are "extended" into the fields of natural right (or natural law) and ethics.
86 First Introduction
(1) These lectures will be concerned with the first and deepest foun-
dations of philosophy. {Wissen.schaftslehre and philosophy are one and (17)
the same.}
Philosophy is not a collection of propositions that can be studied and
memorized as such; instead, it is a certain way of looking at things,
{a way of viewing things in accordance with certain principles,I} a par-
ticular way of thinking, which one must generate-within oneself. Anyone
who is not yet able to state correctly what philosophy is concerned with
still lacks a correct concept of philosophy.
As Kant said, it is an advantage for a science when its task can be ex-
pressed in a single formula. Kant himself reduced the task of philosophy
to answering the question, "How are synthetic judgments a priori pos-
sible?" {(Synthesis occurs when we go beyond our representations and (18)
connect something to them: what has to be shown is that one is impos-
sible without the other.)} Your instructor phrases the same question as
follows: "How do we come to assume that something external to us
corresponds to the representations within us?" These two questions are
the same.
I know that I am conscious of a representation of something. In ad-
dition to this, I also maintain that there exists a thing corresponding to
this representation, a thing that would exist even if I did not entertain a
representation of it. Yet the connection between the representation and
the thing is itself, in turn, nothing more than a representation, i.e.,
something within me. Nevertheless, we do not merely assert that we en-
tertain representations; we also maintain that things outside of these
representations correspond to these representations themselves. Ac-
cordingly, the representation of the connection between representations
and things would be a necessary representation. In this case, therefore,
12 a connection has already been made; and even though we are not yet
aware of the act of connecting, such an act is necessary nevertheless.
1
"Geschichtspunkt nach gewissen Principien."
88 Second Introduction
(2) Not philosophy itself, but the philosophical task, the tendency toward
philosophy, has its origin in the fad1 that we are conscious, {which can-
not be and does not need to be proven}. 8 Among those determinations
and states of our consciousness, which we designate under the general
name "representations," there are some that are accompanied by a feel-
ing of necessity, while others depend purely upon our own free choice. 4
{This is equally undeniable.}
( 1) No one doubts this fact. There can be no question whatsoever
about it, and anyone who still demands a proof of it does not know what
he is asking. (Example: Tiedemann, 5 who, in his Theaetetus, wishes to
prove that he entertains representations.)
(2) Pay careful attention to how this fact is stated: It is asserted that
there are representations accompanied by a feeling of necessity, that {we
are compelled to assume that} there are things that correspond to these
representations. It is not claimed that things {are or that they} exist. We
can be consciOtLS only of the objects of our consciOtLSness.
(3) Something else is now attached to this indubitably certain fact,
namely, the Idea of a ground or foundation. 6 The philosopher asks the
following question: What is the foundation of those representations of
mine that are accompanied by a feeling of necessity? That there is some
foundation is taken for granted. The question is simply, What is this
foundation?
2
"fragt nun nach dem Grunde dieser nothwendigen Vorstellungen in der INTELUGENz:•
A The task of philosophy as a whole may be expressed in the following question: What is
the basis of what occurs in consciousness accompanied by a feeling of necessity? (Or, what is the basis
of the necessary representations within the intellect?) (p. 18). [Lettered footnotes supply
supplementary passages from H. Unlike the passages enclosed within scroll brackets in the
text itself, which generally go beyond or clarify the text of K, these supplementary pas-
sages represent alternative-and sometimes conflicting-formulations of points and argu-
ments elaborated in K.]
'"fACTO."
8
Philosophy begins with the fact that we are conscious of ourselves, which cannot be and
does not need to be proven (p. 18).
• "Willkiihr."
5
Dietrich Tiedemann (1748-1803) was a professor of philosophy at Marburg and au-
thor of a work entitled Theiitet, oder iiber des menschliche Wissen, ein Beytrag zur Vemu,Yt-
Kritik, which appeared in 1794, the same year as the first part of Fichte's Grundlage der
gesamten Wissenschaftslehre. Tiedemann's work remained a favorite target of Fichte's scorn
throughout his Jena period, though, as Radrizzani has pointed out, Fichte's criticism of
Tiedemann in this passage appears to be based upon a distorted reading.
6
"die Idee eines Grundes."
Second Introduction 8g
{For example, a blow from behind (fact) forces me to look. around for (19)
the cause (necessary representation) (since it is possible that I might not
have received this blow or that I might have received a weaker or a stron-
ger one). What, however, is the reason that I act in this manner? Why am
I forced to in fer that there is something lying beyond and corresponding
to these necessary representations of mine? Why does what is contingent
appear within my consciousness in just the way that it does and not in
some other way? This indicates and is the foundation.}
A synthesis is already contained in the very task. that all philosophy
assumes, for philosophy proceeds from a fact to its foundation. {Now,
however, one can raise a second question:} But how do I ever arrive at
the point of proceeding from a fact to its foundation? {Or, how is phi-
losophy possible?} This is an important question, for philosophical in-
quiry consists precisely in posing and in answering just such questions;
and, since this question lies at the foundation of philosophy itself, in or-
13 der to answer it one has to philosophize about philosophy. The question
concerning the possibility of philosophy is thus itself a philosophical
question. Philosophy provides an answer to the question concerning its
own possibility. Accordingly, one can demonstrate the possibility of phi-
losophy only by arguing in a circular fashion, or, philosophy requires no
proof and is simply and absolutely possible.
We must now ask. how one arrives at the previous question. What is
one doing when one raises 7 this question [concerning the foundation
of representations accompanied by a feeling of necessity]? The ques-
tion concerning the foundation 8 is itself one of our necessary repre-
sentations. c
One seeks a foundation only for contingent things. Philosophy as
such, however, seeks the foundation of necessary representations; there-
fore, it must consider such representations to be contingent. It would be
absurd to 'inquire concerning the foundation of something one did not
consider to be contingent. "I consider something to be contingent"
means that I am able to think. that it might not have existed at all or that
it might have been altogether different than it is. Our representations of
the universe are contingent in this sense; we think. that the earth might
very well have been different than it is, and we can imagine ourselves on
7 Reading, with Krause's MS, "aufwirf" for K's ustreift.~
• unie Frage nach dem Gmnde." This might be betteT translated as "the demand for a
reaS(m." Thmughout this entire section, Fichte capitalizes on the multiple senses of the
wont Gnmd (both "foundation" and "reason"). Thus, in a previous passage discussing the
presence within us of representations accompanied by a feeling of necessity, when he asks
"welches ist dieser GTUnd?" his question might just as easily (and more natun.lly) be ren-
dered, "Why do we have such representations?" Once again, it might be helpful to recall
that the German name for "the principle of sufficient reason~ is Salz d6 Gn.ndts.
c But this very question already belongs to the domain of what appears [within con-
sciousness] accompanied by a feeling of necessity (p. 19).
go Second Introduction
sophical inquiry; i.e., it is to call into question the entire process 12 of rea-
son which makes us search for a foundation for everything contingent.
Philosophy itself is supposed to provide an a~swer to this question, and
to this extent philosophy is self-grounding.
{Corollary to this section: What is present within consciousness and ac- (:
co!Dpanied by a feeling of necessity is experience in its entirety. Insofar
as we inquire about the foundation thereof, we assume the existence of
something lying beyond all experience, something that is only produced
by pure thought for the purpose of providing a necessary foundation
for experience. The legitimacy and necessity of seeking such a founda- -
tion has its original roots within reason itself, and this is first deduced
within philosophy.}
Thus the first and highest condition for all philosophical inquiry is to
bear in mind that one will encounter absolutely nothing at all within
philosophy unless one produces from within oneself everything about
which one reasons. Philosophical ideas cannot be given to anyone; they
have to be generated within one's own mind.
(3) {The question just raised can be answered in two diametrically op-
posed ways:
(A) One can treat the representations accompanied by a feeling of ne-
cessity as products of presupposed things in themselves: dogmatism.
(B) One can treat them as products of a presupposed representing
subject: idealism.}
The dogmatist assumes that there are things that exist in themselves;
he postulates their existence, for they are not contained within the fact
of my consciousness. No dogmatist claims to be immediately conscious of
things in themselves, {which are not supposed to be facts of conscious-
ness}. The dogmatist merely claims that one cannot explain the facts of
consciousness without presupposing the existence of things in them-
selves. Neither dogmatists of the old-fashioned variety, nor those Critical
dogmatists who consider the material of representations to be some-
thing given, l!l seem to appreciate this fact about their own position; for
they inveigh loudly against any attempt to go beyond consciousness,
even though this is just what they themselves are doing.
The idealist accounts for representation on the basis of a representing
subject, whose existence he presupposes. This representing subj~ct is
not an immediate object of consciousness either, {for' the representations
of which we become conscious are mere determinations or states of con-
sciousness (that is, of the representing subject) and are not the repre-
senting subject itself}. Ordinary consciousness is always preoccupied
12
Reading, with Krause's MS, "Verfahren" for K's "Verstehen."
'" "die sich noch Stoff geben lajkn." "Critical dogmatism" is Fichte's name for the kind
of "Kantianism" that explains representations as products of things in themselves.
92 Second Introduction
.. Since, according to this system, our soul operates in a purely passiVt! manner, there is no
place for freedom within the dogmatic system, so long, that is, as the dogmatist wishes to be
consistent (p. 20}.
14 .. unbestimmt."'
G Dogmatism is also indeterminale It cannot explain what is supposed to be explained:
What is an intellect? It presupposes something that does not appear within consciousness
at all, namely, a thing in itself. Moreover, it cannot explain how a representation can be
understood as an "effect" of something (p. 21).
Second Introduction 93
not yet been cultivated to the point where he has come to feel that our
representations are products of our I or who denies this feeling.}
Thus the place to begin a confrontation with dogmatism is not from
the side of speculation, but rather from that of innermost feeling. Dog-
matism is intolerable to a noble and superior soul, for whom the most
lo~ty and important thought is the thought of self-sufficiency and free-
dom. {This is the aspect of dogmatism which respectable persons find
most shocking: that it denies the feeling of freedom or spontaneous self-
activity.}
Our consciousness includes the feeling of freedom as well as the feel-
ing of constraint. The former is the consequence of our infinitude; the
latter is the consequence of our finitude. The former leads us back into
ourselves, whereas the latter directs us toward the world. A person who
confounds these two feelings is inconsistent.
16 The human species, as well as the individual, begins with the feeling
of constraint. We all begin with experience, but then we are driven back
into ourselves, where we discover our own freedom. Everything depends
upon which feeling is predominant ina particular person, upon which
he will refuse to allow to be taken from him {- the feeling of depen-
dency and constraint (as in the case of dogmatism) or the feeling of free-
dom and self-sufficiency (as in the case of idealism)}." The conflict
between dogmatism and idealism is, in fact, not a proper philosophical
conflict at all, for the two systems share no common ground whatsoever.
If they remain consistent, each denies the principles of the other, and a
philosophical conflict can arise only when both parties agree upon the
same principles, while disagreeing merely about what these principles
imply. Instead, we have here a struggle between two different ways of
thinking. The consistent dogmatist provides himself with his own anti-
dote, for he cannot endure this way of thinking for very long. {The best
way to cure a dogmatist and to win him over is to let him remain con-
sistent with himself; for his system must eventually lead him to fatalism,
and thereby he will finally be won over to idealism and will transfer his
allegiance to the side of the latter.}
nevertheless, he knows how to locate this feeling within himself and how (22)
to produce it through a free act of self-positing. The dogmatist, on the
other hand, explains this same feeling as illusory and thereby denies the
reality of freedom itself.}
The dogmatist's presupposition [the thing in itself} is nothing but a
mere thought. Moreover, his presupposition cannot be justified, for it f
does not even explain what it is supposed to explain. As soon as there
appears another system that does explain everything, then there can no
longer be any place for the dogmatist's presupposition.
The idealist says: Think about yourself, and pay attention to how you
accomplish this. You will thereby discover a self-reverting activity. 15 {I.e.,
you will discover that you determine yourself through your own activity.
The idealist starts with this determination of self-activity.} The idealist
thus adopts as his foundation something that actually occurs within con-
sciousness, whereas the dogmatist's foundation is something { = the
thing in itself} that one can merely think of as lying outside of all con- ~·,
sciousness.
To this one could object as follows: Everything the idealist demands
from me is nothing but a representation of my self-reverting activity; it
is therefore not a self-reverting activity "in itself," which occurs apart
from my representation of it. {This objection is raised by Aenesidemus. 16}
Response: We are not talking about anything more than the occurrence of
this representation! 1 It would be futile to try to introduce a distinction
between a self-reverting activity and a representation of the same. For
an activity of representation apart from representing would be a
contradiction. 17 Every active substance should be treated as substance;
philosophy has to show where this substrate comes from and where it
occurs. Here we are dealing with nothing but an immediate positing of
the I, and this is a representation.
15
"eine in dich zuriickgehende Thatigkeit."
16 A reference to G. E. Schulze (1761-1833), professor of philosophy at Helmstiidt, who
raised this objection against Kant and Reinhold in 1792 in his anonymously published
work entitled Aenesidemus oder uber die Fundament£ der von dem Herrn PTofessur Reinhold in
}1!114 geliifertm El.emento.r-Philosophie. Nebst ei~r Vertheidigung tU1 SkEpticismus gegm die An-
maasungen der Vernunftkritik. Fichte responded to Schulze's criticism in his own "Review of
Aenesidemus" (1793) (in SW, I: 3-25 = AA I, 2: 41-67; English translation in EPW, pp. 59-
77· An excerpt from Schulze's Amesidemus is translated by di Giovanni in Between &n1 and
Hegel, pp. 104-35). For further information concerning Schulze/Aenesidemus, see chap. 9
of Beiser's Tlu Fate of &ason.
1
&spunse: We are not and could not be speaking of any such self-revening activity in
itself and apart from all representation. All representation ceases at this point. What, for
example, could "writing" mean if I were to abstract from everything that is required in
order to write? (p. 22).
17
"Denn eine Thatigkeit des Vorstellens auser dem Vorstellen ware ein Widerspruch."
The text of K appears to be corrupt at this point. A possible emendation, suggested by the
parallel passage in H, is to substitute "des Vorstellendes" for "des Vorstellens," in which
case the sentence would read: "An activity of the representing subject other than an act of
representing would be a contradiction."
Second Introduction 95
The idealist's principle is present within consciousness, and thus his
17 philosophy can be called "immanent." But he also finds that his princi-
ple does not occur within consciousness on its own; instead, it occurs as
a result of his own free acting. In the course of ordinary consciousness,
one encounters no concept of the I, no self-reverting activity. Neverthe-
les~, one is able to think of one's I when a philosopher calls upon one to
do so; and then one discovers this concept by means of free activity, and
not as something given}
Every philosophy presupposes something, something that it does not
demonstrate and on the basis of which it explains and demonstrates ev-
erything else. This is also true of idealism. Idealism presupposes the pre-
viously mentioned free activity as its first principle, on the basis of which
it must then explain everything else; but this principle itself cannot be
explained any further. {To be sure, each of these two systems postulates
something. But the idealist does not presuppose anything outside of his
own consciousness; he merely postulates that this free activity of his I is
that principle that cannot be derived from anything else. The first, im-
mediate principle with which he begins is his consciousness of freedom.}
Dogmatism is transcendent; it soars beyond consciousness. Idealism is
transcendental; for though it remains within consciousness, it shows how
it is possible to go beyond consciousness. That is to say, it shows how we
come to assume that there are things outside of ourselves which corre-
spond to our representations. Whether one embraces or rejects such a
philosophy is something that depends upon one's inmost way of think-
ing and upon one's faith in oneself. A person who has faith in himself
cannot accept any variety of dogmatism or fatalism. This is what Kant
often refers to as "the interest of reason." He speaks of an interest of
speculative reason and of an interest of practical reason and opposes
these two to each other. 18 From the perspective of Kant's philosophy this
is correct, but it is not correct in itself; for reason is always one and has
only one interest. The interest of reason lies in confidence in one's own
self-sufficiency and freedom, and reason's interest in unity and coher-
ence is a consequence of this prior interest. One could call the latter "the
interest of speculative reason," because it demands that the whole be
constructed upon a single foundation and be connected therewith. K
Idealism is more compatible with this interest than is dogmatism.
J His [the idealist's] principle is not something given, but is discovered through a free
exercise of activity, in the free action of self-positing (p. 2 2 ).
18
See, for example, KRV, A462/B4goff. and A8o4ffi832ff.
K The idealist's system thus rests upon his faith in himself or in his own self-sufficiency,
or upon what Kant called "the interest of reason." That is to say: for which of these two
systems will reason decide when they are weighed against each other? For our reason-
theoretical as well as practical-has but a single interest, and this is unity. Thus, when Kant
speaks of "two interests," these are merely different modifications of one and the same
interest (p. 23).
g6 Second Introduction
(5) {The idealist indicates within consciousness that activity of the rep- (23)
resenting subject which he will use to explain representations. But it
goes without saying that he accomplishes this not by referring to a rep-
resentation that is necessary and therefore discovered within conscious-
ness, but rather by means of a representation that has to be freely and
actively generated within consciousness. (It would be contradictory for
this free act of self-representation and self-positing to be somehow
given.) Against the dogmatist, who treats this same activity as derived
from something else (and thus, not as an activity at all), the idealist can-
not prove that this activity of the representing subject should be treated
as the ultimate foundation of consciousness, nor can he prove that this
activity cannot be derived from something higher and that it must in-
stead be treated as the highest principle from which everything else
must be derived. On the contrary, the necessity of making this assump-
tion is based upon nothing beyond the idealist's own manner of
thinking.}
If one is ever willing to concede the truth of idealism's claim and to
accept this assertion as one's principle {(i.e., as something that is certain
in itself, and not merely as something that is true),} then everything that
18 occurs within consciousness can be strictly derived therefrom. But whether
one will, in fact, concede this principle is something that depends upon
one's own manner of thinking.
[fhis demonstration of the idealist's system or derivation of the con-
tents of consciousness proceeds as follows:] {The representing subject
(or I) is a consciousness of many different representations, including
representations accompanied by a feeling of necessity (this is the fact in
question). But whatever the representing subject may be, it is so only by
means of its own self-activity (this follows from the principle); hence it
likewise follows that it is also only by means of self-activity that it (the
representing subject) is a consciousness of representations accompanied
by a feeling of necessity; that is to say, all representations, and specifi-
cally, those representations that are accompanied by a feeling of neces-
sity, are products of this representing subject.
Insofar as the propositio major (that the representing subject is a con- (24)
sciousness of manifold representations) is concerned, it is simply a mat-
ter of differing linguistic usage whether one says "is a consciousness" or
"possesses consciousness." The latter, however, is a consequence of dog-
matism; for "our I" or "the representing subject" or "consciousness" are
all one and the same. Our I is nothing other than consciousness itself.
The most important thing is not to misunderstand the propositio minor:
"the representing subject is whatever it is only by means of self-activity." This
proposition should not be taken to suggest any creation of representa-
tions, or the presence of some sort of substrate; it asserts merely that the
I posits itself, i.e., that a self-reverting activity is the essence of the I.
Second Introduction 97
This activity produces the concept of the I. The I is all that it is only
because it posits itself.}
One says, "I possess consciousness"-as if consciousness were an acci-
dental property of the I. This distinction between consciousness and the
I is introduced rather late, and philosophy must explain the basis for
making such a distinction. It is true that I must ascribe to myself other
determinations or predicates in addition to consciousness, but still, it is
only by means of representations that we become conscious of any ac-
tions. Therefore, nothing can exist for us except insofar as we possess a
consciousness of it. 19 One can see at first glance that it is correct to say,
"My consciousness is I, and I am my consciousness." To be sure, con-
sciousness includes representations accompanied by a feeling of neces-
sity; or rather, the representing subject is conscious of what is present
accompanied by a feeling of necessity. But whatever the representing
subject might be, it is such only by means of its own spontaneous self-
activity,20 and thus, even those representations that are accompanied by
a feeling of necessity are products of self-activity.
It is not correct to think that the I becomes conscious by means of
something else. The I is nothing but its own activity. The representing
subject is identical with its own self-activity, which constitutes its very es-
sence; and thus, in every specific situation, its essence consists in a cer-
tain, specific self-activity. The I posits itself: this means that it is a self-
reverting activity. A person who cannot abstract from all objects is
incapable of ever becoming a philosopher who can penetrate to the
foundation of things. Later on we shall see that one must also add [to the
I] the thought of a substrate; but until then, we must abstract from this.
Since everything the representing subject is supposed to be has to owe
its existence solely to self-activity, it follows that those representations
that are accompanied by a feeling of necessity are also produced by the
representing subject.
sein soli, ist doch nur ein Bewustsein." More literally: "but still, all actions pius through
representation. Everything that is supposed to exist for us, therefore, is only a conscious-
ness."
20
"nun aber ist das Vorstellende ... durch Selbstthlitigkeit." Though normally trans-
lated simply as "spontaneity" or "spontaneous activity," SelbsuMtigluil is here usually ren-
dered, more literally, as "self-activity" (or ~spontaneous self-activity") in order to emphasize
its quite special significance within the context of the Wissmsclw.ftslehre. Note that Fichte's
claim in this passage is not that the I "makes the world," but rather that all consdowness
involves and springs from an element of free spontaneity.
gS Second Introduction
of the representing subject is an instance of free acting, then the entire series of its actions
or representations is also free--even if it is at the same time conditioned. These acts and
representations must indeed occur in the sequence in which they do occur, because they
proceed from the first act. But they are nevertheless free acts, because the first act is free
(p. 24).
25 "Durch diesen Beweis, da{J iiberhaupt es so sey." The translation supplies the missing
description of the general conclusion that is already supposed to have been established.
24 "ein KRITISCHER oder REEu.ER lDEALISMUS."
l 00 Second Introduction
This proof is based upon on one's own intuition of oneself: Observe all
the conditions of your self-reverting activity, and you will discover that
many other activities are necessary in addition to the first one-namely,
a second, a third, etc.}
The I is what it is, because it posits itself through itself. This act of
self-positing is possible only in a certain way; and thus this act of self-
positing presupposes another [act of positing], which, in turn, presup-
poses another, etc.
In order to talk about anything mental or spiritual one has to make
use of sensible expressions, which gives rise to many misunderstandings,
for the signs employed are often arbitrary. Therefore, when one em-
ploys a sign, one must first provide an explanation of it. But when one
has to explain something for which the words are lacking, one then has
to explain the thing itself, i.e., one must explain it genetically. I posit my-
self, and, in doing this, I pay attention to the fact that I posit myself in
a particular manner and that I can posit myself only in this way. Per-
haps, however, there are also many other things I can accomplish only in
this particular way, in which case we can speak of a "law"; and this is the
sense in which one speaks of "laws of intuition," "laws of thinking," etc.
Such necessary ways of thinking are the same as laws of thinking. In fact,
laws really apply only toan active being, whom we normally consider to
be free; and just as we say [to the latter] "you must behave in such and
such a manner," so, in an analogous way, we say that a rational being
must behave in this way or that, and these constitute the laws of reason.
{"This is the manner in which our reason necessarily operates"; in
other words, "these are the laws of thinking," and, if this is true, then the
results of these laws must agree with experience. For example, the re-
sults of these laws of thinking must be that objects are in space, appear-
ances are in time, etc.}
The broader task of idealism may thus be described as follows: We
have already seen that the positing subject and what is posited are one
and the same. I can posit the I only in a certain way; but I cannot do this
without also positing a second thing, which, in turn, I cannot posit with-
out also positing a third thing, etc. In this manner we might be able to
derive from the first act all those laws that explain how there comes to be
a world for us. This is what idealism has to demonstrate.
(7) Most idealists before Kant claimed that representations lie within us
because we produce them within ourselves. As they understood the mat-
ter, representations were something they could either produce or not pro-
duce. This sort of idealism is groundless.
One can imagine two different paths along which one's reasoning
21 might proceed. One path starts with the familiar structure of the world,
i.e., with those necessary representations that occur within conscious-
Second Introduction 10 1
ness. This way of proceeding amounts to no more than feeling one's way
by trial and error. This is not a satisfactory method, since the results are
always undecided and merely pending, even in one's own eyes.
The other path starts with a description of the way in which a repre-
senting being acts, and then proceeds to show how certain representa-
tion.s come into being in accordance with the laws that govern the acting
of such a being. In this case, all one is observing is the manner in which
something comes into being. When one proceeds in this manner, one ab-
stracts from everything actual. If one has the correct first principle and
if one has inferred correctly from this principle, then the results of one's
deductions must agree with ordinary experience. If they do not, this
failure does not directly imply the incorrectness of the entire enterprise,
but indicates only the presence of a faulty inference somewhere
therein-which one must then try to discover. What has to be shown is
that the I could not posit itself without also positing much more as well.
Uk.e the first law, which established that I can posit myself only in that
specific manner, these additional conditions must be established exclu-
sively within self-intuition. This is the path our system will follow.
Remark: The system can only call upon everyone to look. within him-
self while observing how this is accomplished. Nevertheless, it lays claim
to universal validity and asserts that every rational being must behave in
the manner it describes. This claim is justified; for if one supposes that
the essence of reason really does consist in self-positing, then all of those
actions whose necessity is established by showing that they follow from
this act of self-positing can equally be said to follow from the nature of
reason itself, and therefore, every rational being must acknowledge the
correctness of the system. M
Moreover, in order to understand this system, one has to reproduce
within oneself all the actions examined here. For the system· does not
enumerate a series of facts, which are simply given as such; instead, it
presents a series of actions, while at the same time observing that upon
which this series depends.
The philosopher is not a mere observer; instead, he conducts exper-
iments with the nature of consciousness and turns to himself for answers
to his specific questions. This is a system for persons who are able to
think. for themselves. {One of the features of this system is that it cannot
be learned in a historical manner.} It cannot be grasped merely by read-
ing and study. Every person must produce it within himself, particularly
22 since no fixed terminology will be introduced. Kant produced so many
tl mere imitators precisely because he did adopt a fiXed terminology. {Un-
like Kant's, this system does not have any special terminology of its own,
l
·i M This system possesses universal vaJidity; it is based upon the nature of all ntionat be-
I; ings, and it is absolute-possessing its foundation within itself-Co~ it is founded upon ou~
~ self-activity (p. ll5).
'
)_>
~;
-t
~~
·~
102 Second Introduction
and thus it does not encourage mere imitation. Instead, one can grasp
the truth of this system only by reproducing these actions for oneself
and producing these self-observations within one's own consciousness.
Consequently, it is a system suited only for independent thinkers-
though it can also serve to promote independent thinking, especially
among young men.}
Not that a person already has to be an independent thinker in order
to gain entrance into this system: all that is required is an admiration for
independent thinking. It is unlikely that young people will already have
fallen into those mental ruts that make one incapable of thinking for
oneself. One can encourage independent thinking in others by provid-
ing them with material for thought. By thinking things throu~h in ad-
vance, one may be able to lead them to reflect for themselves. 5
20
"Man kann zum Selbst[denken] anfiihren; [dadurch] daJl man Stoff giebt woriiber ge-
dacht werden soli, daJl man vordenke, and dadurch zum Nachdenken erwecke." Unfortu-
nately, most of the virtuoso wordplay in this sentence has been lost in translation.
26
"die Handlungen des Vernunftwesens." The term Vernunftwesen refers not to any con-
crete, rational individual, but rather to "rationality as such," that is, to the essence or struc-
ture of rationality, which is shared by all self-conscious subjects.
I
Second Introduction 103
exist without a second one, etc. The actions in question thus do not oc-
cur separately; for the one action is not supposed to exist without the
other. In a single stroke, I exist and the world exists for me. Within the
23 system, however, what is really only one action has to be treated as a se-
ries of actions, for this is the only way in which we are able to think about
it at all; for we are able to grasp only parts, and indeed, only quite spe-
cific parts.N If a rational being experiences things in accordance with
certain laws, and if he must proceed in this fashion, then he must also
proceed in this fashion within the domain of philosophy as well. One
thought must be linked to another. One must therefore request a person
who asks the above question concerning the reality of the actions de-
scribed by idealism to consider what he is really asking thereby. What
does he mean by "actually"? What does "reality" mean to him? Accord-
ing to idealism, these terms designate whatever necessarily occurs within
consciousness. The question then is, Do these actions occur? Where? How?
Not within the realm of experience; for if they did, then they would
themselves be items of experience, and, as such, they would not belong
within philosophy, which is supposed to display the foundation of expe-
rience. Therefore, these actions do not possess the sort of actuality that
experience does; nor can one say that they occur within time, for only
appearances have temporal reality.
{The series of necessary actions of reason disclosed by Critical idealism (2·
possesses no reality except this: if one is to succeed in explaining what
one is trying to explain, then one necessarily has to assume that these
actions do occur. But they require no other sort of reality, for in this sys-
tem there is no other sort of reality at all except for reality of the sort
indicated (i.e., necessity of thinking).}
Professor Beck, 27 who has understood the Critiqlu of Pure &ason, still
does not want to go beyond experience. But in this case, all philoso-
phy-including his own-would be abolished. Kant, however, does not
share Prof. Beck's opinion on this matter; for Kant asks how experience
is possible, and with this question he raises himself above experience.
{The question has been raised whether the system of Critical idealism (21
also possesses actual reality, that is, whether the actions of reason it de-
scribes actually exist.
"' On account of our limiLation, the idealist's cognition is, and can never be anything but,
discursive; that is to say, he develops his concepts little by little and infers one from the
other. Thus he develops his system step by step, even though this constitutes but a singu act
within our consciousness. I pruit myself and a world at the same time-in a single stroke
(Pf· ~6-~7).
'J. S. Beck ( 1761-1841) was professor of philosophy at Halle and author of the cele-
brated, three-volume Erliiut.erndm Awwg.< aw d.m critischm Schriften iks HeTTJJ Prof Kant
( 1793-96). An excerpt from Vol. I I I, Till Standpoint from which tJu CriticDI Philosophy is to B•
Judged, is available in an English translation by di Giovanni, in B•twen Kant and Hegel, pp.
ll:04-49·
104 Second Introduction
28
'"Wer sich zur Philosophie erhebt, fiir den haben diese Handlungen Realitat, nehm-
lich die des nothwendigen Denkens und fiir dieses ist Realitat."
29
What the text of K actually says is that '"the philosopher's consciousness thereby
becomes comprehensive and complete [ein vollstiindiges, vollendetes]." The text of H, how-
ever, makes it clear that by expanding his consciousness to the limits of thinking, the ide-
alist '"finishes and completes" his system and not his own consciousness: '"dadurch sein
Bewu~tseyn erweitern, soweit als das denken nur irgend gehen kann, und damit w. das
system des ld. geschlo~n und vollendet."
Second Introduction 105
(8) Idealism begins with the self-positing of the I, or with finite reason
as such {and proceeds from there to the individual}. But when we talk (27
about anything "as such," we are employing an indeterminate concept.
Thus idealism starts with an indeterminate concept. The idealist then
observes the way in which reason becomes determinate when it is lim-
ited; and, by means of this act of determination, he allows a rational
individual to come into being-an actual rational being, which is some-
thing quite different from the indeterminate concept of the I. This in-
dividual also observes the world and the things in it, and as he does so,
25 his way of viewing the world is itself observed from the viewpoint of ide-
alism. The idealist observes how there must come to be things for the
individuaL Thus the situation is different for the [observed] individual
than it is for the philosopher. The individual is confronted with things,
men, etc., that are independent of him. But the idealist says, "There are
'""was der Grund der Beschranktheit, an sich sei." The reason such a question is "ab-
surd" is because something can-by definition-be "limited" only by something else. And
thus it is an analytic truth that limitation can never possess its foundation "in itself."
0
The reason for the different points of view and for the differing opinions and systems
that thereby ensue is contained in the following gradations in the progress of our reason
and in the development of our consciousness.
FirJJ. U:vel: Mankind acts in conformity with the laws of theoretical reason that govern
thought, but without being conscious of these laws: e.g., the child, the savage-the com-
mon man~
Second U:vel: Men reflect upon themselves and become conscious of themselves in accor·
dance with universal rules. They construct concepts, but they take the results of these con-
cepts to be things in lhmuelllt'J-origin of dogmatism.
Third U:vel of consciousness, at which consciousness represents its own representations
and concepts to itself as an acting of the representing subject, which acts in accordance
with specific rules---<.Ualirm (p. 26).
1 o6 Second Introduction
" "Beym ersten fangt das IcH an u. ist bios das lch der Gegenstand."' literally: "The I
commences with the former, and only the I is the object."
02
Reading, with H, "Fertigkeit" for K's "Festigkeit'" ("stability").
Second Introduction 107
Preliminary Remarks
(1) The attempt to establish a first principle within philosophy has re-
cently encountered strong objection. 1 Some base their objections upon
arguments of their own, while others are simply going along with cur-
rent fashion.
Those who maintain that we should not seek any first principle might
mean by this that one should not attempt to philosophize in a systematic
manner at all, because it is impossible to do so. {[That is, they might (28)
mean that] no systematic connection is possible in philosophy; instead,
one must here and there accept an unproven proposition. Philosophy is
nothing but an aggregate of individual propositions.} The way to remove
this objection is by actually constructing a system.
Or else they might mean something like this: Every proof begins with
something unproven. What does it mean "to prove" something? Anyone
with a clear concept of what is involved in a proof will admit that to
prove something means to connect the truth of one proposition with
that of another, and to do so in such a way that I transfer the truth of
some previously known proposition to another one. But if this is what
"proof' means, then human beings must possess some truth that neither
can nor needs to be proven and from which all other truths can be de-
1 At the time these lectures were first delivered, the attempt to establish a philosophical
first principle had recently been subjected to harsh criticism in two essays that appeared
almost simultaneously in the Philosophisches journal einer Gesellschaft Teutscher Gelehrten (to
which Fichte himself was a regular contributor and of which he was soon to become co-
editor). Presumably, these are the two "recent objections" that Fichte has in mind, though
neither is mentioned by name anywhere in these lectures: (1) Paul johann Anselm Feuer-
bach, "Ueber die Unmaglichkeit eines ersten absoluten Grundsatzes der Philosophie" Phil-
osophisches Journal 2, 4 ( 1795), and (2) Karl Christian Erhard Schmid, "Bruchstiicke aus
einer Schrift tiber die Philosophie und ihre Principien," Philosophisches journal 3, 2 ( 1795).
[ 108]
§I 109
rived. If not, then there is no truth at all, and we are driven into an in-
finite regress. 2
(2) Neither of these opinions seems to have been shared by the better
thinkers who reject [this attempt to discover a first principle].~ Prof.
Beck also lashes out against the attempt to discover a first principle and
contends instead that philosophy must begin with a postulate. 4 But a pos-
tulate is also a starting point, which is not further proven, and thus it is
a first principle. A first principle is any cognition that cannot be further
proven. Thus anyone who states a postulate also states a first principle.
Within the expression "first principle;" Prof. Beck places the emphasis
upon the word "principle"; accordingly, he declares that a first principle
28 has to be something objective, something that simply has to be "discov-
ered" and then can subsequently be analyzed. But who called upon him
to explain the meaning of a "first principle" in this manner? Philosophy
cannot be established by attending to what is simply "given"; instead, it
can be established only by proceeding synthetically. According to Rein-
hold, the "principle of consciousness" states a fact, and he claims that
philosophy in its entirety should be generated merely by analyzing what
is contained within this principle. 5 It is appropriate to find fault with
such a procedure.
The Wissenschaftslehre begins with an I. But the point is not to analyze
this I, for this would produce a purely empty philosophy. Instead,
the Wissenschaftslehre allows this I to act in accordance with its own laws
and thereby to construct a world. This is no analysis, but instead a
2
"wir werden ins Unendliche getrieben."
'"Keine von beiden Meinungen scheinen die belleren die sich dagegen auflehnen zu
haben."
4
An insistence that every systematic philosophy must begin by "postulating" something
is a central feature of J. S. Beck's "Theory of the Standpoint," as developed most fully in
the third volume of his Er{jjutermden Awzugs, entitled Ein:Ug-mOglicher Standpunct, aw
welchem die critische Philosophie beurtheilt werden mull ( 1796). In English, see the excerpt
translated in Giovanni and Harris's Between Knnl and Hegel, pp. 2o6-4g.
'Karl 'Leonhard Reinhold (1758-t823), Fichte's immediate predecessor atjena, was an
influential early popularizer of Kant's philosophy who also developed his own, highly orig-
inal systematic reformulation of transcendental idealism. Reinhold called his system "El-
ementary Philosophy" or "Philosophy of the Elements." He first expounded it in 1789 in
his Versuch einer neuen Theorie tks menschlichen VorstellungsvermOgens and subsequently elab-
orated it in Vol. I of his Beitriige zur Berichligung bisheriger Mi{Jverstiindnisse tier Philosophen
( 1790) and Ueber das Fundnmenl des philosophischen Wissens ( 1794). (In English, see the ex-
cerpt from the latter, The Foundations of Philosophical Knowudge, translated by di Giovanni in
Between Knnl and Hegel, pp. 52-103.) The "principle of consciousness," the "first principle"
of Reinhold's system (i.e., the principle from which all the other propositions of his system
are to be derived), states that "in consciousness, the subject distinguishes the representa-
tion from the subject and the object and relates it to them both." For further information
about Reinhold's "Elementary Philosophy" and Fichte's criticism of it, see chap. 8 of Beiser,
The Fate of Reason, as well as Breazeale, "Between Kant and Fichte."
110 §I
Postulate:
Think the concept "I" and think of yourself as you do this. Everyone
understands what this means. Everyone thinks of something thereby;
one feels one's consciousness to be determined in a particular manner,
29 and it is by virtue of this that one is conscious of something specific. Now
one must observe what one does when one thinks of this concept.
Think of any object at all-the wall, for example, or the stove. The
thinking subject is a rational being; 10 but, in thinking of this object, this
freely thinking subject forgets about itself and pays no attention to its
own free activity. But this is just what one has to do if one wishes to lift
oneself to the viewpoint of philosophy. In thinking about an object, one
6
"Thathandlung." This is a word of Fichte's own coinage and is a key term for under·
standing the 1 794'95 version of the Wissenschaftslehre. It is, however, virtually absent from
the Wissenschaftslehre nooo methodo (it appears only once in K and three times in H).
7 "man soli innerlich handeln."
8 "Eine Ursache ist etwas nur so gefundenes in der Erfahrung mit Nothwendigkeit
argument) that every representation must consist of two elements: form and matter (or
content) (SW, 1: 17-18 = AA I, 2: 58-59; English translation in EPW, pp. 59-'77· See Brea-
zeale, "Fichte's Aenesidnnus Review."
10 "Das denkende ist das Vernunftwesen."
§ l 111
disappears into the object; one thinks about the object, but one does not
think about oneself as the subject who is doing this thinking. For exam-
ple, when I am thinking about the wall I am the thinking subject and the
wall is the object of thought. I am not the wall, nor is the wall I. The
thinking subject and the object of thought are thus distinguished from
one another. But now I am supposed to think about the I. When I do
this, as when I think of anything at all, I am an active subject. {From this
we can see that, whether we are concerned with a representation of an
object or with a representation of the I, we are active in both cases. With-
out engaging in the activity of thinking we cannot entertain any thought
at all. This is what these representations have in common.} With the same
freedom with which I think about the wall, I now think about the I.ll I
am also thinking about something when I think about the I; but in this
case the thinking subject and the object of thought cannot be distin-
guished from each other in the way they could be while I was still think-
ing about the wall. The thinking subject and the object one is thinking
of, the thinker and the thought, are here one and the same. When I think
about the wall my activity is directed at something outside of myself, but
when I think about the I my activity is self-reverting; i.e., it is directed
back upon the I. (The concept of activity requires no explanation. We
are immediately conscious of it; it consists in an act of intuiting.)A
11
Henrick Steffens, who was present as a student for some of Fichte's lectures during
the winter semester of 1798/gg, included in his memoin the following amusing account of
the listenen' reaction to these instructions:
"I cannot deny that I was awed by my fint glimpse of this short, stocky man with a sharp,
commanding tongue. Even his manner of speaking was sharp and cutting. Well aware of
his listenen' weaknesses, he tried in every way to make himself understood by them. He
made every effort to provide proofs for everything he said; but his speech still seemed
commanding, a.s if he wanted to dispel any possible doubts by means of an unconditional
order. 'Gentlemen,' he would say, 'collect your thoughts and enter into younelves. We are
not at all concerned now with anything external, but only with ounelves.' And, just as he
requested, his listenen really seemed to be concentrating upon themselves. Some of them
shifted their position and sat up straight, while othen slumped with downcast eyes. But it
was obvious that they were all waiting with great suspense for what was supposed to come
next. Then Fichte would continue: 'Gentlemen, think about the wall.' And as I saw, they
really did think about the wall, and everyone seemed able to do so with success. 'Have you
thought about the wall?' Fichte would ask. 'Now, gentlemen, think about whoever it was
that thought about the wall.' The obvious confusion and embarrassment provoked by this
request was extraordinary. In fact, many of the listenen seemed quite unable to discover
anywhere whoever it was that had thought about the wall. I now undentood how young
men who had stumbled in such a memorable manner over their fint attempt at specula-
tion might have fallen into a very dangerous frame of mind as a result of their further
efforts in this direction. Fichte's delivery was excellent: precise and clear. I was completely
swept away by the topic, and I had to admit that I had never before heard a lecture like that
oneH (Fuchs, ed., Fichu im Gcpriich, 11: 8).
" What distinguishes them [the representation of the I and that of an object} is that, in
the case of the representation of my I, the thinker and the thought are one and the same-
in the concept of the I. I am the object of thought as well as the thinking subject. In the
case of other representations, the activity is directed outside of me, but in this case it is
directed back upon myself.
112 § I
The concept or thought of the I arises when the I acts upon itself, and
the act of acting upon oneself 12 produces the thought of the I an'"d no
other thought. The two expressions mean exactly the same: The I is
what it itself posits, and it is nothing but this; and what posits itself and
reverts into itself becomes an I and nothing else. {Thus it is [only] insofar
as I act upon myself and posit myself, [only] insofar as my activity reverts
back upon me, that the I arises and that I think about my I. "I am 1," and
"I posit myself as 1": these two propositions mean exactly the same
thing.}
Self-reverting activity and the I are one and the same. These two ex-
pressions have precisely the same meaning. This assertion could present
difficulties only if one were to understand more by the term "I" than it
is supposed to mean in the present context.
{Here it is to be noted that we are concerned only with the I for. me, or
with the concept of the I for me, insofar as I form it through immediate
consciousness. We are not at all concerned here with any other sort of
being the I might have-as a substance, a soul, etc. Here we must ab-
stract from all other sorts of being, without presupposing any of them.
We are here concerned solely with the concept of the I.}
The I is not the soul, which is a type of substance. In conjunction with
the thought of the I, everyone surreptitiously thinks of something else
as well. One may think, "Before I can do anything at aU [for example,
before I can think of the I], I first have to exist." But this notion must be
discarded. Anyone who makes such a claim is maintaining that the I ex-
ists independently of its actions. Or one may also say, "Before I could act,
30 there had to be some object upon which I could act." But what could
such an objection really mean? Who makes this objection? It is I myself.
I thereby posit myself as preceding myself. Thus this entire objection
could be rephrased as follows: "I cannot proceed to posit the I without
assuming that the I has already posited its own being." 13
The concept of the I arises through my own act of positing myself, by
virtue of the fact that I act in a way that reverts back upon myself. What
has one done when one has acted in this manner, and how did one man-
age to do this?
{Hitherto, people reasoned as follows:} I am conscious of some object, (3o)
B. But I cannot be conscious of this object without also being conscious
of myself, forB is not I and I am not B. But I can be conscious of myself
This activity cannot be defined; it rests upon immediate intuition and consists in my be-
in~ immediately conscious of myself (p. 29).
2 "ein Handeln im Handeln auf sich selbst."
IS "Ich sezte mich also vorher selbst, und der ganze Einwurf lie!k sich so ausdriicken:
ich kann das Setzen des Ich nicht vornehmen, ohne ein Gesetztsein des Ich durch sich
selbst anzunehmen." Unfortunately, Fichte's play on vornehmen and annehemen is lost in
translation.
§ I 113
"absolute" manner. Instead, the force of the adverb schlechthin is to emphasize ( 1) that the
sole, or distinctive, activity of the I qua I is to posit or be aware of itself ("the I is Mthing but
this act of self-positing"), and (2) that this activity is immediate or unconditioned, in the
sense that it occurs spontaneously and cannot be inferred from anything else ("the I simply
posits itself').
17 "Anschauung." This is one of the most common terms in Fichte's technical vocabulary,
and, like his use of "representation," it is directly derived from Kant. In the first Critique,
Kant defines "intuition" as the means by which objects are "given" to us and thus the
means by which a cognition is "immediately related to objects" (see KRV, A1g/B33). Like
Kant, Fichte employs the term Anschauung to designate both the mental activity (or power)
by virtue of which such "immediate" representations are possible and the "content" of such
acts: "intuitions."
18 "ein sich selbst setzen als solches, kein blofks Setzen."
19 "daj3 es sich im unmittelbaren Bewustsein als Subjectobject setze, ist unmittelbar."
§ I 115
alectical tradition, Fichte acquired his understanding of it through his careful study of the
writings of Salomon Maimon. Elsewhere Fichte refers to it as "the law of reflective oppo-
sition" (§ 2) or "the principle of determinability" (dictat to§ 3). Maimon (1752-1800) was
one of the most acute critics of Kant's Critical undertaking-as well as one of its most orig-
inal interpreters. For more information concerning Maimon's skeptical Kantianism, see
cha,p. 10 of Beiser's The Fale of Reason.
2 "in dieser Ruhe wird das was eigendich ein Thatiges ist, ein Geseutes." The ordinary
meaning of the adjective gesetzJe is "calm," "composed," or "steady," and this is certainly
part of the meaning of the term in this sentence. But gesetzJe is also derived from the past
§ 1 117
separate from the activity itself. It does not become any son of matter29
or thing that could precede the l's representation [of it]. What happens
is simply that acting, by being intuited, becomes fixed. Such [an instance
of stabilized acting] is called a "concept," in opposition to an intuition,
which is directed at the activity as such.
The subject and the object collapse into each other within this self-
reverting activity when it is intuited as a state of repose, and this pro-
duces something positive and stable. Neither this coincidence of subject
and object, nor the manner in which an intuition is thereby transformed
into a concept can be intuited; this is sumething that can be grasped only by
71Uiaru of thinking. Only intuition can be intuited rather than thought.
Thinking can only be thought; it cannot be intuited. Indeed, every ex-
pression of the mind can be grasped only through itself. This confirms
the theory of consciousness we have just been discussing.
Being conscious of intuition is what is meant by "philosophical ge-
nius." All thinking begins with intuition; accordingly, all philosophizing
must also begin with intuition.
Kant calls philosophy "rational cognition by means of concepts.''w But
this cannot be right, even according to Kant himself; for he says that ev-
ery concept without intuition is empty.s 1 In addition, Kant also talks
about transcendental imagination, and this is something that can only be
intuited.
The concept arises in one and the same moment with the intuition
and cannot be separated from it. It seems to us as if the latter would
have to precede the former,s 2 but it seems this way to us only because we
refer the concept back to an intuition. n
participle of setun, "to posit," and as such it means "that which is posited." Both senses are
combined in Fichte's use of das GesetzJes: in contrast to the activity of positing, what is pos-
ited within this activity becomes fixed and passive. Note too the relationship between these
terms and the usual German word for "law," das Gaelz-again, "that which is posited."
"""Stoff."
30
KRV. A7 t3fB7ofL
31
KRV. A51iB75· What Kant actually says in this celebrated (and frequently misquoted)
passage is that "thoughts without content are empty, and intuitions without concepts are
blind."
32 The text of K reads: ~Der Begriff entsteht mit der Anschauung zugleich in demselben
Moment, und ist von ihm unzertrennlich. Es scheint uns als ob der erste eher hatte sein
miifkn." This passage appears to be corrupt, and thus two corrections have been intro-
duced in the translated text: (1) ~on ihr" ("from the intuition") is substituted for "von
ihm" ("from the moment" or, even less plausibly, .. from the concept"); and (2) "der letzte"
("the latter") is substituted for "der erste" ("the former").
D Applying this [general principle of determination via opposition] to the self-positing
or internal ac1ing of the I, we oblain an innn intuition of the stability or slaU of repose of the
same and, at the same time, an inner intuition of its activity-an intuition of it as both ac~d
upon and acting. These coincide. Within this state of repose, however, the positing of the
activity is transformed for us into somelhing pruiled, into a product, into a concept. That is
to say, when one considers this very same activity, first of all, not as an instance of acting,
118 § 1
§ 1. The absolute first principle can only be sought out; it can be nei-
ther pr()Uen nor determined.
Within the context of the Wissenschaftslehre, to "determine" something
means the same as to limit it, and indeed, to restrict it to a' certain region
or sphere of our knowledge. But the absolute first principle embraces (33)
the entire sphere of our knowledge. This principle is always valid in re-
lation to any consciousness whatsoever.
"I posit myself as positing myself." This presupposes that something
has already been posited, which can only be inferred and grasped by
means of thinking. But this is immediate consciousness, and the I itself
consists in just this harmony.
"I simply posit myself." This means: "I am conscious of myself, first as
the object of consciousness, and then again as the subject, i.e., the sub-
ject who is conscious." The discovered and the discoverer are here one
and the same. The I is identical with immediate consciousness.
"I am." In this context, "to be" means "to be the object of a concept."
In contrast to this, "becoming" signifies an acting. When considered as
a state of repose, this acting, this activity, is a concept, a being, indeed, a
specific being, which the I portrays as a fact-a concept, something sim-
ply found.
Here we began with the Act and arrived at the fact; but the method of
the book is just the reverse.
By the expression "in a state of repose" I mean that I find the I to be
something posited, a product, something discovered.
but as something stable and fixed, and glimpses and intuits it accordingly as a state of re-
pose (since otherwise we would be unable to intuit it as engaged in acting, as active), this-
produces a product, namely, the cuncept of the I. The concept of the I can only be thought
of and cannot be intuited, since only activity that is engaged in acting is intuition. Such an
intuition, however, is impossible without simultaneously thinking of its opposite-that is,
without thinking of the same activity as previously in a state of repose, i.e., without a con-
cept. Consequently, both are always connected with each other; concept and intuition co-
incide (pp. 31-32).
33 GWL See SW, I: 91-101.
§ I 119
One has to begin with being and infer self-positing therefrom, and
vice versa. Similarly, one must infer the intuition from the concept, and
vice versa. Both must be present together. A state of repose must be con-
nected with the intuition of activity. I obtain the concept only by means
of intuition and I obtain intuition only by means of the concept, for both
occur simultaneously in the free act of the self-reverting activity. Noth-
ing precedes this act; no "something in itself' is presupposed as the
foundation of this act.}
34 § 1
Postulate
Construct the concept of the I and observe how you accomplish this.
It was claimed that if one does what one is asked to do one will dis-
cover that one is active and will discover in addition that one's activity is
directed upon one's own active self. Accordingly, the concept of the I
comes into being only by means of a self-reverting activity; and con-
versely, the only concept that comes into being by means of such an ac-
tivity is the concept of the I. By observing oneself while engaged in this
activity, one becomes immediately conscious of it; i.e., one posits oneself
as self-positing. As the sole immediate form of consciousness, this im-
mediate consciousness of oneself must be presupposed in the explana-
tion of all other possible varieties of consciousness. It is called the
original intuition of the I. (The word "intuition" is here employed in
both the subjective and the objective sense. For intuition can mean two
different things: (a) it can refer to the intuition that the I has, in which
case the I is the subject, the intuiting subject; or (~) it can refer to the
intuition that is directed at the I, in which case the intuition is objective,
and the I is.the intuited object. Here the word is employed in both senses
at once.) One will further observe that one is unable to posit oneself as
acting without positing a state of repose in opposition thereto. When-
ever a state of repose is posited, a concept is produced-in this case, the
concept of the I.
34
§ 1 (dictated 1798)
or dictata were apparently, as the name indicates, carefully "dictated" to the class by Fichte
himself, so that the students could transcribe them as accurately as possible. Consequently,
though the text of H differs in many respects from that of K, the summary paragraphs are
virtually identical in the two versions (though H customarily places the dictata at the be-
ginning rather than at the end of each §). § 1 and § 2 of K each include, in addition, a
second summarizing paragraph, with the heading "dictated 1798." Presumably, Krause
obtained these alternate dictations from someone who had attended one of Fichte's two
earlier courses of lectures on the WLnm, most probably that of the winter semester 1797/
g8. These additional, earlier summaries do not appear in H, nor do they continue in K
after § 2 (though § 3 repeats the same summary-it appears once at the beginning and
once at the end of the §).
35 § 2
condition. 1'A {Nothing determinate is possible apart from what is deter- (34)
minable, i.e., without intuiting the one along with the other.} Much de-
pends upon this point.
Limiting ourselves to the thinking of the I, what is determinate is pos-
ited as an activity and is present to consciousness as such, and thus it is
only by means of activity that we become conscious of what is indeter-
minate as well. Since what is indeterminate is posited in relation to and
36 along with what is determinate, let us call it "what is determinable." 2 As
noted above, activity cannot be intuited apart from stability or a state of
repose. Nor can activity be intuited except as a determinate activity; but
the concept of a determinate activity is impossible without intuiting a
determinable one.
• The following objection might occur to someone: Granted that it has
been shown that the I can be posited only by means of a self-reverting
activity, and granted too that an activity can be posited only in opposi-
tion to a state of repose and that a determinate activity can be posited
only by positing something determinable: it is still fallacious to infer
from this the general principle that there can be nothing determinate
apart from something determinable, for one cannot derive a universal
from a particular. [Reply:] All consciousness is mediated by the self-
positing of the I, and everything that occurs [therein] is a product of the
I's activity. Therefore, whenever a determinate product is encountered,
it must be the product of a determinate activity of the I. And thus, since
no determinate activity of the I can be posited without positing a de-
terminable activity, the above principle does indeed possess universal
validity.
(2) {Here too one must avoid that rashness which is such a temptation
within a transcendental philosophy, and must not become transcendent.
1
"Alles Bewustsein der Selbsuhatigkeit ist ein Bewustsein unseres Einschriinkens unserer
Thiitigkeit, nun kann ich mich nicht anschauen als beschriinkend, ohne ein Uibergehen von der
Unbestimmtheit zur Bestimmtheit zu setzen, also ohne die Unbestimmtheit mit zu setzen, und dem
Bestimmten engegenzusetzen."
A We abstracted from all [other] possible ways of operating and focused our reflection
upon a single point: namely, upon ourselves. We restricted our activity to our own I. Thus
it was by means of this passage from what is undetermined-in other words, from what is
determinable to what is determinate, from what is unlimited to what is limited-that we
became conscious of our own activity and obtained an intuition of it.
Just as we found above that no intuition of the activity of our I was possible without also
intuiting the I in a state of passive repose, so here as well: the movement of transition from
what is determinable to what is determinate is not possible unless one also and at the same
time intuits or posits something determinable. No intuition or concept of our own activity
is possible unless these two spheres are posited in opposition to each other: the sphere of
what is limited and the sphere of what is unlimited. The two must be connected with each
other (p. 34).
2 "welches wir, weil es in Beziehung auf das Bestimmtsein und mit ihm zugleich gesezt
More specifically, one must not presuppose the existence of any "activity
in itself," and then imagine that one is able to think of this "activity in
itself' only in the modified form produced by the colored glass of rep-
resentation. Instead, the activity that concerns us here is nothing but the
transition from determinability to determinacy. The "activity in itself' is
simply the concept, which, however, is not presupposed; instead, this
concept arises merely by means of and along with the intuition of the
activity. This activity itself is both concept and intuition.}
Moreover, this determinate activity is not a determinate activity as
such or in general (which would be self-contradictory); instead, it is a
particular determinate activity. (Nothing can be anything at all without
being determined in a certain way. In an abstract context one may well
talk as if this were not so, but here we are dealing with intuition, not with
abstraction.) This act of limiting oneself, positing oneself, immediately
intuiting oneself, and becoming conscious of oneself is one single act:
the act of intuiting oneself.
But the determinate activity ·may not be posited unless the opposed
activity, from which the determinate activity is extracted, is also posited
along with it. An act of self-positing can [not] be understood unless an
act of non-self-positing is posited along with it. This follows from what
was said above; but it is also a consequence of the nature of intuition
itself. One does not and cannot think clearly of anything at all without
also thinking at the same time of its opposite, {i.e., without negating its
opposite by thinking "it cannot and should not be this." (To be sure,
within everyday life this usually occurs only tacitly. But when we are
dealing with difficult objects and are engaged in sublime and abstract
meditations, this [explicit] way of proceeding promotes uncommon
clarity.)} This will not be proven here, but anyone who thinks clearly of
anything will discover this truth within himself. Therefore, in connec-
tion with the act of positing the I, one necessarily has to think about the
act of not positing the I as well.
37 In accordance with our postulate, the activity that previously had to be
posited as determinable activity in general has now been posited as Not-
1, i.e., as an activity directed at what is opposed to the I. {An act of non- (35)
self-positing is therefore posited in opposition to the act of positing the I;
a Not-I is opposed to the I -A minus A. In the case of the act of self-
positing, the activity is directed back upon itself. This act of positing the
Not-/ is determined by opposition. In the former case, the activity is di-
rected at the subject that actively posits itself as positing, i.e., at what is
active (subjectively and objectively). In the latter case, the activity is di-
rected not at a self-positing subject, but rather at something posited-
something stable, in a state of passive repose-which is present without any
assistance.} Thus, as surely as the I is posited at all, a Not-I must be pos-
ited along with it. The character of the Not-I emerges directly from this
124 § 2
opposition, for the activity by means of which I arrive at the Not-1 is the
sole means I possess for characterizing it.
Let us note, first of all, that the activity that posits the I and that which
posits the Not-1 are similar, inasmuch as activity of the I is present from
start to finish [in both cases]. 3 I am the thinking subject in each case. But
they are different in that, in the first case, the I's activity is directed
within itself and has as its object that self whose act is this very activity;
whereas, in the second case, the activity of the thinking subject must
have as its object something in a state of repose, something that does not
posit itself (at least not in the same sense in which the I posits itself).
(Whether self-positing might still pertain to it in some other sense is not
a question that needs to be addressed at this point.) 4 This object is some-
thing that is present for the self-positing I we are currently considering.
The self-positing I simply encounters it. It does not find it to be a prod-
uct of its own activity. Instead, the I finds this object to be a product of
necessity, though the necessity in question is itself conditional, since it
arises only because the I has first posited itself.B (In order to think
clearly about the I, I require something to be the Not-1.)
{This necessary opposition of spheres, without which no clear intu-
ition-[and hence no clear] thought-is possible, is what Kant calls "syn-
thesis." This is the process of going beyond intuition and connecting
concepts thereto. Accordingly, we here proceeded beyond the !-consid-
ered as self-positing-and beyond the intuition of its spontaneous self-
activity. By means of this act of opposing, we obtained the concept of the
I--considered in a state of repose, as something posited.}
The concept of the Not-1 is not a concept derived from experience. It
can be derived only from the very action through which it is con-
structed. The Not-1 is something merely posited, and "being" is its sole
determination. (The concept of being will later5 be derived from the
concept of activity, which itself admits of no further explanation.)
(3) Let us now reflect a bit upon what we have just discovered and con-
sider how we were able to do this. Every act of connecting something
with the I, i.e., all synthesis, depends upon something posited in oppo-
sition thereto (as we saw in this and the previous §). Before I can intuit
3
"ZufOrderst, da~ die Thatigkeit des lch durch gehe, darin sind beide gleich." Krause
later emended this passage by replacing durch gehe ("permeates" or "is present from start
to finish") with d.araufgehe ("is directed at").
4 See below, § g, where a variety of (unfree) "self-positing" is attributed to nature itself.
8
To be sure, activity is present in the Iauer case [that is, when the Not-I is posited] as
well, since the activity of the I relates itself to it; and, in this respect, they are similar. The
I is [in this latter case]the representing subject, but it is not at the same time what is rep-
resented (the object). Accordingly, this second, opposed activity is a product not of free-
dom, but rather of necessity-albeit a condit.itmal necessity, since it is conditioned by the
fact that the I is posited. It has the character of a being and not of a becoming (p. 35).
5 In sect. 4 of the present §.
§ 2 125
(4) We must now compare the new synthesis with the previous one and
attach this new link to our chain of inferences.
In the previous § we remarked that one is unable to posit an activity
without opposing thereto a state of passivity. In the present § we have
observed that one cannot posit a determinate activity without opposing
thereto a determinable one. Thus the procedure by means of which we
accomplished the transition from one term to the other was the same in
both inquiries. The action we have now deduced is the same as the pre-
39 vious one; we have simply become better acquainted with it. {By com-
paring this synthesis with the previous one, we can see that the same
thing happens over and over again. The action that occurs is always
the first action; indeed, at bottom there is only one action. Only within
the system of a Wissenschaftslehre is this single action presented as a series
of actions.} And if the action is the same, then that to which the transi-
tion is made must also be the same; i.e., the state of repose must be the
same thing as determinability, and the latter must be included in the
former; for it is precisely when an activity is still determinable as such
that it can be characterized as a state of repose and not as an activity.
One could call this state of repose or this determinability an "ability" or
"power." 13 A power is not the same as that which possesses it; i.e., it is not
a substance. We say that a substance possesses a certain power, which is
11
Reading "daraus folgi ein nothwendiges'" for K's "daraus folgi kein nothwendiges.'"
What the text actually states is that no necessary acting is implied by the occurrence of the
first, free act of self-reflection, but this contradicts the entire argument of this section. But
perhaps the text is not corrupt and should be interpreted to mean merely that we have not
yet demonstrated that some other act must necessarily occur in order for the I to posit itself-
specifically, that it must become conscious of itself.
12 Fichte frequently employs metaphors of ascent and descent to describe the overall
structure of the WLnm. §§ 1-12 constitute the "ascent'" to the axial point of the entire pre-
sentation, from which all the subsequent §§ "descend.'"
""Man konnte diese Ruhe oder diese Bestimmbarkeit Vermogen nennen.'" Verm0gen
(rendered here as '"power'") is an important term in Kant's philosophical vocabulary, often
(albeit misleadingly) translated into English as "faculty" (e.g., by Norman Kemp Smith in
his influential translation of the Critique of Pure Reason).
§ 2 127
blofks Vermogens."
E This determinable activity is therefore something passive, something that can be
grasped only conceptually; and thus, insofar as it is opposed to intuition, it is an act of
comprehending or a concept. In relation to the Not-I, on the other hand, it is an intuition
(p . .p6).
1
"die eine ist die des Beabsichtigten, die andere die des nothwendig gefunden, welches
wir nennen wollen das Gegebne." The clause inserted from the parallel passage in H
128 § 2
("EINE SPHARE DES NOTHWENDJG DAMIT VERBUNDENEN oder des GEFUNDENEN oder GEGEBE-
NEN") helps to clarify the meaning of "necessarily" in this sentence.
F To the sphere of whnl is intended To the sphere of whnl is given
(subjective) pertain: (objective) pertain:
Activity Repose
Determinate activity What is determinable
The concept of the I The concept of the Not-1
Let us call the real, determinate Let us call the determinable activity in
activity that lies within this sphere, i.e., a state of repose that lies within this
the activity in agility, "A." And let us sphere "C." And let us call the Not-1
call what comes into being thereby, i.e., that is produced thereby "D."
the concept of the I, "B."
(p.36)
18
"REPRESENTATIO."
§ 2 129
jective factor, the Idea, something posited in accordance with the laws of
reflection.} What the eye sees in this case is the seeing of the eye. {The
eye looks at seeing: the eye is immediate consciousness, and seeing is all
other consciousness. Consciousness is no more the same as immediate
consciousness than is the eye the same as seeing.}) We freely chose to
gef)erate this representation, and, if we had wished, we could have con-
cerned ourselves with something else; thus we have left to one side the
question of whether there might be some other respect in which such a
representation might be necessary.
• This A, this observing of the act of self-positing, is an intuition; more ~
precisely, it is an inner, intellectual intuition {or intuition of the I acting
within itself-of the A-[an intuition] of the intuited act of self-positing
or of self-reverting activity-A}. We have already discovered (in the first
§) that no intuition-including intuition A-is possible apart from a
concept. What concept must be connected with intuition A? Could it be
[the concept of] what is intended ( = B)? Obviously not, {for this in-
tended I is supposed to present itself within consciousness as active, as
engaged in intuiting, and thus as self-positing and produced by A,}
[and,] since the concept we are seeking must lie within the sphere of
what is given, {which is not produced before my very eyes, it must lie in
C}. Accordingly, the concept we are seeking must be the one that con-
ditions intuition A; i.e., it must be C = what is determinable, or the ac-
tivity in a state of passive repose. {The determinable activity, or activity
in a state of repose, is thus the concept that lies at the basis of all intu-
ition, for repose can be grasped-can be thought or posited-only in
relation to activity. Thus what is given to me by means of Cis the concept
of the I, for in order for me to be able to posit myself, a movement of
transition from repose to activity must occur.} Thus, in relationship to
intuition A, C is the concept that determines A. But in the context of a
different relationship, this same concept C can also be called an intu-
ition. {But where does this concept C come from?} It is immediate con- (;
sciousness itself, which is not intuited but is comprehended or grasped
through concepts-and comprehended not as an activity, but as a state
of repose. {For activity in a state of repose is a mere concept, which can
never appear in intuition and can never be an object of intuition; in-
stead, as a concept or a power, i.e., as something posited, C is based upon
immediate consciousness, or rather, C is itself immediate consciousness
and therefore is an immediate concept. In this concept the I discovers itself
as substance, as something posited, as the determinable, active C, which
lies at the foundation of every determinate activity and of every conscious-
ness.} This concept is what is copied in intuition A. (Every act of intuition
is an act of copying.) This concept is the most immediate and highest
concept, and it is grounded upon intellectual intuition, which, as such,
never becomes an object of consciousness, though it does become an
130 § 2
Even .as an intuition, Cis already in a state of repose, for it has been posited in oppo-
sition to A; and D is also in a State of repose, because it is something given. Therefore, to
the extent that Dis the product of C. it is a state of repose in a state of repose."" (p. 38).
20 ~Ruhe der Rube." ·
21
"NEGATIVE GrotJe."
22 ~Sein NEGIRT in
Beziehung auf ein a user dem Sein geseztes Thatiges; durch Sein wird
Machen aufgehoben. Was ist kann nicht gemacht werden."
2
~ "Das SEYN negirt also auch das SEYENDE.M
what is opposed to C [ = D] could not be an intuition, but would have to
be the real negation of intuiting; i.e., it would have to be something in-
tuited-and this would have to be true of the Not-I as well. {This is the
true character of the Not-I: as what is intuited it must always be related
to an intuiting subject (namely, to C).} This is why it is absurd to treat the
Not-I as a thing in itself. It must always be related to an intuiting subject.
(5) We saw above how the entire mechanism of the human mind is based
upon the necessity of positing one thing in opposition to another. But
these opposing terms are one and same, merely viewed from different
sides. The I, which lies within the sphere of what is intended, and the
Not-I, which lies within the sphere of what is discovered, are one and the
same. These simply represent two, inseparably linked, aspects or ways of
looking at the same thing, for the I must be a subject-object. Everything
follows from this last claim. Two series arise from the original intuition:
the subjective series, or the series of what is intended, and the objective
series, or the series of what is found. These two series cannot be sepa-
rated, for neither can exist without the other. To say that these are both
aspects of the same thing, i.e., to say that the subjective and the objective
[series] "coexist," is to say that they are not merely inseparably linked
within reflection, but that they are also one and the same object of re-
flection. The activity that reverts into itself and determines itself is none
other than the determinable activity. These are one and the same and
are inseparable. 1
{Thus, for example, B and Care one and the same. B is the concept of
the I produced by A. C is the concept of the I, considered as something
given; for in order to be able to posit myself as active ( = B), I have to
presuppose a transition from a state of repose to one of activity, and this
presupposes an activity in a state of repose as such, i.e., a power to be-
come active in one way or another, and this passive, determinable activ-
ity is the concept of the I in C. The difference between B and C is simply
this: B is the concept of the I which A produces in consciousness before
our very eyes; in contrast, C is the concept of the I which is discovered by
intuition to be present within consciousness, and hence C belongs to the
sphere of what is "given" or "objective."
Accordingly, B is produced through freedom, whereas C is produced
through original intuition. 24}
1 One can call what is intended "subjective" and what is given "objective," since both are
originally present within consciousness. Not only are they always together within reflec-
tion, but they are also inseparable as an object of reflection, or as what is reflected upon.
There can be no determinate activity without a determinable one, no activity of the I as
I without the same as a state of repose, as Not- I. This is always one and the same activity
(p. pg).
2 The translation of this sentence corrects what appears to be an error in the transcrip-
tion of H, which reads: "Eben so ist A durch Freiheil hervorgebracht, B hingegen durch die
urspriingliche Anschauung." In the translation, B is substituted for A, and C for B.
§ 2 133
The Not-1 is thus nothing other than another way of looking at the I.
When we consider the I as an activity, we obtain the I; when we consider
it in a state of repose, we obtain the Not-1. One cannot view the I as ac-
43 tive without also viewing it in a state of repose, i.e., as Not-1. This is the
reason why the dogmatist, who does not think of the I as engaged in
activity, has no I at all. His I is an accident of the Not-1. Idealism has no
Not-1; for the idealist, the Not-1 is always simply another way of looking
at the I. Within dogmatism, the I is a particular type of thing; within
idealism, the Not-I is a particular way of looking at the I.
{In idealism, therefore, the Not-1 is nothing but an accident. Actually, -(,
idealism recognizes no Not-I; its Not-1 is only a particular way of looking
at its I. That is to say, it first views its I in intellectual intuition as active,
and this furnishes idealism with its I. However, it also views the I in in-
tellectual intuition as passive, and this furnishes idealism with its Not-1.
Remark: This is only one way of looking at the Not-1. There is, how-
ever, also another way of looking at it, which we will examine later.}
§ 2 (Dictated 1 798)
When this very activity of reflection, through which the intellect pos-
its itself, is intuited, it, is intuited as a self-determining agility; and this
agility is intuited as a movement of transition from a state of passive re-
pose and indeterminacy, which is nevertheless determinable, to one of
determinacy. This determinability here appears as the power to think ei-
ther of the I or of the Not-I, and thus the concept of determinability
necessarily involves the concepts of the I and the Not-1, which are pos-
ited in opposition to each other. Accordingly, whenever one engages in
self-active reflection each of these concepts appears as something inde-
pendent of this act, and the characteristic feature of the Not-I is being,
i.e., a negation.
§ 2
It is claimed that when one constructs the concept of the I one will
also discover that one cannot posit oneself as active without positing this
activity as self-determined, and that one cannot do this without positing
a moVement of transition from a state of indeterminacy or determinabil-
ity-which movement of transition is itself the very activity one is here
observing (see sections 1 and 2 above). Similarly, one cannot grasp the
concept {of the I} which comes into being by means of the determinate
activity without determining this concept by means of an opposed Not-I;
and what is determinable is the same as what was previously called. the
state of repose (§ 1 ), for it is determined precisely by being transformed
134 § 2
2
~
"weil es eben zur Thatigkeit bestimmt wird."
26
l.e., §§~and 3 ofGWL (see SW, 1: 101-~g). As always, K and H cite the first, 1794>'95
edition of GWL, for which this translation substitutes page references to the text in SW, 1.
§ 2 135
nition must be determined objectively is something that is established
within intuition. 27 From this necessary determinacy we deduced deter-
minability, and from determinability we deduced the Not- I. The portion
of the compendium corresponding to this section proceeded in the di-
ametrically opposite direction. It began with the act of opposing 28 the
Not-I [to the I], and this opposition was posited as absolute(§ 2). The act
of determining was then derived from this act of opposing (§ 3). Both
paths are correct, since the necessary determinacy of the I and the nec-
essary being of the Not-I bear a reciprocal relation to each other. One
can proceed from either to the other. Either path is possible. But our
present path has this advantage: that the determinacy of the I is also
what links the I with the Not-IJ What we have here spoken of as the
"relationship between determinacy and determinability" is called "quan-
tity" (or sometimes "quantifiability") in the book. 29 This has given rise to
some misunderstandings, for many have taken this to imply that the I is
something extended. In fact, all that rea11y possesses quantity is the pos-
iting subject itself.K But here we are not yet concerned with this. The
third § of the previous exposition would thus correspond to the second
§ of this one, and vice versa. Another path has a1so been pursued here
with respect to the Not-1, which is no longer postulated immediately, but
is instead postulated indirect1y.
{The Not-1 is also derived in a different manner in § 2 of the book, in (42)
which the absolute opposition is supposed to be established by means of
Note that the pagination of SW, I is also provided in the critical edition of the same text
included in AA l, ~. as well as as in the English translation included in SK.
27
uHauen wir hier etwas postulin, so ware es das [sic] Erkennlnifl ilberhaupl des
Uibergehens vom Ich zum Vorgestelhen[.] Dajl diese Erkennlnif\, di~ objective bestimmt
sein miljk, isl in der Anschauung nachgewiesen." This obscure passage demands some
emendation, which is only marginally facilitated by the parallel passage in H: "Zwar
beruhl das System auf einem PoSTUlATE [ •.• ] nehmlich; unsere[r] Erkenntifluberhaupl,
in sofern sie sich auf dem unmiuelbaren Bewufltseyn als Objekl betrachtet-grilndel-
kurz der Obergang von dem gesezten lcH zum reinen lcH." ("To be sure, this system rests
upon a postulate [ ... ], namely: our knowledge as such, insofar as this is grounded upon
immediate consciousness, considered as an object-in shon, [what we have postulated is]
the transition from the posited I lo the pure 1.")
28
Reading, with Radrizzani, "Entgegensetzen" for K's "Entgegengesezlen" (uwhal was
opposed").
I The path followed in the compendium is the opposite of the one we are presently fol-
lowing. In § ~ of the book we started with the Not- I, and from § 3 on we progressed to
what is determinable, and finally lO what is determinate.
Each of these two methods is correct in itself, since they are reciprocally related lo each
other. Nevertheless, the present method is preferable since it doubles the connection. The
determinacy of the I, with which we begin, is also at the same lime what connects the I and
the Nol-l (p. 41 ).
29
See SW, 1: 108-g.
K What§ 3 calls "quantity" is the relationship between determinacy and determinability,
and refers to the necessary conjunction of two opposites, which must nevertheless be
viewed as opposed to each other. Thus "quantity" designates the entire range of activity-
including both determinable and determinate activity (pp. 41-4~).
the logical principle "-A is not = A." Everyone will concede this princi-
ple itself at once, but how do I know that it is true?
From experience? This is insufficient, for how could this be known
from experience? Instead, this [logical] opposition is absolute--becau.re I
posit something in opposition and must do so. SDJ
p. 1o1, no. 1. This proposition establishes the absolute act of opposing
as such.
p. 103, no. 6. "The act of opposing [etc.]." One cannot posit acting
45 without also positing a state of repose, nor something determinate with-
out something determinable, nor an I without a Not-1. This is the origin
of the unity of acting as well as of the unity of consciousness.
p. 104, no. g. The act of absolute opposing is here demonstrated. If
this act were impossible, then how could anything be opposed to any-
thing? The I is posited absolutely; hence what is absolutely posited in
opposition is the Not-L
{If something is supposed to be absolutely opposed, then the question
arises, opposed to what? To nothing else but the I, for this is what is im-
mediately posited. Thus the only possible immediate act of opposing is
an act of positing something in opposition to the I. This absolute act of
positing in opposition is absqlute; thus it cannot be learned from expe-
rience, but first appears within experience in the form of something
that is opposed [to the l's self-positing], and only then does experience
become possible.}
p. 105, § 3· "with every step, etc." This is meant simply as a clarifica-
tion of what occurs within us. {"To prove" means the same as "to estab-
lish within intuition." We can analyze only what occurs within us, what is
already in us.} The older method continued in this manner and then
merely analyzed what occurs.
p. 106, no. 1. "insofar as [etc.]." This "insofar as" already includes
within itself what is to be derived. To this extent, "insofar as" means
"quantity" or "sphere." One could say that if the Not-1 is posited, then
the l is not posited. Yet both the Not-1 and the I have to be present
within one and the same consciousness, for without an I, the Not-I posits
nothing. One cannot understand an opposite without positing its oppo-
site as well. {Instead of "insofar as, [etc.]" it would have been better to
say: "if the Not-I is posited," etc.
The Not-1 is supposed to appear as a certain quantity or sphere of our
activity. But this is not possible unless its opposite, the I, also appears
within consciousness at the same time; and within this identity, the I
must be simultaneously posited [along with the Not-1], for the Not-1 is
nothing at all. But what is posited and what is posited in opposition
thereto cancel each other out, and this is therefore a contradiction.
"" "dieses entgegensetzen ist absolut---weil ich entgegensetze, und entgegen setzen mufl."
§ 2 137
( 1) No grounds can here be adduced for this action, for we have reached
the limit of all reasons. 2 All one has to do at this point is to observe what
is there to be seen. Everyone will see that nothing mediates [this move-
ment of transition from indeterminacy to determinacy]. The I under-
takes this movement of transition because it undertakes this movement
of transition; it determines itself because it determines itself. It accom-
plishes this transition by means of a self-grounding act of absolute free-
dom, and this is a creation out of nothing, an act of producing
something that did not exist before, an absolute beginning. {The I passes
from what is determiruJJle to whai is determinate in, as it were, a single
bound.} The state of indeterminacy does not contain within itself any
foundation or reason for the ensuing determinacy, for each of these two
states cancels the other. At moment A, I was undetermined, and this in-
determinacy constituted my entire nature. !I At moment B, I am deter-
minate; something new is present, and it has arisen from me. This
passage [from indeterminacy to determinacy] is accomplished by means
of a self-grounding act of freedom.
1 InK,§~ begins with a summary paragraph under the heading"§ 3 (1798)." Since this
paragraph is virtually identical to the summary paragraph that concludes § 3, it has been
omitted from the translation. See below, n. 24.
2 "'Hier giebt es keine Griinde; wirsind an der Grenze allerGriinde."There can, in prin-
(2) The activity that expresses itself in this freely initiated movement of
transition is called "real activity," {for it is an act of generating or creat-
ing something on its own. Unlike its opposite, namely, that act of intuit-
ing, which we will call "ideal activity," this real activity was not produced
from the preceding state of indeterminacy. This act of absolute freedom
is not the content, but rather the form of the act of transition from de-
terminability to determinacy.} The act in which this transition is accom-
plished is called a "practical act"; and the field within which it expresses
itself is called "the field of the practical." We observed this act and are
continuing to do so. The activity in which such observation occurs is
called "ideal activity."
As an idealiter4 active, intuiting subject, I now discover this act of ab-
solute freedom. But I can neither discover nor describe it without pos-
iting something in opposition to it. "I determine myself': this means
that I transform a possibility into a reality, a power 5 into an activity. I
accomplish this absolutely free act of self-determination by means of a
{practical} power to determine myself through absolute freedom. A The
term "power" signifies the possibility of activity. But one cannot under-
stand this unless one sets forth the law of reflection through which the
concept of power originates. Power is nothing but another way of look-
ing at activity. Any particular act can be intuited only when it is ex-
plained with reference to a power, and this also applies to the act of
absolute freedom. There is no power apart from activity and no activity
apart from power. They are one and the same thing, simply construed
from two different sides: construed as an intuition, it is an activity; con-
strued as a concept, it is a power.
{Something can be said to possess a "practical power" if it possesses the
possibility of becoming something else-insofar as this possibility is
thought of as in a state of repose, apart from activity. The power we are
here concerned with would thus be the concept of absolute freedom, or
the very act of intuition. This concept and this act determine each other
reciprocally.}
48 (3) The sharp difference between ideal and real activity can be easily
stated. Ideal activity is an activity in a state of repose, an act of positing
4 '"mEALITER." Fichte employs the Latin terms idealiter ("in an ideal sense") and realiter
("in a real sense") to designate actions, respectively, of the "ideal" and the "real" powers
discussed in the previous section. To act realiter is thus to engage in practical, efficacious
action. To act itkaliter is to become aware of the previous sort of action realiter.
~ "ein VermOgen."
A Since no act can be clearly intuited unless something is posited in opposition to it, we
will posit in opposition to this act of absolute freedom a practical power of absolule freedom
(p. 44>·
in a state of repose, an act that loses itself in the object, an act of intu-
iting, which is fixed in the object. 6
Real activity is true activity, which is an instance of acting. {Real ac-
tivity consists in agility, in the transition to acting, and contains within
itself the reason why it is determined in a particular way. Thus it is not
anythiQg fixed, but is self-determining.} Ideal activity can also be in mo-
tion and can also be a movement of transition; indeed, when engaged in
intuiting freedom, the ideal activity really is such a movement of tran-
sition, but what makes an act of intuiting a movement of transition is not
anything that lies within the act of intuiting itself, but is instead derived
from the object intuited, which, in this case, is freedom. The intuiting
subject obtains only an image or copy [of its object]. Unlike real activity,
ideal activity does not possess within itself the ground of its determinate
being, and this is why it is in a state of passive repose. The ideal activity
has its foundation in the reality 7 that lies before it.
{The real activity produces something rea1 8-it is the condition for the
possibility of all intuiting. The ideal activity is only an act of mirroring or
copying, an act of observing the productive act-an act of representing-
of grasping something through concepts. It is not our real goal.}
These two activities can be comprehended only in opposition to each
other.
(4) Let us specify more dearly the nature of the ideal and real activities
by contrasting them with each other.
(A) There can be no real activity of the I apart from ideal activity, for
it is the essence of the I to posit itself. In order for the l's activity to be
real, it must be [posited] by the I,9 but it is posited by means of the ideal
activity. 8
We ascribe force to a natural object; but, since such an object lacks
consciousness, we do not say that it possesses this force "for itself." Only
the I possesses force for itself.
(B) Conversely, there is no ideal activity of the I apart from real ac-
tivity. An ideal activity is a [real] activity that has been posited by the I
6
"eine i.;_ die Ruhe sezen, ein sich im Objeae verlieren, ein im Objecte fixirtes An-
schauen." The translation follows Fuchs's alternate reading of this passage, which substi-
tutes "in der Ruhe" for "in die Ruhe."
7
"in dem realen:•
8
"Die REALE bringt etwas R.EEu.ES hervor."
9
"so mull sie duoch das Ich sein." It appean likely, especially in the light of the next
sentence, that the word g.saJ ("posited") should be inserted in this sentence, between "Ich"
and "sein." Without this interpolation, the sentence could be translated: "In order for the
l's aaivity to be real, it must be produced by the I."
8 There is no real activity (qua activity of the I) without ideal aaivity; for the self-
positing of the I is impossible without ideal activity, and the aa of self-positing is precisely
the I-hence the I too would not exist if the ideal activity did not exist (p. 45).
and has then itself become an object of reflection and is, in turn, rep-
resented by means of ideal activity. Otherwise, the I would be like a mir-
ror, which indeed "represents" things, but does not then turn around
and represent itself.
• That the ideal activity itself becomes an object in turn is something
postulated along with the I. But it is made into an object by real activity.
Thus if there is no real activity, then there can be no self-intuition of the
ideal activity. Without the real activity, the ideal activity would have no
object, nor would it be anything if the real activity had not placed some-
thing before it.c {Thus, without real activity, there would be no activity (45)
of the I as an object. Ideal activity is the product of the practical power.}
49 (C) Without noticing it, we have already {filled the gap} indicated
above; 10 that is, we have shown that immediate consciousness is no con-
sciousness at all, but is a hollow self-positing that produces nothing, an
intuition in which nothing is intuited. Thus we have discovered the an-
swer to the question, How is it that the I goes beyond immediate con-
sciousness and forms consciousness within itself? 11 For if the I is to exist
at all, then immediate consciousness must, in turn, be posited through
absolute freedom. 0 This act of placing oneself before oneself through
absolute freedom is a free act; but, if the I is to exist, this same act is also
necessary.
Accordingly, the ideal activity would be a product of the practical
power, and the practical power would be the existential foundation of
the ideal activity. Nevertheless, one should not think of these as sepa-
rated from each other. The ideal is the subjective aspect of the practical;
it is that which witnesses the practical; and, since nothing exists for the
I except what is observed by the I, it is therefore only thanks to the ideal
activity that anything exists for the I.
{In §§ 1 and 2 the task was to produce the I. The task of§ 3 is to dis-
cover the basis for the I's movement of transition from what is determin-
able to determination. The former task was based upon the ideal
activity, the latter upon the real activity. The former witnessed the pro-
ductive activity; the latter is the productive activity itself. This real ac-
tivity is thus the condition for the possibility of all intuiting, for there is
no intuiting without acting. Real activity is therefore the foundation of
c Conversely, there is no ideal activity apart from a real activity of the I. It is by means
of the real activity that the I itself, in turn, becomes an object for itself (p. 45).
10
The "gap" left open by our previous failure to answer the question, "Why must the I
apr.;ar to itself as an object?"
1
"wie k.ommt das Ich dazu aus dem unmittelbare Bewustsein herauszugehen, und in
sich das Bewustsein zu bilden."
0
How then can the I proceed beyond immediate consciousness? It does this by positing
itself, which occurs when immediate consciousness becomes consciousness. This occurs
through the act offreedom, that is, through an act in which consciousness places itself before
itself and produces itself out of itself- i.e., by means of spontaneous self-activity, which
constitutes the essence of the I (p. 45).
§ 3 143
ideal activity. The ideal activity is the product of the practical power. At
bottom, however, these are but one and the same action, simply consid-
ered from different points of view. Therefore, if one is what is grasped
conceptually, 12 the other is what is intuited, and vice versa. Neither can
exist apart from the other, without which it is nothing at all.}
1, the subject who acts realiter, 1 ~ affect myself. First I am undeter-
mined, and then I become determinate. I accomplish this by myself. I
grasp and lay hold of myself realiter. Since this is an act of a self-affecting
I, this act of [self-]affecting is accompanied by an ideal activity, by an act
of intuiting-in short, by consciousness. Precisely because it becomes
consciousness, this consciousness becomes an intuition of itself.
{An image of this real activity is that of a river that continues to flow
even while it mirrors itself in our eye. What our eye does when it ob-
serves the river corresponds to the ideal activity.
Real activity is also what in ordinary life is called "exerting oneself'-
i.e., generating, from out of ourselves, as it were, a new effort that ex-
ceeds our customary effort.}
To say that self-intuition is a product of the practical power means:
insofar as I affect [myself] realiter, I observe myself; and this act of ob-
servation constitutes self-intuition.
tween the "content" (given) and the "form" (produced) of experience. For Fichte's critique
of Reinhold's way of making this distinction, see his 1794 review of Aenesidemus (SW, 1:
17-18 = AA l, 2: s8-6o; English translation in EPW, pp. 71~2). ,,
17 "in wiefern es REALth3tigen Wesens ist."
18
"das wirkende Ich."
19 "Ich bin mir daher unmittelbar bewu~t. wei! ich mir bewu~t bin.-so auch hier. Wir
mii~n etwas haben, das in Beziehung auf dieses IDEALE UNMITI'ELBARES OBJEKT ist weil
sonst jene IDEALE Thatigkeit LEERE IDEE ist-u. dieses ist die Freiheit, das MACHEN-das
ANSCHAUENDE---<iie ganze ICHHEIT."
§ 3 145
itself-i.e., freedom. The sentence, "the I posits itself," thus has two
inseparably linked meanings: an ideal and a real meaning, which are
simply united in the I. There is no ideal positing without real
spontaneity, 20·E and the converse is also true. There is no self-intuition
without freedom, and vice versa. Nor is there any consciousness without
self-intuition.
Prior to the act of freedom, there is nothing; everything that exists
comes into being along with this act of freedom. But the only way we are
able to think of this act is as a movement of transition from a preceding
state of determinability to one of determinacy. Thus, from whichever
side we look, we are always speaking of the same thing, though we view
it in two different ways, and the axis around which everything turns is
the act of freedom. But this free act itself is not possible unless it is ac-
companied, on the one hand, by determinability or immediate conscious-
ness and, on the other, by what is supposed to be produced, i.e., the
intuited 1. 21 Neither of these two is separable from the other, and both
depend upon absolute freedom.
51 No person can point to the first act of his consciousness, because every
moment [of consciousness] is a movement of transition from indetermi-
nacy to determinacy, and thus every moment always presupposes an-
other one. 22
{Accordingly, this act of freedom lies originally at the foundation of
everything that exists. All that exists does so by means of this act. But if
this is so, then why are we only now calling attention to this origin?
Should this not have been presented in § 1?
Reply: As finite intellects we are able to think only discursively; and
therefore, in order to describe and to intuit this act of freedom, we had
to employ the help of something determinable. We could make our im-
mediate consciousness into an object only indirectly-i.e., by means of
determinacy-and therefore we had to discuss this first.}
20
"REALES Selbstanfangen."
E No ideal self-positing a pan from a real act of affecting or limiting oneself (p. 46).
21
The translation here represents a rather free rendering of the German text, a more
literal version of which would be: "Thus, whether we go forward or backward, we are al-
ways speaking of the same thing, though we view it in two different ways, and the axis
around which everything turns is the act of freedom. The act of freedom, however, is itself
impossible if there is nothing on the right (determinability, immediate consciousness) and
nothing on the left (what is supposed to be produced, the intuited 1)." Radrizzani plausibly
suggests that Fichte, in this passage, was referring to a diagram drawn on the black-
board-which would explain the otherwise puzzling references to "left," "right," "forward,"
and "backward."
22
See Fichte's announcement of this conclusion in his letter to Reinhold of july 2, 1795:
'The surprising result is now revealed [ ... ): namely, th.at there is no A that is absorbed
into consciousness first, nor can there be. Instead, however high one ascends, something
higher is always presupposed. For example, every intuition is necessarily posited in the
presem point in time; but there is no presenJ point in time without a past one. Hence there
is also no present intuition without a past intuition to which it is joined. and there is no first
moment, no beginning of consciousness."
What is actually first, realiter, is freedom. But freedom cannot come
first in the order of thinking, and that is why we had to begin with the
investigations undertaken so far, which lead us to [an investigation of]
freedom.
One will find that this movement of transition [from what is deter-
minable to what is determinate] 2 .'1 (§ 2) possesses its foundation utterly
within itself. 2'~ The action involved in this transition is therefore called
"real activity" and is opposed to that ideal activity which merely copies
the former, and the overall {activity ofthe} I is thereby divided into these
two types of activity. In accordance with the principle of determinability,
no real activity can be posited without also positing a real or practical
power. Real and ideal activity mutually condition and determine each
other. Neither is possible without the other, nor can one comprehend
what either of them is without also comprehending the other. In this act
of freedom, the I itself becomes an object for itself. An actual conscious-
ness comes into being, and from now on anything that is to be an object
of consciousness at all must be connected to this starting point. Freedom
is therefore the ultimate ground and the first condition of all being and
of all consciousness.
3
" These bracketed words appear in the copy of this paragraph which Krause included
in the summary of the "Major Points of the WisseruchafLslehTe of •798/gg," with which the
manuscript of K commences.
•• The otherwise nearly identical, alternate version of the summary paragraph for § 3
begins somewhat differently; "This movement of transition, as such, is intuited as possess-
ing its foundation ullerly within itself" (K, p. 46).
§ 4
[ 1471
q8 § 4
8
Although Krause's MS reads "da~ sie fiir ein X da ist," the translation here follows the
published text of K ("da~ fur sie ein X da ist"), which seems to make more sense in this
context.
9
"leidend." I.e., it is affected by something else.
10
"das Begriindende." I.e. the freely active subject, here considered as providing the
"ground" or "foundation" for the constraint (and hence for the determinacy) of the ideal
activity.
11
"das ideale ist [es]." Throughout this entire paragraph, Fichte refers repeatedly to
"das ideale," "das praktische," and "es," without ever specifying precisely how these terms
are to be taken. Though diJs ideale might here refer to the 1 itself (das Ich), i.e., to the
"ideal 1," the corresponding passage in H clearly suggests that the reference is to the "ideal"
(and "practical") puwer (diJs Vermiigen) of the I, a reading that is confirmed by the dictn.t to
§ 1 in H.
2
"Es ist bildend, es mu~ das praktische sonach auch sezen als bildend. Es sieht gleich-
sam ein Bilden in das praktische hinein, und die~ Bild ists, wodurch das praktische dem
idealen zu sich selbst wird."
13
Reading "sie" for K's "es."
14
"Nun aber ist das praktische als frei anfangend kein nachbilden, jenes Bild des prak-
tischen ist daher kein Nachbild sondern ein Vorbild." Though the term VtWbild is usually
translated here as "model," this translation obscures the connection among Bild ("image"),
Nachbild ("copy"), and VtWbild. The last-named designates an image that is not copied from
some previously existing reality, but instead precedes it.
150 §4
action." Therefore, the concept of a goal must always underlie every free
action. The product ( = some X) is what I am supposed to achieve by
means of my own free action. My I, considered as the subject of my prac-
tical power (i.e., as forming an image of itself and developing itself
accordingly, 15 as self-initiating, and as consciously acting), must there-
fore always construct for itself in advance the concept of this goal. It re-
quires, as it were, a "model," 16 the realization of which is the goal of the
real activity.}
The intuiting subject is constrained by its very nature; i.e., it can act
only in consequence of something else. The subject that acts realiter
is absolutely free; it cannot be a consequence of anything else, but
must, with absolute freedom, construct a concept for itself, and such a
concept is "the concept of a goal" 17 or "an ideal." One does not claim
that anything corresponds to such a concept; instead, one claims that
something should be produced in consequence of it. The only way we
can think of an instance of free acting at all is to think of it in this
way, that is, as an acting that occurs in consequence of a [freely] con-
structed concept of acting; and when we think of it in this manner, we
ascribe intelligence to the practical power. Freedom cannot be thought
of apart from intelligence; freedom cannot exist without consciousness. 8
To deny consciousness is to deny freedom, and similarly, to ascribe
consciousness is to ascribe freedom. The ground of one's ability to act
freely lies within consciousness. {For without consciousness no sponta-
neous movement of transition to an opposed condition is possible. Ab-
solute spontaneity or freedom is present only in such a movement, which
simultaneously-and consciously-serves as the foundation for one be-
ing and, at the same time, as the foundation for another.
In nature we also find movements of transition from one state to an-
other, opposed state: e.g., a tree in winter and in spring. But such tran-
sitions are necessary and have their foundation in the laws of nature;
they occur without consciousness and therefore without freedom.
Thus consciousness contains within itself the reason why we are able
to think of freedom. No acts of self-affecting are to be found among the
operations of external nature-which includes nothing that interacts
with itself in order to become its own opposite, no self-reverting activity,
no self-determination. Why then does this occur within the I?}
The I determines itself. The little word "self' refers to "the 1." The I
determines itself; in determining itself it already possesses an awareness
15
"als selbst bildenden."
16
"ein Vorbild."
17
"ein Zwekbegriff."
8 Without intellect-i.e., without something that has a concept, a consciousness, of its
very essence of the eye to be an image for itself, and to be an image for
itself is also the essence of the intellect. By means of its own seeing, the
eye itself-like the intellect itself-becomes an image for itself. An im-
age is reflected in a mirror, but the mirror cannot see the image. The
intellect, in contrast, becomes an image for itself. What is in the intellect
is an image and nothing else. But an image refers to an object: wherever
there is an image, there must also be something that is portrayed [by this
image]. 21 {An image is something that is only subjective. The ideal ac-
tivity therefore requires an object, something that it copies; and this is
the real activity.} The ideal activity has also been described, therefore, as
an act of imitating or copying. Whenever a consciousness is assumed, an
object of consciousness is also assumed. This object can be nothing but
the acting of the I, 0 for the acting of the I is the sole, immediately
intuitable object of consciousness; everything else is intuited only indi-
rectly.22 Everything we see, we see within ourselves. We see only our-
selves, and we see ourselves only as acting, only as passing from what is
determinable to what is determinate.
The I is neither the intellect nor the practical power; instead, it is both
at once. {The I becomes a real I by acting and observing its own acting,
thereby providing the practical power itself with a basis for intuition;
that is, the I becomes a real I insofar as it is simultaneously subject and
object and simultaneously possesses both ideal and real power.} If we
want to grasp the I, we have to grasp both of these; separated from each
other, they are nothing at all.
{That to which self-activity determines itself-the freely constructed
concept of its goal-is thus a "something" = X. Otherwise it would not
be possible to intuit the self-determination.}
Everything is thus included within the practical I-practical activity23
as well as intuition. We now have a real I and a mere Idea [that is, the
concept of a goal]. We must begin with what is real, and thus from now
on we will be observing the actual acting of an actual I. This is an actual
fact: the I determines itself by means of its concept. Both practical power
and intelligence are to be ascribed to the I.
translation inserts a period after etwas and simply ignores the next word (the reading of
which is only conjectural anyway, as Fuchs notes).
21
"wo ein Bild ist, mufl etwas sein das abgebildet wird."
0
Thus the opposite inference is also correct: There can be no ideality of reality, no ideal
activity (consciousness or intellect) apart from practical power or real activity; for the im-
mediate object of the intellect (or ideal activity) is the acting of the I, namely, the move-
ment of transition from determinability, etc. This mode of acting, however, is a product of
the practical power; that is, it is a real activity (p. 49).
22 "alles Handeln des Ich ist nur unmittelbar anschaubar, alles iibrige nur mittel bar."
The meaning of this sentence is clarified by the parallel passage in H: "Nur dieses is UN-
MI'ITELBAR anschaubar," etc.
25 "PRAXIS."
Free self-determination is intuitable only as a determination to be-
come "something," of which the self-determining or practical {power} (4'
must possess a {freely constructed} concept. A concept of this sort is
called "the concept of a goal." Consequently, for the intuiting subject,
the ·same subject who possesses practical power must also possess the
power to form concepts, just as, conversely, the comprehending subject,
or {the power of} intellect, must necessarily be practical. 24 Practical
power and intelligence are inseparable. Neither can be thought of apart
from the other. The {true} character of the I thus lies in this identity.
24
"Sonach werde dem Anschauenden das Subjea des prak.t[ischen] Verm[ogens] zu-
gleich zu einem Vermogen der Begriffe, so wie umgek.ehrt das Subject des Begriffs oder
die lntelligenz nothwendig prak.tisch sein mu~."
55 § 5
[ 1541
§5 155
formation concerning] the necessary conditions for consciousness, then
we will have obtained a great deal. But how are we able to do this? Even-
56 tually, we will have to establish the foundation of the act of reflection we
are now going to describe, for otherwise our act of understanding would
be of no use. Here we will proceed just as we did above {in§ 1 and§ 2},
where we began with a description of original consciousness as an ideal
act of self-positing. We then posited the I in this state of self-positing;
and though it seemed that all this occurred with complete freedom, we
showed that these actions had to occur if an I was to be possible at all. -
(2) The question now is, How can something that is generated through
absolute spontaneity nevertheless become intuitable? That is to say,
what is it really?
We saw above that the question "what?" always signals an opposition.
When I ask "what is X?" I have in mind a sphere containing a manifold,
any one of the elements of which might be X. I want to know which of
these is X, and thus [before we can answer our present question] we first
have to know what is supposed to be posited in opposition to what is pro-
duced through self-determination.
Determinability and determinacy are related to the ideal activity,
which is constrained, and thus is not a deed, 2 but is instead a state of the
I. Consequently, what is intuited in this case can be characterized as
something that restrains [the ideal activity] or brings it to a halt~ and can
be related to the intuition. Perhaps it will turn out to be the case that
everything intuitable is something restraining, because ideal activity is
the sort of activity which can occur only as a result of something else.
The sole thing to which ideal activity is immediately related is real ac-
tivity. Consequently, whatever it might be that restrains ideal activity, the
ideal activity can surely be related to it only indirectly. Accordingly, if the
ideal activity is to be explained, then the practical activity has to be con-
strained; therefore, all limitation that appears within consciousness must
spring from the practical activity. Thus, in order to explain the con-
strained state of the ideal activity, we have to examine the real activity.c
2
"ist nicht That." As Fuchs notes, this might also be an abbreviation for Thiitigkeit, ("ac-
tivity").
'"sonach ist der Cha[rak]ter des hier angeschauten ein haltendes."
c What is delerminable is refi!TTed to the ideal activity, though this occurs indirectly and by
means of real activity (for the ideal activity is directly and immediately directed at the real
activity, and by means of this it is also directed at what is determinable, that is, at the
sphere of real activity). Ideal activity is therefore constrained or halted as such by what is
determinable; thus, this activity is not a deed, but is merely a state of the I. Hence what is
determinable is what stands in opposition to the product of the ideal activity. What is de-
terminable is what brings the intuition of the ideal activity to a halt or restrains it, and ideal ac-
tivity is what is restrained or halted thereby. Ideal activity is Hxed, brought to a halt, and
constrained by the acting of the real activity within the sphere of what is determinable;
(A) As was previously shown, 4 the practical I constructs for itself a
concept of its own activity, and such a concept is called "the concept of
a goal." 5
The {real} activity of the I is a passage from pure determinability to (5o)
determinacy. The latter is wrenched out of the total sum of the former,
57 and this part that is wrenched out is the part that is comprehended or
grasped through a concept. 6
"The I determines itself": this means that it makes a selection or
choice from what is determinable, and this choice is guided by the con-
cept; and to this extent, the I (considered as an intellect) was not free.
Let us think of what is determinable as "something." This is an ap-
propriate predicate, ,since what is determinable is intuitable. Absolute
freedom makes its selection from this "something" lying within the
sphere of the determinable. It cannot be constrained in making this
choice, for then it would not be freedom. It can go on like this end-
lessly-choosing more or less [of this "something"]. No part is pre-
scribed to absolute freedom as the last. This infinite divisibility will have
many consequences (concerning space, time, and things). Everything
[within this sphere] is infinitely divisible, because it is a sphere for our
freedom. 0
The practical activity is not constrained in making its selection, for
then it would cease to be freedom; it is constrained in this sense, however:
i.e., in that it has to make its selection exclusively from what is deter-
minable. What is determinable does not appear as something that has
been produced, either by ideal or by real activity; instead, it appears to
be something given for our selection. To say that it is "given" does not
mean that it is given to the I as such or in its totality, but rather that it is
given to the choosing, practical I. We have seen above7 that what is de-
consequently, the ideal activity is related to this sphere purely passively-as a product, a
mere observing, an intuition-not as something real.
But this intuition would not occur if there were not something to bring the intuition to
a halt, i.e., a sphere within which the real activity could show itself to be effectively active;
and this sphere, this "something" that restrains intuition, is what is determinable.
But precisely because the general character of what is determinable is to be something
that fixes the ideal activity and brings it to a halt, it is intuitable--i.e., it is ftsomething." A
"something," therefore, is what stands opposed to the ideal activity, what brings it to a halt
and constrains it (p. 50).
• See sect. 2 of § 4·
5 "wekher der Zweckbegriff hei~t."
6
"der herausgeri~ne Theil is der der begriffen wird.''
0
What is determinable is therefure infiniuly divilible. It is a sphere that contains a mani-
fold and cannot be simple, precisely because a selection is supposed to be made from it;
and, since this selection is supposed to occur with absolute freedom, this manifold must be
infinite. If what is determinable were to contain even a single part that could not be fur-
ther separated or divided, then there would be no alnoluli! freedom. [The character of]
what is determinable is therefore entirely and unconditionally dependent upon freedom
(p~. 5<>-5•).
See sect. 1 of§ 2.
§5 •57
terminable arises from the laws of ideal activity. Thus one could say that
it is given by virtue of the nature of reason. E
Freedom consists in this: that one can choose from among everything.
Constraint consists in this: that the selection must be made from this to-
tal sum. Here we obtain the concept of a determinate sum from which
fre~dom makes its selection. A fart of this total sum is called a "deter-
minate activity" or an "action."
Remark: (1) We here obtain [the concept of] the total sum of what is
determinable. We obtain this by reflecting upon our previous act of re-
flection, which is now construed as a determinate state of mind; but ev-
erything that is included therein thereby constitutes a complete whole.
In § 1 there was no mention of the tolality of what is determinable; nor
could there have been, since the intuiting subject there lost itself in the
sphere of what is determinable.
58 (2) We have here obtained the concept of an action. The act of self-
affection (as described in § 3) was possible in only one way. But now that
this act is posited as a passage from determinability to determinacy, it
must be possible for this act to occur in a variety of different ways. Self-
affection is an act that has an impact upon itself, 10 and if any diversity is
present therein, then something must be posited in consequence of this.
Self-determination is supposed to be posited as something manifold;
consequently, something has to be posited by means of which it appears
as a manifold, and this is acting.F
(B) Let us call the action that is selected "X," X is a part of the total
sum just discussed, and thus the predicate that applies to this total
sum must apply to X as well: action X must be infinitely divisible. But,
as always, this chosen part X is characterizable and intuitable only inso-
far as it is something determinate. X must thus be opposed to what is
E But what is determinable is, by virtue of the namre of reason, given to freedom;
therefore, freedom,• which is thereby dependent only upon itself, constructs for itself the
concept of its own mode of action, and is thus free (p. 51).
8
"sie." Though it is here construed as referring to ~freedom" (dU Frriheil), this pronoun
could also refer to "reason" (dU Vtmrnifl).
9
"eine bestimmte Thatigkeit oder eine Handlung."
10
"Die Selbstaffection ist Stojl auf sich selbst."
F Remark: (a) Where do we obtain this concept of a total sum? In reflecting upon our
previous act of reflection, we construed it as a completed 11 state of our mind, and thereby
the preceding determinability and determinacy became complete for us as well-became
a Wllllily for us. This does not mean [that we construe this state as] something (absolutely)
infinite, as if I could determine myself in only OTll! way; instead, it means that what must
occur as a consequence of this act of self-affection, i.e., acting, is infinitely manifold and is
possible in an infinite number of ways.
((!) For heaven's sake, one certainly should not think of what is infinitely divisible as any
sort of matter, space, etc. I
(y) The great advantage of placing absolute freedom at the apex of theoretical philos-
ophy as well [as at the apex of practical philosophy] is now evident (p. 51).
11 "vollendeten." That is to say, it was construed as a self-<:ontained or "complete" state
of consciousness, one that was not dependent upon any other state; and thus, in this sense,
it could be called a "totality."
determinable, for only on this condition is everything that has been re-
quired up to this point possible. 12
{The action of the I is the whole, and this is infinitely divisible. X is a (51)
part of this whole; it is what is determinate and is intuitable as such, in
opposition to what is determinable. What is determinate is thus distin-
guished from what is determinable in that the whole ( = what is deter-
minable) is intuitable only on the condition that what is determinate is
intuitable. What they have in common must thus be that both are divisible.
Therefore, if what is determinate ( = what is intuitable) is divisible, then
it is also "something."}
What now is the overall character of what is determinate? What dis-
tinguishes it from what is determinable? The real activity determines it-
self to act, and this real activity cannot be intuited: it is not "something";
it is not divisible; it is absolutely simple. {Only acting can be intuited; what (52)
is determinable cannot be intuited.} Accordingly, that to which the I de-
termines itself when it affects itself-i.e., acting-must be intuitable.
This, however, is not possible unless freedom is constrained in the course
of the acting of the practical activity. Yet this freedom must not simply
be canceled; it must be and must remain an activity, and thus it must be
simultaneously constrained and not constrained; both must occur.C
An instance of acting, 1g therefore, would be something within which
the real activity would be both constrained and not constrained. What is
constrained in this case is the real activity itself, and this passivity on its
part indicates the presence of something that arrests its activity and
brings it to a halt. Intuition becomes 14 possible only insofar as freedom
is arrested.
Let us call this action "X." This X must be intuitable; but since acting
is freely determinable, it possesses infinite divisibility, 15 and therefore X
can be divided into [parts] A and B, each of which can be further di-
12
This conclusion follows from the aforementioned "principle of determinability":
something (in this case, the determinate state or action of the I) can be "determined"
or "specified" only by being "opposed" or "posited in opposition" to something else-that
is, it can be defined only with reference to its "opposite" (in this case, to "what is deter-
minable").
G Acting (or the movement of transition [from what is determinable] to what is deter-
minate, to "something") cannot be intuited unle.ss freedom is constrained. But this does not
mean that freedom is thereby canceled, nor does it mean that (like the ideal activity) it [the
real activity] will turn out to be nothing more than an act of imitating something else. In-
stead, in order for the real activity to be an object of the ideal activity, i.e., in order for the
acting of freedom to be intuited, it must limit itself to some portion of the whole. But this
constrained freedom must also still remain an activity (pp. 51-52).
•~ "ein Handeln."
•• Reading, with Krause's MS, "wird" for K's "ist."
15 The translation here follows Radrizzani's proposed emendation and substitutes Teil-
barkeit for K's Bestimmbarkeil ("determinability"). This substitution not only makes more
sense in the context, but is supported by the parallel passage in H and by the summary
paragraph at the end of this § of K. :'
''
§ 5 1 59
vided, and so on, ad infinitum. Even if one were to continue this process
of division forever, one would never encounter a single point that would
59 not contain both activity and a hindrance to activity. This is what consti-
tutes continuity, 16 a continuous line of acting; and whatever progresses
in a continuous line is called "acting."H (We are not yet concerned with
time.) 1
Freedom is absolute self-affection and nothing more; but freedom is
not something manifold, and therefore it cannot be intuited. A product
of freedom is here supposed to be intuitable, however, and thus, in this -
manner, freedom itself is supposed to be indirectly intuitable. This can
occur only if several different acts of self-affection are posited, and these
various acts of self-affection would be distinguished from each other
only by the multiple forms of resistance posited in opposition to them.
But a resistance is nothing apart from an activity; and to the extent that
a resistance is overcome, it is absorbed into the I. 18 The I can see nothing
but itself, but it can see itself only insofar as it is engaged in acting. But
when the I acts it is free; i.e., it is engaged in overcoming resistance}
16
"Stetigkeit."
H Constraining 17 is a real arresting of activity, and thereby we obtain an intuition of what
is constrained (B), that is, of freedom, as well as an intuition of what constrains it (A).
(A) What constrains ( = X) must be something intuitable, since, as an action, it is surely
a part of what is determinable. It is a quantum, a manifold, and must, like the totality of
which it is a part, be infinitely divisible. That is to say, I can divide part X into A and B, A
into C and D, C into E and F, etc. When I proceed in this way I am, to be sure, self-active,
but my self-activity is restricted by A and B, and then by C and D, etc. I always proceed
from one point to the next. Each of these points arrests my self-activity somewhat and hin-
ders it in its forward progress, but none of them halts it once and for all and in its entirety;
instead, my self-activity overcomes the resistance of A, and then moves on to B, etc. Thus
there is no point within X which does not include both activity and hindrance-i.e., in
which constrained and unconstrained freedom are not simultaneously present. Every pos-
sible point contains both. Acting is thus what progresses in a continuous line-<ontinuity (p. 52).
17
"Das BINDEN."
1
In discussing this forward motion, one should abstract from any concept of time, for
the latter arises only as a result of connecting several different points, one after another,
to form a series. But no particular points are present in the case of a continuous line; in-
stead, such a line is the schema of the contents of time. Continuous activity does not progress
in fits and starts, that is, in a series of individual surges, through which the activity is, as
it were, repeated and carried forward; instead, such activity continues without any inter-
rup,tion (p. 53).
8
"kommt er ins Ich." More freely: "the I becomes aware of it."
1 (B) Freedom is supposed to be posited, i.e., intuited. But it cannot be intuited; for, as
an act of self-affection, it is not a quantum, not a manifold. I can affect myself in only one
way. Thus it must be intuitable as an action indirectly, through its product. This can occur
only on the condition that several acts of self-affection are posited, but these various acts
can be distinguished from one another only through the resistance that freedom over-
comes; consequently, the I becomes free 19 only if some resistance is posited in opposition
to freedom and only if freedom overcomes this resistance. Only in acting does the I see
itself. Freedom becomes intuitable by the I through acting, since it is only by overcoming
resistance that acting is.free-and only in this way do we become conscious of our own free-
dom (p. 52).
19
"kommt diese ins IcH."
160 § 5
20
"die Freiheit wirkt ununterbrochen fort; der Widerstand giebt ununterbrochen
nach."
21
Reading, with H, "ruckweise" forK's "riickwarts" ("backward"): "Dieses Handeln geht
nicht [ruckweise] sondern in einem fort."
K This acting of the real activity is "continuity": i.e., self-affection proceeds from only a
single point; it encounters resistance, which then gives way. Freedom always proceeds for-
ward without interruption, although it is always accompanied by some resistance-which
it constantly overcomes. The whole is therefore a constant progression of acting, always
one and the same act of self-affection, which is extended by intuition into a continuous line
(pp. 52-53).
~ 2 "Wiirksamkeit."
"Reading, with Krause's MS, "all<ein> forK's "alle<s>."
§ 5 161
minacy of the practicali.L In the first case, {that is, so long as the prac-
tical power is still engaged in choosing,} we are concerned with the
concept of a merely possible action; in the second case, {that is, to the
extent that the practical power is constrained and the sequence is
determined,} we are concerned with the concept of an actual action. The
que:;tion "What is X?" has now been answered. X is an actual action, in
opposition to one that is merely possible.
Corollaries:
( 1) These concepts {of possibility and actuality} are particular deter-
minations of the intellect in relation to the practical power that must
necessarily be thought of in connection with the intellect. When the
practical power is posited as itself engaged in creating concepts {of a (5•
goal, and hence, as free}, then the intellect itself is free as well, and from
this there arises the concept of "the possible." When the practical power
is posited as actually acting, then it is constrained in relation to the se-
quence of the manifold; and the intellect is constrained along with it,
{and thus there arises the concept of "the actual"}.
(2) Everything actual and possible is actual and possible only in rela-
tion to the action of the I, for we have derived these concepts of actuality
and possibility from the intuition of acting. All intuition-and thereby
all consciousness-is conditioned by the intuition of what is actual.
Consciousness-or intuition-of what is actual is called "experience";
therefore, all thinking begins with experience and is conditioned
thereby. Only through experience do we become something for our-
selves; subsequently, we can abstract from experience.
Intuition of what is actual is possible only through an intuition of an
actual instance of acting on the part of the I; therefore, all experience
begins with acting, and only thereby is experience possible at all. 24 If
there is no acting, then there is no experience; and if there is no expe-
rience, then neither is there any consciousness.
How are objects, which are supposed to be external to us, simulta-
neously supposed to be within us? The Wissenschaft.slehre answers this
L The pr-dctical I or real «tlivity «ppears as free only while it is-through a<;ting,
through ordering [the manifoldJ--busy constructing a concept of iu goal, which pertains
to the sphere of what is determinable. The practical activity, in cooperation with the in-
tellect, arranges those parLS it wishes to remove from the sphere of what is determinable,
and [while it is engaged in doing this it] oscillates between being and not-being. But once
it has affected itself, the sequence of acting is then determined for it in the concept of the
manifold: things must now proceed in a certain order. The practical activity is then con-
strained to a fixed series of paru-and the intuition of the intellect is similarly constrained
along with it (p. 53).
•• "also aile Erfahrung geht a us vom Handeln, es ist nur durch sie moglich." The pro-
noun es in this sentence appears to have no antecedenL The parallel passage in H suggests
that the reference might equally well be consciousness (das BtnJJU{Jisein) or the I (das lch).
Another possibility, adopted in the translation, is to transpose the two pronouns ("sie ist
nur durch es moglich").
162 § 5
... The result of the preceding is that both concepiS [of possibility and of actuality I exist
only in relation to the acting of freedom: all consciousness is consequendy conditioned by
r
consciousness of whaJ is actu.o.l, i.e., c:r:perimce. All consciousness begins with experience, be-
cause all experience begins with acting and is possible only insofar as it is related to the I
acting of the I, just as it is only through the intermediary of acting that the I is able to {
think of iiSelf-or to posit itself, or to intuit itself-as free. For the I can become conscious
of iiS activity only insofar as it acts, i.e., only insofar as it is limited and iiS activity is hin-
dered; and thus freedom becomes the immediate object of the I only to the extent that the
I has indirecdy intuited iiS freedom through this acting and has discovered this acting to
be absolute (p. 54).
23
See KRV. A8o/B t o6ff.
26
Reading (with Hans Jacob's 1937 text of H) "Es" for the "Er" that appears in the AA
version of H.
27
SeeKRV. A!)tiB75 and A661Bgtff.
practical is the source of the theoretical. In the essay "Concerning a
Presumptuous Tone," which he has recently published in the Berliner
Monatsschrift, he does insist upon the supremacy of freedom. 28
Those who claim that human beings can be representing subjects
without also being active ones propound a groundless philosophy. It is in
the cc:>urse of acting that I first encounter objects. Here it becomes quite
clear what it means when we say that "the I sees the world in itself," or
"if there is no practical activity, then neither is there any ideal activity,"
or "if there is no acting, there is no representing."
(3) The only sort of action that can be intuited and is, in this respect,
really actual is twofold and contains both freedom and limitation, both
activity and the cancellation of activity; moreover, both of these are
united in every moment of acting.
This limitation of acting will eventually lead us to a Not-I-not, to be
sure, to anything that is present "in itself," but rather to something that
must necessarily be posited by the intellect in order to account for this
limitation. More specifically, we may also find that all possible actuality
originates from one single actuality. The original source of everything
actual is consequently the interaction, or union, of the I and the Not- I.
Accordingly, the Not-I is nothinf actual unless it is related to an instance
of acting on the part of the I, 2 for only on this condition and only by
this means does it become an object of consciousness. The "thing in it-
self" is thereby abolished once and for all. Moreover, the same thing is
62 true of the I as well: It appears in consciousness only in relation to a
Not-1. The I is supposed to posit itself, but it can do this only by acting;
acting, however, involves a relationship with the Not-1. The I is some-
thing only to the extent that it interacts with the world; both the I and
the Not-I are [first] encountered within this relationship. Once one has
discovered them, one can then separate them; but each of them, even
when considered in isolation from the other, still preserves its original
character and can be represented only in relation to the other.N
28
"Von einem neuerdings erhobenen vornehmen Ton in der Philosophie" (May 1796)
(KGS, VIII: 390-4o6. See especially p. 403).
29
"Es diirfte sich auch im einzelnen ergeben, dal} alle mogliche Wiirklichkeit, die es ge-
ben kann, aus einem wiirklichen entstehe. Der Urgrund alles wiirklichen ist demnach die
Wechselwiirkung, oder Vereinigung des lch und Nichtlch. Das Nichtlch ist sonach nichts
wiirkliches, wenn es sich nicht auf ein Handeln des lch bezieht." The point of this passage
is to emphasize the intimate connection between reality ( = "actuality" = Wirklichkeil) and
efficacious action (Wirk.samknt, from the verb wirken = "to have an effect," "to work," "to be;
active" = sich handeln). Throughout this discussion Fichte employs the term Wirklichkeil,
rather than Realitiit, in order to emphasize just this connection. Elsewhere in this same
text, however, he appears to use these two terms quite interchangeably.
N The Not-I is glimpsed by means of and along with acting. In itself, therefore, the Not-I
or the "thing in itself' is nothing; it is something only in relation to acting.
On this point the Wi.ssenschaftslehre explicates the Kantian philosophy
and at the same time provides it with a deeper foundation. Kant too
never sought any knowledge of a Not-I apart from the I, nor of an I
apart from the Not-I; both are [required for] Critical idealism, and this
is precisely what distinguishes it from all pre-Kantian philosophy. Crit-
ical idealism is neither materialism nor dogmatism. It is not materialism,
which begins with things; 0 nor is it the sort of idealism that begins with
mental substance; nor is it dualism, which begins with the mind and the
thing in itself, considered as two separate substances. Instead, Critical
idealism {-the Wi.ssenschaftslehre, along with the Kantian system in its to- (55)
tality -} either begins with their reciprocal interaction as such, or else
{begins with the absolutely united} accidental properties of both. 30 (Sub-
stance and accident are {for Critical idealism originally nothing but}
forms of our thinking, {employed for the purpose of explaining conscious-
ness}.) {Unlike materialism, which begins with substances, Critical ide-
alism arrives at them only subsequently.} Critical idealism thereby avoids
the necessity of having to deny either of these two. Materialism denies
what is mental, while [non-Critical] idealism denies what is material.
Nor does this system face the insoluble 31 task of uniting extremes that
cannot be united once they have been separated (as in the case of du-
alism); instead, it discovers the I and the Not-I to be united.
Nothing in the Wi.ssenschaftslehre is more crucial than this interaction
of the I and the Not-IP (a point that has been best understood by Privy
Councillor Schiller, in his "Letters Concerning Aesthetic Education"
published in Die Horen). 32 The I is intuitable only in reciprocal interac-
tion with the Not-1. It can be thought of apart from this relationship;
Similarly, the I is intuited only by means of acting-only through its interaction with the
Not-1. In itself, there is no pure, absolute intuition at all; instead, everything is discovered
only insofar as acting occurs. Therefore, the I in itself-apart from any relation to the Not-I
and without any interaction through acting-is also nothing, is a mere Idea. The I in itself
is indeed more than the Not-I in itself. The latter is nothing al aiL But at the same time, the
I in itself-as an Idea-is without any intuition [and thus]lacks reality for me (p. 55).
0
Materialism and, along with it, dogmatism (for when dogmatism is consistent it be-
comes materialism) start with a thing in itself (p. 55).
0
' "Der kritische Idealism us geht aus von ihrer Wechselwiirkung als solcher, oder als Ac-
CIDENS beider." The text of K is here modified not only by the insertion (as indicated with
scroll brackets) of material from H, but also by the omission of the second als. The corre-
sponding passage in H reads: "geht von dem absolul vereinigten AcCIDENS beyder-oder von
der Wechselwirkung des lcH und N.I.--aw."
" Reading, with Krause's MS, "unaflosbare" for K's "unauflosliche."
P This therefore is the decisive feature of the Wisseruchaftslehre, which it shares with no
previous philosophy. It [posits] no I without a Not-1-for it, everything depends upon this
reciprocal interaction [of the I and the Not-1].
Kant allows one to infer this, but he did not say it (p. 55).
' 2 J. C. F. Schiller's Ueber die iiesthetische Erziehung des Meruchen in einer Reihe von Briefen
was first published in installments in his own journal, Die Horen, in 1795. See especially
letters 11-16; English translation by Reginald Shell, Friedrich Schiller on the Aesthetic Edu-
cation of Man in a Series of Letters (New York: Ungar, 1965).
but then it is not actual, but is a necessary Idea. The Not-I, on the other
hand, cannot even be thought of [as existing] outside of reason. The I is
primary; the Not-I is secondary, and this is why one is able to think of
the I in isolation, but not of the Not-1.
{The opponents of the Wissenschaftslehre are only too correct and hit (!
th~ mark better than they themselves realize when they contend that
the pure I of the Wissenschaftslehre is-considered in itself--nothing. Of
course! For what are the characteristics of "being"? [Can one say that]
"the I is"? This term designates nothing but "being intuitable." Being
intuitable surely does not apply to the pure I. The pure I is a mere Idea,
whereas the I obtains actuality-i.e., intuitability, or being-only in con-
nection with or in relationship to the Not-1.
Similarly, the Not-I cannot be posited apart from its relationship to
our reason-or to the I; i.e., it can be posited only as existing/or us.
Remark: The Not-I can certainly be thought of as existing apart from
any connection with our individual reason. That is to say, the Not-I
might exist even if we did not, but then it would not exist for us. This is
why ordinary common sense has resort to [the thought of] a creator
when it considers the creation of the world: It is unahle to imagine the Not-/
apart from some relationship to a rational being, i.e., God. To be sure, the
creation of the world is explained differently in the Wissenschaftslehre.}
I
't
We have now seen that all consciousness is contained within and de-
duced from the following: a subjective factor, or the self-positing sub-
ject; an objective factor, or the practical activity [of the I]; and what is
objective in the proper sense of the term, i.e., the Not- I.
The term "objective" thus has two different senses: (I) In opposition
to the ideal activity, what is "objective" is the practical activity. (2) In op-
position to the I in its entirety, what is "objective" is the Not-1.
Our task from now on is to exhibit the possibility of what we have es-
tablished so far and to provide a complete account of the conditions of
this possibility. Now that we know what our specific goal is, we are al-
64 ready in a position to envision the completion of our task. Our system
will be complete once we arrive at the point where we can comprehend
that the I posits itself as self-posited; and we will reach this point in our
discussion of willing. 1• A
Further Investigations
(I) {We have seen that we are in a position to intuit our practical power (57)
only as acting, and moreover, only as conditioned by a previously con-
structed concept or goal.
Consequently, we are not concerned with any practical determination in
itself; i.e., we are not concerned with formal freedom or with an act of
1
"Wenn wir dahin kommen, wo wir begreifen, da~ das Ich sich selbst seze, als durch sich
selbst gesezt, so ist unser System geschl*n, und die~ ist der Fall beim Wollen."
"These three points-ideal activity, real activity, and the object (or hindrance)--will
provide the foundation for our entire scientific edifice, and everything that follows is al-
ready implicit within them. What we still have to show is how the I posits itself as self-
positing: i.e., we have to show that the I contains within itself the foundation of its entire
being-and, moreover, that this is contained within willing. This is the goal of our inquiry,
and when we have reached this point our entire project will be complete (p. 57).
168 § 6
able, considered as an infinitely divisible manifold. This concept comes into being b)'
means of material freedom, or freedom of choice, which could thus be described as "the
ideal activity of the practical power" (p. 58).
'"In wiefern das Ich in dieser FuNcnoN des Begrifs ideal ist, ist es doch gebunden."
The term Function is difficult to construe in this context, prompting Radriuani's sugges-
tion that this is probably an error of transcription on Krause's part and that Enlwetfung
should be substituted for Function. A more literal rendering of this sentence would be: "In-
sofar as the I is ideal in the function of the concept, it is nevertheless constrained."
§6 t6g
to be undertaken.} Its freedom consists in doing just this; but [in order
to do this] it has to intuit what is given as something given, and therein
lies its constraint. 4 ·c In short, there is here a movement of transition
from determinacy to an act of self-determining (or determinability).
{But note that this situation is just the reverse [of the movement of tran-
sition we discussed earlier]; for here we have a movement from what is
determinate to what is determinable, i.e., from c011Straint to freedom. Con-
straint is synonymous with determinacy, for it consists in the necessity of
having to view precisely this [manifold] as the given sphere of a possible
action-i.e., it consists in determinacy. In other words, what occurs here
is a movement of transition from what provides the conditions to what is
conditioned thereby.} The ideal activity is partially constrained (deter-
mined) and partially free. Freedom is what is conditioned; constraint is
what provides the conditions, {because} if nothing is given, then nothing
can be chosen. The construction of the concept of a goal can be imag-
ined in no other way.
(2) The question now arises, What is it that constrains [the ideal activity],
and where does this come from?
All we have learned so far about the sphere of what is determinable is
that it must be an infinitely divisible manifold. But if this is the only way
in which this sphere can be characterized, then it is nothing at all. Some-
thing whose sole distinguishing feature is infinite divisibility furnishes
us with no stopping place and with nothing that could constrain the ac-
tivity of the I. But without constraint, there would be no ideal activity;
and without ideal activity, there would be no infinite divisibility. Conse-
quently, the concept of something that is not supposed to be anything
more than "infinitely divisible" is a self-contradictory concept. Yet this
65 very concept appears among the conditions for the possibility of con-
sciousness, and thus it would appear that consciousness includes among
its conditions something impossible. 0 {In this way, we would never
obtain a "something," never anything positive or posited; [instead, we
would have a situation] in which something is forever posited in oppo-
sition, a situation in which something conflicting is always encoun-
tered-and no consciousness could ever come into being in such a case.
4
"ihre Gebundenheit."
c But the ideal I or the ideal activity of the I is constrained by the fact that this concept
must be assembled [from a specific manifold]. It is free to choose; but in choosing it is at
the same time constrained (p. 58).
0
What constrains the ideal activity is the given manifold, or what is determinable; and
we are acquainted with this so far [only] as an infinitely divisible manifold. This, however,
is nothing at all-a contradiction; for a continuous process of simply dividing would include
nothing at all that could be related to the ideal activity or could bring it to a halt, would
itself be nothing at all; and, in that case, the ideal activity would itself be nothing. Even if
the ideal activity were to continue dividing forever, it would never be able to grasp the
manifold as such; instead, the manifold would simply continue to dwindle away, and this
would mean that no consciousness whatsoever would be possible (p. 58).
170 §6
5
"nicht da~ sie als beweglich fortgeriflen werde." t
E This ideal activity itself is now supposed to be constrained. (It should not, as occurred
above in the case of the intuition of the J as movable, be carried away along with it-
through an agility (act) the ideal activity was there carried away along with it) [p. 59].
F Since there can be no consciowness of anything except by means of opposition, there
must be states of mind which, in opposition to other states of mind, cannot be further
divided and broken down, and which have nothing in common with other mental states,
belond the fact that they are all included within the sphere of what is determinable (p. 59).
"Grundeigenschaften."
7
"Gebundenheit."
and doing. 8 • G This derivation of the possibility of opposition does not
contradict the previously affirmed infinite divisibility [of the manifol~];
for I can certainly increase or decrease one and the same being.
Later on we will see that what we have just described is precisely what
is given through immediate feeling, 9 e.g.: red, blue, sweet, sour. The
state of mind involved in such feelings is one of unity rather than mul-
tiplicity; divisibility is still present, however: namely, in respect to
degree. 10 I can have a sensation of what is red to a greater or to a lesser
degree, but I cannot say where red ceases to be red." {Accordingly, in
order for the ideal I to be able to construct a concept of its action, a man-
ifold, a "something," must be given [to it], through which it is con-
strained, or, as it were, "fastened down," and from which it assembles its
concept.} How is it possible to posit or to be conscious of such a "some-
thing"? How does it become present within the I?
(3) This "something" and the consciousness thereof precede all acting,
for they provide the conditions that make acting possible. 11 • 1 "The
given" is the sphere of all possible acting. But acting is absolutely not
66 anything simple; instead, it is twofold: It includes, so to speak, an ex-
pansion of {absolute} self-affection, and it also includes some resistance (6o)
to the same, which is what brings this process of expansion to a halt and
makes it into something intuitable. Acting is what lies within the sphere
of what is determinable; every possible instance of acting must include 12
[1] something that pertains to the I (activity) and [2] something that re-
sists it.
8
"ein Gesetztsein[,] durch welches ein Werden und Machen NEGIRT wird."
G ("Being" here signifies the negation of activity-a being-posited, through which some
act of becoming and producing is negated.)
The ideal activity becomes ideal in just this way: it is determined, and the practical ac-
tivity is determined along with it, for its choice cannot extend beyond these elementary
qualities (p. 59).
9
"durch das unmittelbare Gefiihl."
10
wdem Grade nach."
H In the case of all colors and sounds, as well as in the case offeelings of taste, the mental
state is one of unity. Degree is certainly present, yet no one can say how much is required
before such a state ceases completely-at what point, for example, red ceases to be red.
Hence no movement of transition occurs here; the opposition in this case is purely by
means of sensation (p. 59).
11
"denn das Handeln ist dadurch bedingt."
1
This "something" precedes all acting and conditions the concept of acting, for no con-
cept can be constructed where there is nothing-i.e., where there is no manifold. Such a
"something" must indeed precede all consciousness of acting, and yet we have previously
maintained that the I is conscious of nothing beyond its own activity. Is the I now supposed
to be conscious of something that is not an activity? (pp. 59-6o).
12
Though the text of K states that acting itself must be both these things, the context (as
well as the- parallel passage in H) makes it clear that we are concerned with two different
components contained in every instance of acting, though Fichte sometimes (as in the fol-
lowing paragraph) prefers to characterize these as two different "aspects" of one and the
same wsomething."
This "something" is posited not as an actual acting, {but only as a striv-
ing; it is only the concept of a possible action within this sphere, and we
are considering the I at this point only as a power to act freely}. Hence
that aspect of it which pertains to the I cannot be explained by referring
to any actual act of self-affection. The I is here posited only as a power
to act within the manifold. This power does not appear here merely as
one that it is possible for us to conceive, however; but rather it presents
itself as something intuitable, and, to this extent [that is, insofar as it can
be intuited], "being" can be ascribed to it. {Something is supposed to be
given to the intuiting subject, something that brings intuition to a halt.}
The characteristic feature of being is determinacy; therefore, an original
determinacy, [an original tendency] toward acting as such or "in
general" 13 must here be present.
• Once posited, the I is free not to act "in general," but only to will to
act in this or that specific way: here we arrive at a necessary acting. Ac-
tivity constitutes the very essence of the I; accordingly, what we are deal-
ing with here is the being of activity. In constructing a concept of its own
willing, the I is constrained; but constraint points to the presence of
some being-indeed, a being of the I itself. 14 That which constrains [the
I], and, to this extent, possesses "being," 15 belongs to the I itself. But
here the I is practical (activity), and therefore the being in question is the
being of an activity. Two mutually contradictory concepts (namely, being
and activity) are here united, and this unity is here treated as something
found or discovered} I discover something out of which I assemble [the
concept of] my acting. I myself, however, am included in what I discover
in this manner; hence activity is here present as something discovered.
Activity of this sort is a suppressed activity, 17 and from this it obtains the
character of being. Such a "something," however, is a "drive," 18 a self-
engendering striving, which has its foundation within that to which it
""Der Character des Seins ist Bestimmtheit, folglich mu~te hier liegen urspri.ingliche
Bestimmtheit zum Handeln uberhaupt."
14
15
"ein eigendkhes Sein."
Reading, with H, "SEYENDE ist" forK's "sezende ist" ("is engaged in positing").
1 The characteristic feature of being, however, is determinacy. Accordingly, the I is not
free as soon as it is posited, but it is free only in making its choice; in constructing the
l
'.,
.
concept of this choice, however, it is constrained. Its power is no longer a mere power, but
is a necessary one-not, to be sure, a power that is acting, but rather one whose activity is
suppressed. This activity of the I therefore acquires the character of "being" (in the second
sense of the term: a "fix.ed" being). This being that suppresses and constrains also pertains
to the I (for this is precisely what distinguishes the I from an action); but at the same time,
it is something practical-a deed-and therefore it would be the being of an activity. These
two apparently contradictory concepts are here synthetically united: here is a deed' 6
(p. 6o).
16
"hier ist That."
17 "ein zuri.ickgehaltene Thatigkeit."
18
"ein Trieb."
§ 6 173
belongs. (See pp. 286-87 of the compendium.) 19 A drive is an activity
that is not any type of acting; it is something that arrests, something that
determines the ideal activity, a constant inner disposition 20 to overcome
what resists it.K (Similar to the disposition of a compressed steel spring.)
{Drive and limitation are one and the same.} (61)
67 Wheneve.r one posits a drive, one must necessarily also posit some-
thing that hinders activity; for the drive explains the necessity of acting,
but the reason 21 the drive fails to become an instance of acting and re-
mains a drive must lie elsewhere.
To the extent that the foundation 21 of an activity lies within the sub-
ject, one can say that the foundation of a drive also lies within the sub-
ject. Insofar as a drive is a drive and not an activity, however, its
foundation does not lie within the subject; and since something is
present that hinders the activity, the activity is indeed canceled. Conse-
quently, we are unable to escape from this reciprocal relationship.L
(4) {Drive precedes all acting and makes acting possible.} What now fol-
lows from this drive of the I? If one were to suppose that the I were not
limited and that its drive were an activity, then the I would be an act of
self-affection and nothing more. The I would not be constrained, and
consequently, no ideal activity would be present; ideal and real activity
would coincide. We are unable to think of anything of this sort which
would pertain to us; instead, it would describe the self-consciousness of
God, thought of as unitarJi 22 (See the remark within parentheses on p.
275 of the compendium.)
19 GWL As always in this translation, Fichte's references 10 the page numbers of the first
edition of 1794/95 have been replaced with references lo the lexl of the FoundatUm.s of IN
Emire Wwenschafuuhr. included in Vol. I of SW.
20 ~eine innere fortdauernde Tendenz."
Let us now move from this [unlimited] state to the limited one. 2 s Now
the I is unable to act; its practical activity is brought to a halt, {and be-
cause of the resistance it encounters, it is no longer an activity at all, but
is merely summoned to act. A limited I of this sort possesses a drive, with
which, however, consciousness is necessarily linked or through which it
first acquires its consciousness.}
{From this drive we derive the following important result: The I can
never be coruciou.s unless a drive or limitation is present.} It is the character
of the I to posit itself idealiter, i.e., to intuit itself; and only now is such an
act of self-intuition possible, for only now is something present which
has been brought to a halt. The I must necessarily be conscious of its
drive or state of limitation. Consciousness follows from the presence of
a drive. 24 If the I were nothing but activity, and if no limitation were
present within it, then the I could not be conscious of its own activity. N
Nothing can occur within the I without consciousness. A drive is now
present within the 1; consequently, some consciousness thereof must also
exist. {What is highest in man is his striving or his drive.}
Remark: (A) Ideal and real activity diverge at this point, {i.e., as soon
as limitation is introduced,} and the previously described opposition of
the two now becomes possible. We are here standing at the limit25 of all
I
consciousness, because we are considering the very origin of all con-
sciousness.0 I
(B) Ideal activity is possible only as constrained activity. Its immediate
object is the practical activity. Its constrained state depends upon the
practical activity, which must originally be a striving, and this is the or-
igin of consciousness. P
I
j
Practical activity is constrained, and to this extent it is merely a drive or striving. But a
coruc.iousness must accompany this drive (p. 62).
•• "Diese Erkenntnifl erlangt es aber nur dadurch, dafl es sich bewuflt werde, dalJ ihm
das Materiale einer mtiglichen Handlung unmittelbar gegeben sey, u. woher fiir das freye
Wesen der STOFF fiirdie Wahl seiner Freiheit, oder zur Entwerfung seines Zwecksbegrifs-
komme, u. dafl ihm dieses Materiale oder der Stoff unmittelbar gegeben werde." The
terms Materiak and Stoff appear to be employed interchangeably in this passage.
176 §6
{activity} must, in this case, coincide: what is ideal {-that is, conscious-
ness-} would here have to be its own object, {and we would thereby
obtain} an immediate consciousness, and this is a "feeling."
One never "feels" an object; an object is "intuited." All objects-
including instances of acting-are supposed to be something even apart
from my consciousness of them.Q To be sure, the transcendental philos-
opher does not forget that nothing could exist apart from consciousness,
but ordinary common sense does not see things in this manner. One dis-
tinguishes between acting and consciousness. A feeling that is not felt,
however, is nothing whatsoever. Reflection is necessarily and inseparably
conjoined with feeling. R A feeling is nothing more than an act of posit-
ing a determinate state of the I.
{The particular form of consciousness which makes its appearance at
this point must necessarily be a feeling. Determinacy is present here, yet
it is not an intuition, for the I and the Not-1 are not yet present. To be
sure, this determinacy must subsequently be posited, but it is equally
true that the I cannot posit anything that does not exist. What then is
this mere determinacy-and the consciousness that flows from it-
which is supposed to be posited and is not a reality? Reply: It is a mere
affection, a mere state [oft he I]; and a positing of this sort is a "feeling."}
We have now described an indirect consciousness of an immediate ma-
terial, which is just what we required. {In a similar manner.} our previ-
ous search for the formal [condition] {required for the explanation of
consciousness} led us to the subject-object, to an act of self-positing. I
and Not-I a~pear together within this feeling, as we will see in more de-
tail below. 2 Thus it is not only in consequence of an act of self-
determination that the I and the Not-1 appear together; both are also
present in a feeling. Activity and passivity are united in feeling. Insofar
as activity is present, the feeling is related to the I; but insofar as pas-
sivity is present, it is related to a Not-1-though this is discovered within
the 1. 5 In factual terms, feeling is what comes first and is original. At this
Q Consequently, it is an incorrect use of language to say that one "feels" objects: one
does not feel objects; instead, one "intuits" them. The objects are there whether I enter-
tain any representations of them or not-just as it is also possible to act without being con-
scious of acting. Indeed, we usually act without giving any additional thought to the
intuiting subject (p. 63).
R There is no feeling apart from consciousness, however, without a feeling subject and
without something felt. Reflection, what is ideal, is here its own consciousness, united with
what is real, as its own object: I feel myself-( am at once the feeling subject and what is
felt.
In the case of intuition, in contrast, I am not also what is intuited (p. 63).
27
See below, § 7, sects. 5 and 6.
5
Just as we previously had to posit a subject-object in order to explain consciousness,
insofar as the form of the same is concerned, 28 so here as well, in the case of the matter or
content29 of the I, we would have to discover within the I an immediately determinate con-
sciousness, i.e., an immediate material. The situation with the matter or content is pre-
cisely the same [as it was with the form]: We may not allow the content of consciousness to
§6 •77
point one can already see how everything can be present within the I
and can see that one does not need to go beyond the I. All one would
need to assume is the existence of a manifold of feelings, and it would
not be difficult to show how our representations of the world could be
derived from this manifold.
(6) How is it possible for the I, in advance of all acting, to possess a cog-
nition of the possible modes of action~ 1 {in order to construct for itself (64
the concept of a specific mode of acting}? These possibilities of action
6g require that something positive and incapable of further analysis be
present within the manifold--{something that simply is what it is, whose
being must lie in something determinate.} something by means of which
the manifold itself first comes into being. {In short, we must assume}
that there have to be certain basic or elem~ntary qualities.~ 2 A feeling is
just such an elementary quality;~~ it is a determinate, limited state of the
entire I, beyond which the I cannot go. Feeling is the ultimate limit [of
consciousness] and cannot be further analyzed and assembled.T A feel-
ing simply is what it is and because it is. What is given through feeling
is the condition for the possibility of all acting on the part of the I;
i.e., feeling provides the I with its sphere of action, though not with its
object.u
Feeling is represented within the sensory world by something that
is "feelable" or "tangible," and this is posited as matter.M Matter is
be derived from something else, which must then, in turn, be derived from some third
thing, etc. lmtead, we must have an immediate object, i.e., feeling.
In feeling, the I and the Not· I are present in immediate unity with each other. This does
not occur as the result of any actual self-determination, through which some actual action
would be possible. Instead, that aspect of feeling which pertaim to the I is striving-a
drive, not an action. Activity and passivity are united in feeling. Activity, drive: this is what
is related to the I. But insofar as a passivity, a limited being,"" or a hindered activity is
present within feeling, then feeling <;an be .-elated to a Not·l, even though this feeling i•
discovered within the I itself (p. 63).
28
~bey der Form urn das Bewul\tsein zu erldiiren."
29
"bey der Materie."
0
' "ein 8ESCHRANKTSEYN."
" "der Handlungsmoglichk.eiten."
2
' "Grundeigenschaften."
""das Gefiihl ist <eins>.'' Instead of this uncertain reading of the last clause (which
could perhaps be rendered "feeling is something unified"), the translation here follows the
corresponding passage in H: "Das Gefiihl is so etwas," which might also be rendered:"Feel-
in~ is just such a positive 'something.'"
One cannot go beyond feeling. No action of the I can go beyond feeling, precisely be-
cause the entire I is limited at this point: Its ideal and real activities, along with everything
contained in the I, are here constrained, and thereby the entire power of the I is originally
limited. That which is supposed to be originally limited or constrained cannot be further
analyzed and then assembled anew (p. f4).
u What is given through feeling is not the object of an acting; it cannot be altered (p. 64).
"""Die Darstellung de• Gefiihls in der Sinnenwelt ist das fllhlbare, und wird gesezt als
Materie."
something that I can neither produce nor annihilate; nor can I do any-
thing to make it affect me differently than the way it does affect me in
accordance with its own nature, {because this constitutes the original
limit of the I's entire power}. To be sure, I am able to come closer to it or
to draw farther away from it. Moreover, what is positive has to be man-
ifold, since it is supposed to serve as the object of a free choice. Accord-
ingly, there must be a multiplicity of feelings; or, expressed differently,
the drive must be capable of being affected in variety of different ways-
a point that could also be expressed by saying that the I must possess
several different drives. This multiplicity of feelings cannot be deduced
or derived from any higher {characteristic of the 1}, for we have here
reached the limit {of all consciousness}. The manifold of feelings is pos-
tulated along with freedom itself. {If I am to be able to posit myself as
absolutely free, there must be a multiplicity of feelings; otherwise there
could be no choice, no self-consciousness-no freedom. Feelings pro-
vide freedom with its object; consequently, in accordance with the pos-
tulate of self-positing, there must be a manifold of feelings.} It is certainly
true that the manifold contained within the drive will subsequently show
itself to be a natural drive and will be explained with reference to
nature; 35 but nature itself is posited only in consequence of feeling.
These manifold feelings are completely opposed to one another and
have nothing in common. There is no transition from one feeling to an-
other. Each feeling is a specific, determinate state of the I, which would
seem to imply that the I itself is manifold. But what then would become
of the identity of the I? The I is supposed to relate this manifold [offeel-
ings] to itself and to view this multiplicity as its own. How is this possible?
{To be sure, one could say that the I, through the employment of in-
tellect, sees that, despite this manifold, it remains only one in the midst (65)
of this multiplicity. Yet this is not a sufficient answer.
The I is supposed to survey the manifold and to relate it to itself as a
manifold of its feelings. How is it possible to unify this multiplicity of
feelings within one and the same consciousness? How can this conscious-
ness compare these feelings with each other, since they are supposed to
be opposed states?}
Kant provided an excellent answer to the question concerning how
the manifold [of intuitions] is unified within consciousness; but he did
not explain how the manifold of feelings is unified, even though the an-
swer to the former question is based upon the answer to the latter. He
connected all feelings to pleasure and pain (see the CritUJu.e of judgment); 36
70 however, there must be some middle term between the relation of feel-
ings to pleasure and pain, some intermediary that alone makes this re-
55
"hinterher wohl wird dieses mannigfaltige im Triebe sich zeigen als Naturtrieb, and
wird aus der Natur erklart werden."
.,; See especially the Preface and § 9 (KGS, V: 168 and 21gff.).
§6 179
lation possible.v In order to sense whether A or B provides more
pleasure, I must first place them side by side, so that I can compare
them. How can both feelings be present for me at the same time?
Let us suppose that one samples two wines-not in order to discover
which of the two tastes better, but simply in order to obtain knowledge of
the differences in the way they "feel." A comparison of this sort would
appe~r to be impossible, for while one is tasting one wine, one is not tast-
ing the other. There is never more than one taste present, whereas a
comparison requires two. Nevertheless, everyone knows that he can in-
deed undertake such a comparison.
One must pay attention to the manner in which this is accomplished.
A tasting of this sort involves activity. One focuses all one's senses upon
the object one is tasting and concentrates one's senses upon it. One re-
lates this specific feeling to one's entire sensibility. w The second tasting
is accomplished in the same way as the first, and thus there is something
to which both tastes are compared and which they have in common:
namely, sensibility as a whole, which remains the same in both instances.
This account assumes the presence [within us] of a general system of
sensibility, which simply has to be there in advance of all experience, but
which is not immediately felt as such; instead, it is that by means of
which and in relation to which every particular feeling that can be felt is
felt. A particular feeling is an alteration in the regular and enduring
state of the system of sensibility.
This system of sensibility itself is [not] felt, because it is something de-
terminable rather than something determinate; therefore, unless its
state is altered, nothing is felt at all. If one thinks of the simple act of
feeling as an ideal activity, then it is governed by the law of ideal activity,
according to which something is posited only in the movement of
transition from what is determinable to what is determinate. 57 This is
the case here as well: a particular feeling is something determinate, and,
as such, it can appear within consciousness only if it is related to some-
thing determinable, which, in this case, is the system of sensibility.
Accordingly, the comparison of feelings is accomplished only indirectly;
every determinate feeling is compared with the system as a whole,x
v Kant's explanation of this, which relates all feelings to pleasure and pain, cannot ac-
count for all our positive, determinate feelings; for there must be something intermediate
between pleasure and pain, since not all feelings are accompanied by pleasure or pain
(p. 65)-
w Yet both [acts of tasting] depend to a certain extent upon our freedom. That is to say,
aclivily is involved in these acts of tasling: all our senses are united through this intuition
and everything foreign is dismissed. We see, hear, etc., nothing else; instead, our entire
sensibility is concentrated upon the whole system of our feeling (p. 65).
37
"welche nur im Uibergehen vom Bestimmbaren zum Bestimmten etwas sein konne."
The translation of this obscure passage is amended in the light of the corresponding pas-
sa§:e in H: "als welche nur gesezt ist durch das Uebergehen .... "
A panicular feeling is something determinate to the extent that it is posited in oppo-
sition to the sysem of sensibility or to what is determinable (p. 65).
180 § 6
{which is immediate and always the same and, as what is determinable, (66)
is something empty and confused, which is then altered}.
71 The last pretext for dogmatism is thereby removed. Even feelings are
not able to enter us from outside. They would be nothing for us if they
were not within us. If any feelings are to be present for us, then the en-
tire system of all feelings must be presupposed a priori.
(7) The system of sensibility is not felt as such; every feeling that is sup-
posed to be known must occur as a particular feeling. Therefore, several
feelings must already be present before it is possible to construct a con-
cept of a goal, {since, for the purpose of this construction, a manifold
must already be present, for otherwise no selection can occur. This man-
ifold is obtained through feeling, and each of these feelings, in turn, is
possible only insofar as a system of sensibility is presupposed.} Thus
something must already actually have been felt-e.g., a particular smell
or taste, which I never felt before, and which presents itself to me as
something particular. If this particular smell or taste had never pre-
sented itself to me, then I would never have been able to imagine it
merely because I possess a system of feelings.v This feeling has a place
within the system of feelings; but if it is to be present for me, it must be
present as a particular feeling. {If something particular is supposed to
have been felt, it must therefore have presented itself to me as some-
thing particular; and until this occurs, it cannot appear for me within
any possible concept of a goal.}
How can a feeling become the object of a concept? {This happens
when the practical I assembles a concept from the manifold; in this man-
ner the I becomes intuitable. To be sure, the I is at the same time the feeling
subject, but in this relationship the feeling subject is the object of the
intuiting subject. Feeling and intuition are distinct from each other.} In
the case of intuition, a reality is presupposed; but this is not so in the
case of feeling. The reality that is present here is the act of feeling itself.
I do not feel something; but rather I feel myself.
{Something determinate is and must be present when a concept of a
goal is constructed, and in contemplating this, I am merely the intuiting
subject; yet it is feeling that provides the original manifold for [the con-
struction of] the concept of a goal.} What then is the nature of the tran-
sition from feeling to intuition? I cannot intuit a feeling unless it lies
within me; thus, if I am to intuit a feeling, I certainly have to be a feeling
Y Each of my feelings is felt as something particular; that is to say, to the extent that the
system of my feeling is present and is merely altered in the same distinctive way on each
occasion, then I immediately recognize a particular feeling. But if I had never experienced
this or that particular feeling, then it would be and would remain completely unknown to
me. I could neither imagine it on my own nor become acquainted with it from the de-
scriptions of others; it would be nothing at all for me. For example, a person who has
never yet tasted a melon, etc. (p. 66).
§6 181
§6
The chief question is this: Since the I's consciousness is, in its entirety,
a consciousness of free activity, how can the I become conscious of its
own free activity?A
We know that, prior to anything else, the I must construct for itself
a concept of its own activity, namely, a concept of its goal; 8 and in order
to do this, it must be given a manifold from which to make a free choice
or selection. 1 This manifold is given to the I through feeling. Thus
77 we have already answered that portion of our question which concerns
the content or material of the I's concept of its goal, for we have [shown
how] the I is given the material from which it constructs its concept.
The formal portion of the question still remains to be answered, how-
ever: How does the I assemble the concept of a goal from the manifold
of feeling?
A The chief question to be answered by our Wissenscllllftslehre was the following: Since all
the I's consciousness is included within the consciousness of its own free activity, lww can the
I become conscious of this consciousnes.<? Or, since it is only by means of this free activity that
the I is all that it is, lww does the I now become conscious of this free activity? (p. 6g).
8
We found that the I exists and becomes conscious of itself only insofar as it acts.
It cannot act freely, however, unless it has previously constructed for itself a concept
thereof.
But how can the I construct such a concept for itself? (p. 6g).
1
Reading, with Fuchs, "fiir die Wahl durch Freiheit" for K's "durch die Wahl durch
Freiheit" ("[ ... ) a manifold through the free choice").
c Self-determination requires something to regulate it, and this is a concept, and there-
fore an object of the ideal activity (p. 6g).
t88 § 7
(2) The material from which the ideally active subject assembles its
concept is supposed to be supplied by the manifold of feeling. But a
feeling {is not an object of the ideal activity, [it]} is nothing objective; in-
stead, it is purely subjective. Nor is a feeling anything that can be
{intuited or} grasped conceptually, 5 {and thus no concept can be con-
structed from it}. Feeling and comprehending are opposed to each
other. The very things that are united within feeling must lie outside of
one another in the concept and in the intuition. Our present task is to
explain how the content of feeling 6 can become the object of an act of
intuition or comprehension.
78 (This is a very important question, because it will lead us to the object
proper-the Not-l-and will provide us with a description of the man-
ner in which the Not-1 is constructed.
Our question could also be phrased as follows: How does the I manage
to go outside of itself? The distinctive character of the Wissenschaftslehre
is revealed in this question. {How are we supposed to accomplish the
transition from what is merely subjective-feeling-to something objec-
tive, something that can hinder the activity of the I when it is acting?
Answer: through the productive imagination, which is simultaneously
free and constrained by laws, thanks to which the concept of its action
is at the same time also necessary.} The theory of the productive
imagination 7 here obtains a new clarity and solidity. The entire sensible
world is produced by the productive imagination, in accordance with its
own specific laws.)
A feeling is not an immediate object of intuition, nor can we freely
choose to repeat a feeling, as we can repeat our representation of an ob-
ject. A feeling is not a thing; it is not something we have to construe 8 or
can describe. It is a state [of the 1]. It is nothing substantial; instead, it is
an accidental property of a substance. Nevertheless, a feeling appears to
be inseparably connected with an object, and it cannot be felt without
• "Dieser soeben geschilderte Charakter des Objects mull dem zu entwerfenden Begriffe
zukommen.'" Cp. H: "so mull auch dieser Charakter derObjectivitat dem zu entwerfenden
Be~f zu kommen.''
"das begriffen wird."
6
"das was Sache des Gefiihls ist."
7
The "productive imagination"(Jwoducliw Einbildungskraft) plays a crucial role in Kant's
account of the possibility of experience. It is the active power (or ""faculty") that mediates
between and unites thought (concepts) and sensation (intuitions). See the entire "transcen-
dental deduction of the categories," especially KRV, A115-38 and B 15o-56, B 164.
8 ""kein zu construirendes.'' H: "nichts CONSTRUIRBARES" ("nothing that can be con-
strued").
being related to an object.E There must be some reason why this is so,
and it is just this connection between feelings and objects which we are
going to investigate.
{By means of the reproductive9 imagination, we are able to repeat a rep- (71)
resentation connected with a feeling that we once had, and in this way
we are also able to engender a feeling-albeit only a weaker one. Thus,
to the extent that there is a necessary connection between representa-
tion and feeling, one can start with a representation that has been freely
reproduced and proceed from there to feeling.}
etc., it is closely related to au{Jer ("outer," "outside," "beyond") and iiuPerUda ("external").
In order to "express" themselves, the l's drives must go "outside or• the I.
o-rhe ideal activity is directed at something foreign, something independent of it It ex-
presses itself for no (external) reason, but only because it lies within the nature of the I to
§ 7 191
do so. This activity expresses itself as soon as such an expression becomes possible, that
is, as soon as the real activity is limited; thus the ideal activity is alone active [in this case]
(p. 71).
12
"Die Natur des lch ist ein Trieb, wir konnen also die ideale Thatigkeit erklaren aus
einem Triebe zur REFu:xJON, auch Trieb nach einem Objecte, oder Sachtrieb." A few lines
later, Fichte uses the term der Rejlaionstrieb, here translated as "reflection drive."
" In order to distinguish this drive from others, one could call it the "ideal drive," or the
"drive of the intellect," or the "drive toward representation" (p. 71).
1
' "es schaul schlechlhin an."
14
"ein eigentliches Thun."
15
"Die~ geschieht durch Gegensatz eines nicht freien Zustandes-des Gefiihls."
192 §7
case, the principle states that feeling and intuition do not exist apart
from each other. Feeling is something real; intuition is something ideal.
8o One advantage of this is that it prevents feeling from being omitted from
the system of the human mind; instead, feeling is shown to be necessar-
ily connected with this system and to be a necessary component of the
same. Every individual point that has been established has to be inte-
grated into the whole. This is what is now occurring in the case of in-
tuition: no intuition is possible unless a feeling is posited along with it
{and vice versa}. Thus we obtain the following result:
There can be no intuition apart from feeling and no feeling apart
from intuition. They are {through the necessary opposition of freedom
and nonfreedom} synthetically united and reciprocally determinable.
An intuition is nothing unless a feeling is posited in opposition to it. The
transition from feeling to intuition {is simple and} is as follows: The ideal
activity expresses itself just as soon as it is able to do so, and whenever a
feeling is present it is able to express itself; hence it does so.
{To be sure, one can still think of a feeling apart from an intuition, for
feeling is something original, something not derived from anything else.
Ideal and real activity are joined within feeling. But there can be no con-
sciousness of a feeling without intuition; for in consciousness feeling and
intuition separate from each other. Consciousness is bound up with in- (73)
tuition, and feeling lies at the basis of intuition-or rather, feeling pre-
cedes intuition.}
(6) {We have now become acquainted with the form 19 of intuition.} What
then can be present within an intuition? What is the content 20 thereof?
No intuition is possible unless the practical activity is limited and
{thereby} separated from the ideal activity. The practical activity is, in
this case, canceled; but since this real activity also belongs to the I, the
ideal activity has to be related to an object, {for otherwise something (74)
would be missing from the I as a whole}.
16
"mu~ ich auch das lo~reijknde sein fiir mich."'
17 "Die~ ist allein Absicht des Gefiihls." This sentence makes little sense as it stands and
hence has been amended (following a suggestion by Radrizzani) by replacing the words "ist
allein" with "ist alles in." This reading, which remains conjectural, is guided by the parallel
paragraph in H, in which the phrase "in Absicht des Gefiihls" occurs twice.
18
"das Selbstgefiihl."
1 By means of ideal activity, I wrench myself away from this constrained state of feeling.
Who is the I that does this? It is the limited I, for the act of wrenching away is not possible
otherwise; and to this extent the limitation with respect to feeling is present/or me. Simi-
larly, I am also, for myself, the subject that wrenches itself away with respect to feeling.
Therefore, both the intuition and the feeling are mine-thanks to my feeling of self, through
which feeling and intuition are united; and this feeling of oneself is the C we have been
seeking (p. 73).
19
"das FoRMALE."
20
"Materie."
194 § 7
K Within intuition, I feel myself to be purely active, to the extent that the feeling of self
is related to the intuition; thus I am an active I. Now the object is added. This lies outside
of the intuition; and hence, insofar as intuition involves activity and insofar as the I is the
intuiting subject or is active, this object also lies outside of the l-and thus in the Not-I.
This Not-I, however, is merely something that limits; it is not something that is limited (p. 74).
L In intuition, the I does not go outside of itself; it itself is not intuited and does not
ap,p,ear within consciousness. It is limited, and this limitation is the object of intuition (p. 74).
1
Reading "Entgegensetzen" for "Entegegengesezte" ("what is posited in opposition").
22 "gegebensein des Stoffs."
©A Sphe\e
Thus, anything lying outside of sphere B would be the Not-I and, with
specific respect to B, would not belong to the I.}
The existence of such a narrower sphere {B} is now established. In in-
tuition, the I feels itself only as active. The I's passivity is excluded [from
the narrower sphere of the I], and, in this way, an object becomes possible.
I feel myself to be limited. I then wrench myself away from this state
of limitation. Both the act of feeling and the act of wrenching myself
away from feeling occur in the same, undivided moment. The ideal ac-
tivity cannot be limited; thus, if the real activity is limited, this leaves
only the ideal activity, and this isolated acting is an act of intuiting.
My state becomes altered by this act of wrenching away; I become free
and active, since I am in a passive state while engaged in feeling; but,
since all this passivity still remains, it becomes an object {of intuition, (7.
and indeed, [is intuited] as an immediately given object, not as one related
to the 1}. The alteration this "something" undergoes can be explained
only by my freedom in intuition. M
M The I is active in intuition and passive in feeling. When the I is considered in these two
different ways-i.e., first as passive and limited, and then again as active-then it also has
two different objects, and consequently, two different spheres. In fact, however, feeling and
intuition are synthetically united in one and the same state, and therefore they have one
and the same object: the state of limitation. Feeling and the wrenching away of the ideal
activity constitute but a single moment, for the isolated acting of the ideal activity (for this is
all that remains after it has wrenched itself away [from the passive state of feeling]) is pre-
cisely intuition. Since all that is altered by this act of wrenching away is my own state, this
196 § 7
Feeling and intuition are synthetically united with each other within
the same moment and within the same state; neither exists without the
other. From the philosophical viewpoint, the object of feeling is the same
as that of intuition. For the I itself, however, these are two different ob-
jects, because the I is here considered in two different ways: On the one
hand, it is passive, and in this case it is a feeling of limitation; on the
other hand, it is active, and what is felt in this case is the object. In short,
the intuition is the same as what is felt; but insofar as this is an object of
intuition it does not remain something merely felt, but instead becomes
something intuited, something "seen," something that is not referred to
the I-only in the concept is it once again referred to the 1.24
In this way we can also explain the synthetic unification of the pred-
icates derived from feeling with those derived from intuition-which is
otherwise inexplicable. I taste something sweet and posit the existence of
a piece of sugar, and then I say, "The sugar is sweet." A feeling is here
transferred to an object of intuition, and the two are united with each
other in the same moment. {The object is not felt to be sweet; instead,
what I actually feel to be sweet is myself. I feel that an object is present
only insofar as I am engaged in intuiting.}
In this situation, the I itself is only felt and is not intuited; therefore,
no act of intuiting appears, as such, within consciousness. In intuition,
the I loses itself in the object of intuition, or, as Kant puts it, "intuition
is blind." 25 Accordingly, in intuition something hovers immediately be-
fore me. 26 I do not ask whence it comes; the object simply happens to be
there. This is how the object appears within the act of intuiting, but this
act of intuiting does not appear {as such} within consciousness; and, for (75)
this reason, when viewed from the ordinary standpoint, the object can
be said to be immediately present. N This is the way objects originally
related to the I; the I is not conscious of its activity, but loses itself in its object (or, as Kant
says, the inluition is blind): for these reasons, the I is forced to posit something immediate,
something opposed to and independent of the I, a Not-I that is not related to the I and to
which it ascribes the character of "being."
The object of intuition is a feeling, but it is a feeling as something intuited, and not as
something related 10 the I. An intuition is simply something hovering immediately before
the I. The I does not ask whence it comes; it is simply there for the I. Its intuition does not
appear, as such, within consciousness; instead, since the I is limited in its feelings, and since
it is thereby engaged in intuiting, the object appears to it as something immediately given.
The I infers that something limiting exist.s beyond iUelf (p. 75).
n Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi (•743-181g) was a well-known novelist and essayist, as
well as the author of several profoundly original philosophical treatises, in which he at-
tacked philosophy in general and transcendental idealism in particular as "nihilism."
Against the claims of speculative philosophy, Jacobi defended the necessity of "faith" or
"belier· in every area of human life and expounded his own version of "direct realism.''
Fichte's reference is presumably w a passage on p. 51 of jacobi's 1787 "Dialogue," David
Hume ilber dm Glauben Oiler Ideali.mus und Reali.smus, in which Jacobi notes that the honest
realist bases his position upon nothing more than "the fact that things stand before
him" and adds: "Can he find a more appropriate word to express himself than the
word 'revelation'? Indeed, isn't it precisely here that one should look in order to dis-
cover the root of this word and the mgin cifils use?" Unavailable for nearly two centuries,
the first edition of this important work has recently been republished in a photo-
mechanical reprint edition with an English introduction by Hamilwn Beck (New York:
Garland, 1983).
8
" "der Urstoff."
198 § 7
At this point, we cannot characterize the intuition any further than as
follows: It is something that hovers before the I. To the extent that it can
be related to the intuiting subject, but not to the I as a whole, it is "Not-
84 I," inasmuch as it is something positive which brings activity to a halt. 29
It can be characterized as a "being," for it transforms the entire activity
of the I into ideal activity.
The object is not felt; it exists only insofar as I am engaged in intuit-
ing, and what I feel in the act of intuiting is myself.
l
else. There is nothing limiting without something limited; no being
without something that is canceled by this being.
{The intuition of a possible object is now to be posited in opposition to
this intuition of an actual one, and they will be deduced in this way. The
chief difficulty, however, lies in the fact that the proper character of in-
29
'
0
"etwas positives haltendes."
..eine in der Sache gegriindete Verbindung."
,!
?J:
~. :.
'1),_,
§ 7 199
tuition cannot be renounced in our inquiry.} Though the proper char-
acter of intuition cannot be canceled, we nevertheless have a propensity
to do just this; for intuitions are never present in ordinary conscious-
ness, within which only concepts appear. {For an intuition by itself is
nothing whatsoever; and yet intuition is here supposed to be posited
pqrely in and for itself, in accordance with its proper character, that is,
without any concept and without being posited as a determinate state of
the 1.}
What is canceled by the being of the object is not the activity of the I. _
No I is posited in intuition, {which is concerned with nothing whatsoever
but a "something," with a content apart from any subject}; the I disap-
pears into the object. Intuition is directed at an object, and thus what is
85 excluded by what exists is also an object; it is the ideal, 31 which, as such,
is the object of an intuition.
{The possibility of an intuition, or, more correctly, the intuition of a
possible object, as opposed to an actual one, occurs because the object of
an actual intuition is something that exists, 32 something that limits-or,
more precisely, it is the limited state of the I.
Something else, another object, is excluded by this [actual] object,
which therefore cannot be posited apart from something else that is can- (7
celed by the being of the actual object.}
The object of the previously described intuition [namely, an actual ob-
ject] is something that limits, a limitation of the I. But the limited con-
dition of the I cannot be posited as such, for the I itself is not present
within intuition. The object is something that simply hovers before the
intuition, a mere object without a subject. Something is supposed to be
posited in opposition to this object, something that negates it. This is
therefore an object in the fullest sense of the word, i.e., something to
which the ideal activity is related; but it must also be something that
does not exist, something that can explain striving. 0 {Such an object is
not; i.e., it is not an actual object, not an object that exists-precisely be-
cause it is posited in opposition to what exists. Such an object can be said
to exist only in relation to striving.} This {object of intuition} is the ideal.
(8) {We thus now have two types of intuition, or rather, two types of ob-
jects for intuition: (1) the object of striving, and (2) the determinate
that is canceled by the being of the actual object? This is not the I, since the I does not
appear within intuition at all and is by no means posited, but rather disappears therein.
Instead, since intuition, in accordance with its very character, is directed only upon an ob-
ject, then it follows that what is excluded by the actually existing object must also be an
object; for intuition is supposed to occur, and nothing can be opposed to this intuition but
an object, to which the ideal activity is related (p. 77).
200 § 7
object.} What then is the distinction between these two objects, the one
that explains limitation and the one that explains striving? They are sim-
ilar in that both are objects of intuition {and both acquire the character
of "objectivity"}. What distinguishes them is this: The former is a deter-
minate object; the ideal activity is here constrained in combining the
manifold. The object of striving, on the other hand, is a determinable
object; the ideal activity is here completely free to combine the manifold
in any way it wishes. The latter 33 only sets us a task, i.e., the task of pos-
iting something-and indeed, positing something in opposition to the
former object, for the I is limited by the first object. In both cases, how-
ever, the ideal activity is similarly constrained.
Without settling the question of whether the feeling of limitation is a
simple feeling or might instead be a combination of several different
feelings, it is nevertheless clear from what has already been said that ev-
ery feeling is indeed divisible with respect to its intensity 34 and that ev-
erything contained within intuition is, as it were, infinitely divisible,
though such a division is not [actually] possible in the case of an intuition
of a determinate object, for such an intuition is directed at something
given, {which cannot be freely divided, because its object-and therefore
the degree of feeling as well-is determinate}. In contrast, such division
is possible in the case of a determinable object, and it must be posited as
such, in opposition to the former object. In this latter case, {the ideal
activity is not constrained in combining the manifold, for} we are merely
assigned the task of positing something; since no content of feeling is
given, our task in this case is {only} to search for a feeling. We will see
below how a feeling can be found.
This latter intuition [the intuition of a possible object] is empty. It is a
free act of oscillating or hovering over the {infinite} manifold-a man-
86 ifold with which the I is familiar only by means of its striving. 35 It is an
intuition of the task of positing an object, {which, however, cannot be (78)
explained. It is nothing more than a link for our future series of
thoughts.}
{Similar to this is the concept of the ideal.} The concept of the ideal is an
"Idea." 36 An Idea is a concept of something that cannot be compre-
hended at all, e.g., the concept of spatial infinity. This appears to involve
a contradiction, which can be resolved as follows: No concept of the ob-
ject in question is possible {since, as soon as I try to think about it, it
becomes finite before my very eyes}; we can, however, form a concept of
' 3 Reading, with H, "letzte" forK's "erste" ("former").
""der INTENSION nach." Fichte appears to employ the terms Grade ("degree") and In-
tension ("intensity") interchangeably.
'"Reading "Streben" for K's "Schweben" ("oscillating" or "hovering"), a reading sug-
gested by the otherwise virtually identical passage in H. Without this change, the passage
would read: " ... with which the I is familiar only by means of its act of hovering."
36
"eine Idee." See n. 6 to the "First Introduction," p. 79·
§ 7 201
the rule in accordance with which a concept of this object could be pro-
duced as a result of an infinitely prolonged process of advance. E.g., in
the case of infinite space: {one can indeed begin to think about it, and it
can be expanded ever further; but one cannot think of the infinity
itself}. Every space that can be grasped is finite, and this is why we sim-
ply attend to what we would have to do if we wished to grasp an infinite
space. If we abstract from the rule in question {(or from the individual
acts of intuition)}, then we are left with nothing but the {advance, the
expansion, the} quest, and this is the object of intuition with which we
are here concerned: {the ideal}.
and that of the ideal, are necessarily united with each other; neither is
possible apart from the other.
Feeling has here been derived as the fundamental state, with which
everything else must be connected. Feeling is the first, immediate object
87 of our reflection. The I feels itself, and indeed, it feels itself as a whole;
but, as we know, the I is both practical and ideal, and it is through feeling
that the practical I and the ideal I are now first separated from each
other. The I first feels itself to be practical; in fact, this is the immediate
feeling, {the feeling x.a• 'Esox.fJv,}38 within which the feelings of limita- (79)
tion and striving are united. But the I feels itself in its entirety; thus it
also feels itself to be ideal, and, to this extent, it feels itself to be engaged
in intuiting-within which intuition, once again, limitation and striving
must be united,Q and four different elements are again present: a feel-
ing of limitation, a feeling of striving, an intuition of a determinate ob-
ject, and an intuition of the ideal. {All these are absolutely present
alongside one another and are synthetically united within the human
mind. For feeling is united with intuition: I feel myself as a whole, and
therefore it is not only my real activity that is limited; my ideal activity is
limited as well. But what is ideal is intuition. Furthermore, no feeling of
limitation is possible apart from a feeling of striving, and thus, neither
can there be any intuition of a determinate object without an intuition of
the ideal, i.e., without any relationship to our own efficacy. If activity
were not canceled or limited, then we could never perceive or intuit any
object.} These four elements are necessarily united; none of them can
exist apart from the others. Later on we will see that other elements
must be added to these.
8
' "par excellence."
Q The I also feels itself to be active idealiter, however, and, to this extent, engaged in
intuiting-within which limitation and the quest or striving for an object must be united
(p.Jg).
' Reading, with Krause's MS, "lch, selbst" for K's "lch sich."
§7 203
[ 204]
§8 205
(2) An alteration thus occurs in the state of the I. Accordingly, two dif-
8g ferent feelings, A and B, must be present (both of which are mere feel-
ings of limitation). In the previous § we found that a number of things
necessarily follow simply as a consequence of feelings as such, and thus
all these same things must here follow in consequence of feelings A and
B. Since feeling A and feeling B are different, however, their conse-
quences must also be different. 8 This opens up for us an important
prospect, one that reveals more to us concerning the inner workings of
the human mind.
{Remark: The term "feeling" is always employed here to signify the
mere feeling of determinacy; therefore, it is to be distinguished from the
feeling referred to as "X" in the previous §.}
For the time being, we will concern ourselves with the problem of how
these two different feelings are united within consciousness. This will
lead us further.
We raised a similar question in§ 6, above: How can a manifold or mul-
tiplicity of feelings be related to and distinguished from one another? In
the course of our previous discussion, we answered this question insofar
as it concerns the matter or content [of feeling], but not insofar as the
form of the same is concerned. 6 {Here we are concerned not with the
union of the two states with respect to their content, but rather with a
union with respect to their form, that is, with tJu comparison and union of (82)
tMse two states within consciousness. The question is this: To what within con-
sciousness are they supposed to be att.acMd?} In what way are these two dif-
ferent states united? When I talk about "feeling A," I make reference to
my entire state; and this is equally true of feeling B. In each case, my
own state forms a single, complete whole-though, in the one case,
feeling A is subtracted from this whole, and, in the other case, feeling B
is subtracted. This provides me with the thread to which both A and B
are attached, but to what do I attach this thread itself? We have [discov-
ered] what would bind this state fast, but not how this would be
accomplished. 7 •c
B Every alteration, however, presupposes the presence of two different feelings, A and B,
and thus presupposes the feeling of a manifold. But no feeling is anything determinate
unless some other feeling is posited in opposition to it; therefore, whenever a single feeling
is presem, a manifold is present as well. But since feelings are different, what arises out of
them (i.e., intuitions) must also be different, which is just how we described such a state in
the previous § (p. 81 ).
6
"Die~ hat die materiale Schwierigkeit gelosl, aber nicht die formale."
7
"dann habe ich einen Faden, woran ich A und B festhalte; aber woran halte ich diesen
Faden fest{?] wir haben ein un< aber kein wie, das diesen Zustand fest halt."
c We have already explained (in § 6) how it is possible to unite two different feelings-
insofar as their content is concerned. We already have the "what," but how this union oc-
curs is something that still remains to be explained (p. 82).
§8 207
(3) One should view the union in question here as a union of opposed
feelings A and B, or as a union of opposed states of the I. The entire
system of sensibility cannot be felt, for it is nothing positive, but is
merely a relationship, {a movement of transition from one [state of feel-
ing] to the other. Considered in themselves, these two states have nothing
in common with each other, for they are posited in opposition to each
other: The only thing they have in common is the I. They adjoin each
other at their boundaries, and they can do this only because they are
posited in opposition to each other, i.e., because they are [two moments
of] a single alteration.} As we have already discovered above, however, an
activity of the I can be intuited only as a movement of transition from a
determinable to a determinate state. Therefore, one could also say that
nothing pertaining to the I is intuitable except the transition [from one
of its states to another]. Consequently, this particular transition [from A
to B], which cannot be felt, since it is nothing positive, could perhaps be
intuited. We do not yet know how-or even if-such an intuition is pos-
sible, however. We know only that it cannot be felt. Nevertheless, if any
movement of transition is to be present at all, it must exist for the I.D
• Let us now, albeit in a provisional manner, make this description
somewhat more precise. Here, as above {in§ 6}, we referred to "a gen-
go eral system of sensibility as such." What is this? It is not the same thing
as the feelings themselves, for it is precisely from this system that these
feelings must be distinguished; and indeed, it is only by being distin-
guished from and related to this system that feelings first become pos-
sible for the I at all. Consequently, the system of sensibility would be
[another name for] the "alterability" or "affectability" of the l-and in-
deed, its alterability or affectability as a system, as something exhaustive
and whole, something that constrains the ideal activity {and [thus be-
comes] a possible object for it}. The system of sensibility would thus be
the sum total of all possible alterations, but only insofar as the form of
these alterations is concerned, apart from all content. {A feeling is
merely something that is felt, something that cannot be described and is
possible only through the system of sensibility. This system is originally
present for me in advance of all feelings. It is a continuously advancing
line, along which the individual feelings are connected with one another.
What then can be contained within this system of sensibility? It cannot
contain the content of sensibility, for this is nothing but alteration itself,
without any reference to the 1; 8 instead, the system of sensibility con-
tains the formal aspect of sensation, as something that limits the ideal
activity and is its object. Therefore, this system is a mere concept or Idea,
0 Therefore, this movement of transition must exist for the I, if an intuition of its own
it ion is directed at it. (The system of our alterability is our body. This is
certainly something and must be extended in space, which occurs only
by means of intuition.) Intuition X is an intuition of the I itself. The feel-
ing subject would now be identified with the system of sensibility;9 the I
endures throughout every feeling. X would be the intuition of the I,
which discovers itself as an object within this intuition. H
{Our standpoint is now that of intuition X, within which the unifica-
91 tion [of feelings A and B] occurs.} For the present, let us simply ignore
the content of this intuition and seek to determine its form, along with
whatever is connected with the latter.
awareness, and vice versa. I.e., I cannot be aware of any object or thing
( = intuition Y) without being aware of myself; but I can be aware of my-
self only by being aware of an object, because when I become aware of an
object, I become limited, and I discover myself thereby.} From this we
obtain the following synthetic principles: There can be no intuition of
the Not-I (outer intuition) without an intuition of the I (inner intuition),
and vice versa. Neither of these intuitions is possible, however, apart
from a feeling of oneself; for it is within self-feeling that these two in-
tuitions are united, and it is there that the necessary connection between
them is revealed. {That is to say, the I intuits itself as intuiting something else.}
The limitation we are now discussing is [a feeling of] being compelled
to think in a certain way, i.e., to represent something in precisely such
and such a manner and not otherwise. I cannot be aware of anything
outside of me without also being aware of myself as being aware of it.
But neither can I be aware of myself without also being aware of some-
thing outside of me, for it is [only] thereby that I am limited. No I with-
out a Not-I, and vice versa.
• The intuition of the I and the intuition of the Not-I are thus recip-
rocally related to each other; neither is possible apart from the other.
The reciprocal interaction just indicated never ceases; it is only further
determined. With this, we have now answered the question that re-
mained unanswered above: "How is the I able to feel itself in intuition?"
Answer: [It is able to do so] only to the extent that it is compelled and
limited.L
With this preliminary understanding, we are now in a position to pen-
etrate somewhat more deeply into our subject.
sense, provides the "conditions for the possibility" ofrhe former. So undersro<XI, transcen-
dental philosophy, and rhus the entire WissemchafLJlehre, is a quest for a "genedc under-
standing" of human experience i"n its entirety.
16
"wir haben sie <wiirklich> posrulierr." A study of the manuscript shows that the
questionable word in this sentence might also be deciphered as "willkiirlich," in which case
the clause would read: "we have freely postulated its occurrence."
17
udas OBJECTIVE."
18
"Es wird sich finden, dall das Ich zu diesem Anschauenden ein Sein fiir sich haben
wird."
" The ideal acriviry is now directed ar another being of the I, namely, at a being of the
intuition = Y (p. 87).
19 Reading, with H, "das SEYN des Ich in der Anschauung des Y"' for K's "das Sein im
22 "es ist etwas. Die Regrenz.theit des lch ist im Zustande A;" This sentence is defective as
it stands. The translation omits the ~im.~ Another possibility, adopted by Radrizzani in his
French version, is to omit the "ist," thus construing this passage 10 read: "is 'something,'
namely, the limitation of the I in state A."
0 The object of this intuition X would thus be what is limited in the feeling, i.e., the 1,
whose ideal activity is limited. As the object of its intuition, the 1 is, i.e., it is "something,"
and this "being" would be the being of illi state A (p. 88).
2
' "diejJ ist das Rand[,] woran das lch weiter fortgeleitet wird."
§8 217
Though a more natural rendering of this sentence would be "intuition X is nothing other
than the act of reflection deduced in the previous §," the context, as well as the parallel
passage in H, make it clear that the sense intended is the one conveyed in the translation.
25
"beweglich."
218 § 8
P But what kind of "truth" is this? Reply: We ordinarily construe our oum being aJ a thing
outside of us. From this, therefore, we obtain the principle: A certain quantum of intuition
follows from a certain determinate quantum of determinacy (p. Sg).
§8 219
become anything for the I. {The I, according to the preceding §, disap- (go)
peared in the object and was not present at all.} In order for intuition Y
to be anything for the 1, it must be reflected upon anew; the I must posit
it anew. Let us assume that this new act of reflection occurs freely.
The practical activity permits itself to be entirely suppressed, to the
point w~ere no practical activity whatsoever is left and all that remains
is a striving toward practical activity. But it is the nature of the ideal ac-
tivity to remain with me and not to be {entirely} cancelable. In {intuition}
g8 Y, the ideal activity is only supposed to be limited, but it cannot be can-
celed; accordingly, it is only partially limited and is able to wrench itself
away from this limited state. In intuition Y, the ideal activity is only par-
tially limited; it can employ its freedom to wrench itself away. We will
find out whether it absolutely must wrench itself away or not; and if it
does not have to do so, then we will discover under what conditions this
is so.Q
The I is supposed to be posited as the intuiting subject, but the I is
only what is active 26 and nothing else; accordingly, the intuition must be
posited as a product of the l's free activity, and only thereby does it be-
come such a product. {Therefore, activity is the mediating link27 be-
tween the I and the intuition.} According to the general laws of
intuition, however, activity can be posited only as a movement of tran-
sition from determinability to determinacy. "I am supposed to posit my-
self as active": this means that I have to observe my own activity. But the
latter is a movement of transition from an indeterminate to a determi-
nate state. Consequently, this intuition can be thought of as free only if
it is simultaneously posited as constrained. Freedom is {for the I} noth-
ing without constraint, and vice versa. {Only through the opposition of
freedom, therefore, is there any limitation whatsoever.} The act of
wrenching away is impossible without something from which one
wrenches oneself away. What is posited obtains its determinacy only by
means of opposition.
How then s:an freedom and limitation of the ideal activity coexist
alongside each other? In the following manner: If one reflects upon the
determinacy of the practical (real) 1, then one must also necessarily posit
Y in such and such a way {-from this precise quantum of determinacy
there follows this precise quantum of intuition}; consequently, only the
synthesis is necessary. In other words, if a particular representation is
to be "true," then 1 must represent its object in such and such a way.
But the representing subject is free to engage or not to engage in this
synthesis; and, in this respect, the representing subject is under no
R The latter, that is, the truth and accuracy of my representations, is dependent upon
the freedom of the representing subject, which, to this extent, is under no compulsion and
is not limited (p. go).
28
"Ich bin beschrankt, zuforderst praktisch."
I
29 "dadurch erhalte ich erst Haltbarkeit fiir mich." The term Hallharkeil also means "ten-
limited, and this furnishes the concept of the I;u yet neither can it com-
prehend the I as limited without positing something that limits it, and
this furnishes the concept of the Not- I.
The I is free and is nevertheless governed by laws. This is possible only
if the I freely subordinates itself to these laws. We are here concerned
only with the laws of representation.
§8
Christmas Vacation
1
Reading, with H, "das ist MEIN BEGRIFF?" for K's "alles ist mein Begriff' ("everything
is my concept").
2
"das Begreifende," i.e., the intelligent subject who grasps things by means of or in
terms of concepts.
A I feel myself compelled: I must think in a particular manner, and I cannot think at all
unless I also feel compulsion. This compulsion, however, is comprehended along with the
particular determination [of my state]. But this feeling, this limitation, cannot, by itself,
constitute my entire state; instead, my I is surely only active-for otherwise, I would be
unable to have a feeling of myself (p. 92).
' "das ideale."
[ 224]
§9 225
(A) What is determinate (i.e., that to which the transition is made) is [in
this case] the concept of a determinate thing {= Y.· for example, the wall,
the stove, etc.}. Within this concept, however, I myself am also determi-
nate, for this quantum of comprehending constitutes my state. {The de-
terminacy of the thing, in itself, is of no concern to us; it concerns me
only insofar as I also become determined thereby, i.e., only insofar as
this quantum of limitation constitutes my own state, only insofar as I
comprehend that it is my concept, through which it becomes a concept
of my own limited state.}
(B) So far we have observed the following concerning the origin of this
determinate thing, that is to say, concerning the origin of this determi-
nate act of comprehending or of my own determinacy within this act of
comprehending: I am limited {with respect to my practical power}; in-
deed, my limitation is complete. The very completeness of this limita-
tion indicates a further limitation of my state of limitation. The practical
activity is canceled entirely, but the ideal activity remains, and it is the
very essence of the ideal activity to have some object, {to be "fixed" upon
8
This material aspect is intuition Y, or the concept of the Not-1. What consciousness
feels in this case is the movement of transition from what is determinable to what is de-
terminate; i.e., I observe how I move from the possibility of engaging in many different
actions to one determinate action (p. 93).
• What is determinable in this movement of transition is the topic of § 10.
226 § 9
(C) Everything we have been talking about until now has, for the time
being, been present only for those of us engaged in philosophical in-
quiry, and, to this extent, {therefore, our account remains transcendent
and dogmatic, and-since such an account of the "I in itself' is meaning-
less-} it remains empty. If it is to be something, it must become some-
thing for the I that is the object of our inquiry. {Through an actual deed,
it must exist for the 1.} But how does anything become present for the I?
{How does the I appropriate this state to itself?} We have already an-
swered this question in the following way: It is by means of a new
feeling = X, namely, a feeling of the necessary connection between in-
tuition Y and feeling Y, 5 a feeling of intellectual compulsion, {a feeling of
one's entire state,} that something becomes present for the I {-to the
extent that the I freely surrenders itself to this feeling}. This new feel-
ing, however, is also nothing unless it is present for the I, and this entire
state is present for the I itself only insofar as it renounces any [further]
free transition [to another state].
Y, if Y is to exist for the I. But now the I posits itself either as intuiting Y
or as not intuiting Y; the I cannot do this, however, until it has intuited
the I or has obtained a representation of itself. Therefore, bath freedom
and intuition mutually condition each other. The double aspect of the Y is as
follows}: In the first instance, Y is treated as an intuition that is not sup-
posed to be an intuition; in the second, it is treated as an intuition that
is supposed to be an intuition. In the first case, Y is a thing, a thing that
is also supposed to exist in itself and apart from the I. {It does not exist
for the I; it is an intuition without consciousness. The I vanishes into the
object.} In the second case, Y is supposed to be a freely produced rep-"
resentation of this same thing.c The thing and the representation
thereof are thus one and the same-simply viewed from two different
sides. In the first case, Y is the condition for the representation; in the
second, it is the representation itself.
{In the first case, the I is not related toY,· in the second case, in con·
trast, it is. Both the thing and the representation are thereby products of
the representing subject.
This same point can also be expressed as follows: A thing is not
present for me at all unless I reflect upon it. If, however, I do reflect,
then, sheerly by virtue of this act of reflection, something determinate is
necessarily present for me; by virtue of freedom, however, this is present
for me only as something contingent-since this freedom is posited by
the I.
A thing thus presents itself to the I in two different ways:
(1) As a being that is absolutely present, something present "as such"
or "in itself," without any help from me.
(2) As a being that can either be present or not be present, and, to this
extent, it is a representation. A thing of this sort is not present without
any help from me, for it indicates the occurrence of a free act. On the
other hand, the former, that is, the thing in itself, exists without any help
from me.
Yet another way to express this is as follows: I can abstract from an
object and can think of it as not existing, but I cannot abstract from it
before it exists for me. A thing is something whose being is posited. 6 Jf
I did not exist, a world would certainly still exist; if, however, it is sup-
posed to exist for me, then I tacitly posit myself as well. Whenever I per-
ceive some thing, I myself am present as well. But when I abstract, then
I am no longer present for myself.}
Ordinary consciousness expresses this same point by saying, "The
world would certainly continue to exist even if I did not." (This is an in-
ference; and whenever I make such a claim, I tacitly posit myself as well.)
c In the second case, it appears as an actual intuition, insofar as the representation of
the same is accompanied by freedom (p. 94).
6
"Ein Gesezt seyn ist das Ding."
228 § 9
By this path, we have now arrived at the true nature of "objectivity," and
we now know why we assume the existence of things outside of ourselves.
The first [aspect of Y], in which there is no freedom present, is what we
have previously referred to as an "intuition," which, as such, is blind and
does not appear within consciousness, though it would be better to call
it a "thing," since, when one thinks of an intuition, one also thinks of
something else in connection with it, namely, the thing that is intuited.
The second [aspect of Y] is the representation of a thing. {An intuition
is therefore the thing itself. The intuition and the thing are one and
the same.}
§g
tI
I
\
l
I
!
107 § 10
{Remark: (A)} Even though a free being must produce from itself ev- (g8)
erything that is present for it, something must nevertheless necessarily
appear to such a being to be "given." What is the origin of this sem-
blance?1 It follows from the very nature of a free being {that something
must appear to it that does not appear to be produced by the free being
in question. To this extent, those who speak of something "given" are
admittedly correct; nothing rational, however, can be thought of in con-
junction with this}, for a free being {necessarily} commences with a free
acting, which is preceded by no consciousness at all. This free acting be-
comes an object of consciousness and can subsequently be viewed as a
108 product of freedom; insofar as it becomes an object of consciousness,
however, it appears to be something given, and the reason for this lies
within the character of the ideal activity, which has to be constrained by
something it has not produced. One could also express this point by not-
ing that a free being cannot act at all unless it acts upon something
(which is also a product of freedom); but because this {first act of} free-
dom, {as the foundation of all free acting,} is not itself an instance of
acting upon something, it remains in the shadows, {since the ideal ac-
tivity necessarily requires that some object be present. Consequently, we
are not conscious of this original acting, since it precedes all conscious-
ness and first makes the latter possible.} This is why an object must nec-
essarily exist for us.
• See The Distinctive Character of the Wissenschaftslehre [with respect to the
Theoretical Power], § 3. VII. 2 (Because of the changes in the present pre-
1
"so mull ihm doch etwas als nothwendig gegeben erscheinen; woher dieser Schein?" A
more literal rendering of the first clause would be: "'something must necessarily appear to
such a being to be necessarily 'given.' "
2
GEWL Though Fichte cites the first edition of the Grondrill, his original page refer-
ences have been replaced throughout by references to the edition contained in SW, 1: 329-
416 (which are also supplied in the critical edition of the text included in AA I, 3: 143-208,
and in the English version included in EPW, pp. 243-300).
[ 234]
§ 10 235
sentation, not everything that is said there is applicable here.) See too
the note on p. xx of Kant's Metaphysical First Principles ofJustice. 3
(1) The I must now intuit its own determinate act of doing something-
which is the only kind of "doing" that can occur here 5-and it must in-
tuit it as such; indeed, since this is supposed to be something that the I
does freely, it must be intuited as something the I can either do or not
do. {This determinate doing of the I is called "what is determinable."}
Determinacy has two different meanings in this context. What we are
now discussing is supposed to be "what is determinable," that is, that
109 from which a transition to what is determinate is to be made. Neverthe-
less, what is determinable is itself determinate in a certain respect: it is
an act of intuiting, and its determinacy consists in the fact that it is [at
the same time] an act of comprehending: {namely, it is determinate to
the extent that it is intuited or comprehended; for in order to be able to
intuit or to comprehend it, we have to think of it as something determi-
nate. This constitutes the determinate aspect of what is determinable.}
To begin with, let us note the following:
(A) The argument here is similar to that of the previous §; indeed, it
is only another, completely different, side of the same argument. In the
preceding § we said that the object is something upon which I am able
to reflect or not to reflect; it would, however, make no sense to say this
c In contrast, the I cannot by any means proceed in an abstract way in answering the
present question. It cannot abstract. Indeed, it still finds itself standing at the entrance to
and starting point of all comprehending (p. 99).
'"Das lch mu~ heir sein bestimmtes Thun d.h. dasjenige, was hier allein stattfinden
kann." The "determinate doing" in question is, of course, the act of intuiting described in
the previous §§. In order to maintain the contrast between das Handeln ("acting") and das
Tun, the latter is henceforth translated, not without a certain occasional awkwardness, as
"doing," or some variant thereof. ("Deed" = die Tat; "to act efficaciously" or "to have an
effect upon something" = wirken.)
§ 10 237
unless I had already posited the object-and thus reflected upon it.
Here too, {where we are concerned with a determinate acting,} the do- (10•
ing or acting6 of the I is supposed to be posited as something that can
either occur or not occur; this is not possible, however, unless "doing as
such" or or "in general" 7 has already been posited (non entis nulla sunt
prae(iicata). 8 {The I cannot say anything at all about its own acting with-
out presupposing the latter. Every predicate [e.g., the predicate "possi-
ble") presupposes some subject to which it can be applied-and, in this
case, the subject is "acting as such."~ Accordingly, we must necessarily
presuppose that the I's doing has already occurred in advance of all re-
flection upon it and appears, therefore, as something given-as we saw
to be the case with the thing in the previous §, and for the same reason.
{I cannot posit an instance of acting as "free" unless I am aware of this
very acting. This follows from the nature of my act of representing and
from the form of my sensibility.} In other words, the "doing" in question
is what is determinable, and, as such, it must be presupposed as a con-
dition for the possibility of a transition to what is determinate, insofar as
the latter is an act of freedom. 0 {Consequently, something determinable
(in opposition to the determinate aspect of what is determinable) must
be presupposed as a condition for the possibility of all possible acting,
and hence, of all consciousness as well; for before one can talk about a
possible act of doing something, "doing as such" or "in general" must al-
ready be present.} In order for what is determinable to be intuited, how-
ever, it has to be something "objective" (in the broadest sense of the
term), something that, in the act of reflecting upon the movement of
transition, has already been discovered.
(B) [This determinability,] which appears as something given and, to
this extent, independent of freedom, must be posited as, in another
sense, dependent upon freedom. Insofar as it is something that can ei-
ther be or not be, it appears to be dependent; on the other hand, insofar
as it must be posited as such or in general, it appears to be independent.
{In other words, the determinable something that is here given must
also actually be something determinable by freedom, insofar as it is
supposed to facilitate a choice or an act of determining.} It is viewed in
two different ways. Here, therefore, we discover a specific application of
the previously stated general principle: that all consciousness arises
6
"Das Thun oder Handeln.''
7
"ein Thun iiberhaupt."
8 "Nothing can be predicated of what does not exist.''
9
"das HANDELN iiberhaupt.''
0 This "doing" is what is determinable, which is intuited as such, that is, as a movement
of transition from what is determinable to what is determinate, which constitutes the act
of freedom (p. 100).
from a movement of transition from what is determinable to what is
determinate.
(C) What is determinable and what is to be determined are, however,
synthetically united within consciousness. I posit what is determinable
only insofar as I posit myself as engaged in a transition {from what is
determinable to what is determinate, that is, only insofar as I posit my-
self as free}; and I can posit myself in this way only insofar as I posit it
[i.e., what is determinable] as given. 10 • E
Nothing is given [to me] unless I exercise some effect upon it, for ev-
erything that is given to me is first given in the course of free and effi-
cacious acting; 11 but I cannot have any effect upon anything that is not
already present for me, {that is, unless I am clearly conscious that it hov-
ers before me and that I posit it as able to be or not to be}.
110 (2) Thus the proposition we have to examine here is the following: "I
intuit my own doing as something in which I can either engage or not
engage." My doing is the logical subject of the predicate "freedom."
Therefore, my doing, as such, {my "possible doing," what is deter-
minable,} is itself an object of intuition in the broadest sense of the term:
it takes on the character of an "object," inasmuch as it is something that
hovers before the ideal activity. How then will my act of doing something
appear as an object of intuition? Kant quite correctly calls a doing that
occurs, for example, in accordance with the law of causality, etc., a
"schema" 12-a term he employs in order to indicate that this is nothing
actual, but is instead something that has to be constructed by means of
ideal activity for the purpose of intuition, {as required by the laws of rea-
son. My acting is intuited as "necessary" when it is determined by the (101)
laws of reason and not by a feeling.}
A schema is merely a kind of "doing"; indeed, [it describes] what I
must necessarily do whenever I intuit anything. 13
Our question is therefore this: What is the schema of "doing as such"?
How is an act of doing something transformed into an object of intuition
{for us by the schematism? (For an object first arises through intuition.)}
10
"nur in wiefern ich es als gegeben seze." Note the significant difference between this
passage in K and the parallel passage in H (translated in n. E, below): "nur in wiefern ich
mich als das gegebene seue."
E What is given in what is determinable and what is to be determined are synthetically
united in consciousness. I posit what is given only insofar as I posit myself as engaged in
a movement of transition from what is determinable to what is determinate, that is, only
insofar as I posit myself as free; and I can posit myself as engaged in a movement of tran-
sition or as free only insofar as I posit myself as what is given (p. 100). ·· '•
11 "Es ist nichts gegeben, auser in wiefern ich darauf wirke, denn erst im freien Wirken
wird es mir gegeben."
12
See KRV. A137/B176ff.
""SCHEMA is ein blotks Thun, und zwar mein nothgwendiges Thun in der An-
schauung."
§ 10 239
Here, the object must be derived from intuition, 14 and, with this, we
reach the limit of what can be proven from concepts alone.F
Our present task is not to observe any determinate kind of "doing"
(e.g., "thinking,'' "intuiting," etc.), but rather to observe "doing as such"
{-an inner doing, this and nothing more}. What we have to do, there-
fore, is to describe an "agility," 15 which one can intuit only as a line that
I draw.G' Accordingly, inner agility is an act of drawing a line. What we
are concerned with here, however, is not any [specific] agility that actu-
ally occurs; instead, we are concerned with "agility as such" or "in gen-
eral," i.e., with a determinable but not determinate power of inner self-
activity and agility. [Even] a line of this sort, however, is determined with
respect to its direction. But the [purely determinable] power [we are now
discussing] must contain within itself every possible line; therefore, the
schema of acting {in general, as a mere power,} must be an act of drawing
lines in every possible direction. 16 This is space, and indeed, empty
space," though it is never present as such; something is always placed
therein. 1 We will soon see why this is so. Here, however, we are con-
cerned only with "doing," and pure, unalloyed doing is also something
that never appears [within consciousness].
§ IO.A
or "in general" being present for it [as well]. However, the I intuits its
sheer acting, considered as such, as an act of drawing a line, and hence
it intuits its indeterminate power to act in this way as space.
Remarks:
(1) It has been said that space is a priori. This can mean two different
things: On the one hand, it can mean that space exists only by virtue
of the laws of reason. In this sense, everything is a priori except feeling
and the predicates of the same, {since this is empirical}. On the other (102)
hand, when one says that space is a priori one can also mean that it is
something that is given in advance of all intuition, something that is
merely determinable and that first makes intuition possible. {Every con-
sciousness presupposes something determinable, and this appears to
ordinary consciousness as something given, something that precedes
all experience.}
These two meanings must surely be combined. Kant understands the
a priori character of space in the latter sense. According to him, space
precedes all experience and is the condition for the possibility of the
same. 17 {It lies within us; it is what is determinable.}
Professor Beck has recently espoused the view that space is a priori in
the former sense, 18 {namely, that space is produced by the intellect
through the laws of its reason,} which is also the view defended in the
first version of the Wissenschaftslehre.J
It is worth noting that the controversy that has recently arisen over
space is similar to the controversy concerning the nature of a thing: is it
given or is it produced? Both parties to this controversy are right. A
thing is determinable; and, to this extent, it is given. It is necessitated by
the laws of reason; and, to this extent, it is produced.
(2) {It has been said that} space is the (a priori) form of outer
intuition. 19 In our view, what is determinable in any intuition-i.e., what
is construed 20 whenever an intuition is posited-should be called the
"form" [of intuition]. Accordingly, what is determinable within outer in-
tuition would be the "form" of the same. K Whenever anything is intu-
17 For Kant's exposition of the a priori character (and hence the transcendental ideality)
of s,p;ce, see, above all, sect. 1 of the ''Transcendental Aesthetic" (KRV. A22/B37ff.).
1 See Einz.ig-miiglicher Standpuncl, p. 141. This portion of Beck's work is included in the
selection translated by di Giovanni in Between Kant and Hegel, p. 2 2 1.
1 The WisJenschaflslehre occupies a middle position between these two views (p. 102).
19 This was, of course, claimed by Kant (see, e.g., KRV. A26/B42).
20
"das was [ ... ] construirt."
K What does "form" mean? It means nothing other than what is determinable in every
intuition-to the extent that every intuition is an outer intuition or is at least ultimately
grounded in an outer intuition. Therefore, it is that through which all outer intuition is
subjectively conditioned (p. 102).
§ 10 241
ited, space is intuited. Space is what is {filled or} given shape or form in
intuition; it itself does not [actively] form anything. {(And this is the only
reasonable sense that these words can have.)}
Anything posited as something that can occur or not occur or as some-
thing that can be applied or not be applied must appear as something
given (see A, above), and it must appear in this way because, in order for
1 12 us to be able to construe anything from it, it must exist for us. This is
space.L But (according to B) it must also appear as something that is de-
terminable and dependent upon freedom, and thus space would appear
to be something that has to be united with the object and also not united
with it, for only to this extent does what is here determinable appear as
simply determinable, that is, as something dependent upon freedom. I
can posit this object in this space, and I can also not do so; I can place
this object in this space, or I can place some other object there. Freedom
of thinking and comprehending consists in just this. This "something"
[i.e., space] is simply something determinable; therefore, this synthesis
[of the object with space] must be posited as dependent upon freedom,
as something that can either occur or not occur.
To unite an object with space means to posit an object in space, or to
fill space with an object. According to C, neither of these acts is possible
apart from the other {(nothing determinate apart from something de- ( 103:
terminable, and vice versa)}. I cannot posit myself as freely filling space
unless space is present for me, and space cannot be present for me un-
less I posit myself as filling it.
{How is all this to be synthetic.ally unified?} Let us now present the
synthesis of the whole.
Our first task is to unite what was established in the pre"vious § with
what has just been established. It is not possible to reflect upon space
without {also} reflecting upon some object in space, for space is the sub-
jective condition for the possibility of an object and, {vice versa, reflec-
tion upon} space is itself conditioned by the act of reflecting upon the
object. It is not possible to reflect upon an object without also reflecting
upon space, but neither is there any space without some object; conse-
quently, they are necessarily united with each other within conscious-
ness. Originally, neither any object nor any space is given by itself;
instead, both are given to us at the same time. But an object in space is
c.alled "matter," and thus it follows that what is [truly] original is
matter.:n
If this is so, then what is presupposed {as given} is not merely the ob-
ject (as in the previous §) or space (as in the present §), but both the
object and space. Together, in a single act, they constitute what is {freely}
L The space in which the object is freely posited appears to us, however (according to A,
above), as something given (p. 102).
21
"folglich ist ursprunglich Materie.''
242 § lO
" Therefore, both space and the object are posited as given, since both acts constitute
but one and the same moment; taken together, they are but a single, determinable some-
thing, and they are necessarily united. [ ... ]
~ :. Something that fills space is called "matter." Accordingly, matter is what is freely deter-
minable in every representation, that from which the free activity of transition proceeds22
: i
(p. 103).
22
"von welcher das frey thatige ubergeht."
23 "also MATERIE konnen wir nie wegdenken von einer Vorstellung."
24
"der ganzen Korperwelt."
25
"der Geisterwelt."
§ 10 243
{I am originally limited, and from this there arises a feeling, from feel-
ing there arises intuition, and from this there arise representations of
objects external to us, representations to which objects outside of us cor- ( u
respond. These objects, however, originate only by virtue of the laws of
our reason, because, according to these same laws, objects and matter
are necessarily united with space; i.e., they fill space. Space, however, is
something purely subjective, something in us; therefore, the object too
is our product.}
The treatment of this point within the Kantian presentation is not
quite accurate, and this has given rise to a system according to which
space is indeed supposed to be a priori, whereas objects are supposed to
enter space only a posteriori. 26
Kant also affirmed that objects are in space a priori, but he reached
this conclusion indirectly, {since, in his artificially constructed system, 27
he began only with a priori concepts, and inserted the theory of space
only, so to speak, incidentally, since this has to do purely with intuitions
and not with concepts}. For him, space is a priori; it is ideal, and conse-
quently, objects must be ideal too. Kant sought to expound everything
purely through concepts, which is also why his "Transcendental Aes-
thetic" is so brief. This, however, will not do. A rational being is not
merely a comprehending subject; it is an intuiting one as welL Kant of-
fers an inductive proof of his exposition of space {as follows: Space is
something purely ideal; therefore, what is in space, that is, matter, is
ideal as well. The account of space in the Wissenschaftslehre, on the other
hand, is developed by means of deduction rather than induction.}
• Kant does not say that space is given; he says that something lies at
the basis of our sensible representations, that there are noumena. He
has not clearly explained himself on this point. He calls this [that is,
what lies at the basis of sensible representations] "something." But [in
fact] this is not something that possesses being; but rather [it is] acting.
Nor has Kant given any consideration to the schema of supersensible
thoughts. Even though one can have no knowledge of what is supersen-
sible, such thoughts are nevertheless present for us, and thus they must
surely permit of some explanation. The schema for what is supersensi-
ble is acting.
{This, therefore, would be the first synthesis connected with the fore-
going: I cannot posit objects and space as produced through freedom; I therefore
presuppose them to be given to me in advance.}
26
This is an allusion to the dogmatic "Kantians," such as Fichte's collcage C. E. Schmid
and the circle of authors associated with the Annalen tier P~ tmd .US pJU/JJsllfliWchen
G.risks, edited in Halle by L. H. Jacob. For a sustained critique of this type of so-called Kant-
ianism, see, above all, sect. 6 of Fichte's well-known "Second lnttoduction to the Wiuen-
sc~lsuhre" of '797 (SW, 1: 468fT.).
2
win seinem kiinsdichen oder aufgestellten Systeme."
244 § 10
§ 10.B
Since the positing of the object and the positing of acting are neces-
sarily united within the 1, 29 the former (the object) and the schema of
the latter [i.e., space] must necessarily be united as well. But uniting an
object with space is the same as filling space; consequently, all objects
necessarily occupy space, that is, they are materiaL The freedom of the
intellect consists in (i.e., expresses itself in) the synthesis of an object,
which is determined by the predicates of feeling, with a place in space,
which is determined by absolute spontaneity; and, in this way, space be-
comes continuous, and space, as well as matter, becomes infinitely divis-
ible. The determinacy of the latter (the intellect), without which the
former (freedom) is impossible and which is not possible without the
former, consists in this: that the object must be posited in some space or
another, 30 and that space must be filled with some sort of matter. 31
There is no space without matter, and vice versa. This is a matter of ne-
tl6 cessity; but it is a matter of freedom that this object is not situated just in
this space and that this space does not belong just to this object.
Our progress hitherto has been synthetic, for [we have been observing
how] the I itself assembles its own consciousness from all the conditions
that make its consciousness possible.
There are several methods of treating a subject synthetically:
(1) One can start with a contradiction and then simply try to resolve
this contradiction by making certain additional assumptions. This is the l '
type [of procedure] or method followed in the instructor's published
Wissenschaftslehre. It is the most difficult method of all, which is why this (108
§ lO 249
particular text was not understood by the public or even by some of
those who were present at those earlier lectures.
(2) Another method is to begin by posing for oneself a principal task,
and then to attempt to accomplish this task by introducing intermediate
principles. This is the method we have employed so far [in the present
exposition]. Our principal task was to answer the question: "How can
the I discover itself to be really active?" It was in order to accomplish this
task that we introduced the intermediate principle: "I act only insofar as
I construct for myself a concept of a goal."
(3) A third synthetic method is [to begin with something that has al-
ready been established and then] to try to clarify bit by bit what remains
indeterminate and obscure in what went before. This method occupies
an intermediate position between the previous two, for what is obscure
and indeterminate is precisely what was called "contradictory" within
the context of the first method. This third method is the one we have
especially employed in our last§, and it is the one we will employ from
now on. The aim of our investigation is to present the I as an object of
intuition; hence, by following this method, we should become better and
better acquainted with our own I.}
117 § 11
[ 2501
also supposed to be, at the same time, the source of the determination? 1
Is the rule and law supposed be, at the same time, that which is regu-
lated? This is not possible.} Since this ideal acting is supposed to be de-
terminate, it cannot itself be the source of the determination in
question. What determines this mode of acting, that through which the
intuiting subject is posited as determinate (namely, as determined to in-
tuit A), must be something that lies outside of the intuiting subject; it
must be that toward which the latter is directed.
What is self-determining and determinate is the I. The intuiting sub-
ject is supposed to be the I; but, in the act of intuiting, the intuiting sub-
ject cannot be both what determines and what is determined by this act.
On the one hand, what we are concerned with here is intuition. Intuition,
however, is, by its very nature, something constrained (since it must have
an object), and the reason for the determinateness 2 of an intuition lies in
something other than the intuition itself. In the case of an act of intu-
118 iting, there can no question of something absolute, 3 possessing its foun-
dation within itself. On the other hand, what we are concerned with here
is not intuition in general or as such; instead, we are here dealing with
a determinate intuition, one that is supposed to be objective (i.e., to cor-
respond to the truth). An intuition of this sort, however, is constrained
in every respect. Why is it that, if we wish to obtain a true representation
of an object, we must locate it precisely in this place in space and in no
other one? 8 (It can here remain undecided whether the object in ques-
tion is itself determined by another object or is the first object we posit.)
{The answer to this question is contained in what has already been ( 109)
said, and thus we will not be presenting anything new here; instead, we
will merely be analyzing what was said above and determining it further
in order to increase our knowledge.
We all claim that any actual thing occupies some determinate space.
I must posit it as being where it is. This does not depend upon my
1
"soli ~ugleich auch das BESTIMMENDE [ ••• I seyn?'"
2 "ihres Bestimmtseins."
5
"von AbsoluJsein.'"
8
I posit something in space; it is actually there. We remarked above that the freedom of
the intellect consists in this: that I am quite generally able to think of this object as being
somewhere other than where it actually is, and the possibility of think.ing of the object in
this way is the basis for the possibility of the intellect positing i1self as objectively active
when engaged in think.ing-when, that is, it does not wish to proceed in accordance with
the truth.
Here, however, we are concerned with a determinate representation of place: If my rep-
resentation is to be true, then I must represent it in this or that determinate place. There-
fore, this [determinate representation! cannot depend upon the intuition, or the ideal
activity of the I, and upon the rules of the same.
What determines the truth of this determination of the object's place? What forces and
requires me to think of this object as occupying precisely the place where I intuit it to be?
(p. IOg).
252 § II
(2) As we have seen in one of the foregoing §§,4 the foundation of all
objective thinking lies within my own state; consequently, if my thinking
of any object is to be objective, then it must refer to my own state. (To
represent something truly is to represent it in a way that serves to ex-
plain my own state.)c When we determine the place of something, we
engage in objective thinking; therefore, this determination of place
must somehow serve to explain a certain state of mine, and every de-
termination of place must originate within me.
The testimony of experience on this matter is as follows: One orders
things in space according to their lesser or greater distance from and
their situation in relation to oneself, that is, according to whether a
lesser or greater expenditure of {time and} energy would be required in
order to transport oneself to the place occupied by the object {-e.g., an
hour, a mile}. (Space can be measured only in terms of time, and vice
versa.) In addition, we also take into consideration whether the object
lies to our right or to our left, in front of us or to one side. {Conse-
quently, even the place of the heavenly regions is determined in relation
to me, as the center: the East is where I see the sun rise, etc.} We should
not count this sort of testimony of experience as a proof, however.
If all determination of place begins with me, and if all objects in space
are determined through me, then I myself, as the subject who deter-
mines the spatial position of all representations, must also be in space
prior to all representation. I must be given to myself in space.
(3) The only representations that possess reality {and objective validity} ( 110)
are those that would necessarily be produced from feelings-if, that is,
feelings possessed the power of causality {and were able to have an effect
upon the representing subject} (see above). 5 In the present case, a par-
ticular determination of a place in space is supposed to be objectively
valid. (It must be determined in a certain way, because I myself am de-
termined in a certain way, {my determination of the place of an object in
space must follow from a feeling of myself as occupying a [particular]
place}.) Consequently, I must feel myself to be in space. Space, however,
is [only] the form of intuition; it is not felt. Yet it has to be felt. Feeling
and intuition must therefore be united {within one and the same I,
which we require in order to unite intuition and feeling in one and the
119 same consciousness}; and thus there must be some third thing, which
• Sect. F of § g.
c I explain my own state to myself: i.e., I think objectively (p. 109).
• Sect. F of § 9·
§II 253
serves as middle term between the two. We are already acquainted with
something of this sort. As we saw above, 6 every particular feeling pre-
supposes a system of sensibility in general, for it is only in relation to this
system that a particular feeling first becomes a particular oneP This
system of sensibility is what is determinable as a particular [feeling], and
this particular feeling constitutes what is determinate in this case. A par-
ticular feeling, however, is a feeling of limitation, and thus the system of
sensibility is a system of limitability. 7 Limitation is nothing apart from
striving, however, and a feeling of limitation is nothing apart from a feel-
ing of striving. Accordingly, a feeling of limitability is also nothing apart
from a general feeling of striving. Something of this sort must thus be
posited if an objective act of representing is ever to occur, but this all
exists only for feeling. 8 As surely as there is supposed to be intuition,
there must be feeling {-and therefore, everything contained in feeling
must be present as well}.
The feeling subject and the intuiting I are one and the same; both
states are necessarily united. But when the I posits itself as intuiting, it
posits itself, in its entirety, as intuiting; and when it posits itself as feel-
ing, it posits itself, in its entirety, as feeling. This indivisible state of the
I thus possesses a dual nature, and this is why it presents itself under two
different aspects. The feeling of the act of feeling and the intuiting of
the act of intuiting are united. Everything depends upon this unity, and
the point of unification lies within the very nature of the l's activity.
The I cannot be ideal without also being practical, and vice versa.
Thus there arises something twofold [i.e., feeling and intuiting]. What
we are concerned with here is itself an I; 9 hence there is a feeling of feel-
ing and an intuiting of intuiting, and, {since the entire I is felt and
intuited,} we thereby obtain something fourfold, {though we are here
concerned only with the latter, that is, with intuition. The intuition of
intuition and the feeling of feeling are separate and distinct from each
other and are posited in opposition to each other, and it is only in one
and the same consciousness that they are united. The entire I is now felt
and intuited, and this gives us something fourfold: (1) a particular lim-
itation; (2) a [particular] striving; (3) the system of limitation as such; (4)
striving as such.} At the same time, we are concerned with the I as an
object of intuition. Space and matter constitute the form of intuition.
6
Sect. 6 of § 6.
0
In relation to my entire state, 1 am (again, according to what was said above) supposed
to unite two feelings and intuition; this, however, would not be possible if the system of
sensibility did not continually endure (p. 1 10).
7 ~das System der Begrenzharkeit."
8
"die$ aber ist nur fiirs Gefiihl." Cp. H: "dies alles liegt nur im Gefiihl" ("this all lies
only in feeling").
9
lbat is, feeling and intuiting are here supposed to be explicitly posited by the (ob-
served) I itself, and not merely by the philosophical observer.
254 §II
E There is no possible respect in which my striving could bring itself to a halt (p. 1 1 1 ).
I 10 "so ist es ein geschloJ3nes, begrenztes QuANTUM."
11 "artikulirt." By referring to the body as "articulated," Fichte means to emphasize its
1
caf,acity for deliberate, consciously controlled movement.
I 2 ' mein Leib, in wiefern er articulirt, nicht in wiefern er organisirt ist."
6
13
"in wiefern er Sinn ist und Organ."
I!
§II 255
(4) Intuition is now directed at an object in space, and this will provide
us with an important result: only an intuition of a determinate object
outside of me is a determinate intuition; moreover, according to our ac-
count, it is the first determinate intuition. (The intuition of myself as an
object comes only later and is based upon a free act oheflection.) Actual
consciousness begins not with us, but rather with objects.G Only later do
12 1 I intuit and obtain any consciousness of myself, and I do this by abstract-
ing from things and reflecting upon myself. {Therefore, every act of
comprehending begins with an intuition of the object and with a concept
of the same. Only in the intuition of an object do I first become an in-
tuiting subject at all and comprehend myself. Accordingly, we are not yet
concerned with the acting of my body in space; instead, we are here con-
cerned with my body only insofar as it is the means by which I feel and
intuit myself in space.}
The indeterminate but determinable state of the intellect with which
all intuition 14 begins is the intuition of an infinite space filled with mat-
ter. (At bottom, this is really an intuition of an infinite striving. It is only
the philosopher who posits the temporal priority {of this intuition of the ( 1 1
whole of infinite space}. In fact and within consciousness, this intuition
is present in all the moments of consciousness we have displayed so far
and in all those that still remain to be displayed.) 15 In this state {of in-
finite striving and intuiting} I am limited, and the sphere of space and
matter is thereby divided for me into two portions; I become something
[material] for myself, and at the same time something else outside of me
FIn intuition, the system of my limitation and my striving-in their synthetic unity, i.e.,
as a result of the limitation of my striving-becomes for me my (articulated) body (p. 1 11 ).
c Intuition is here directed upon the object, for only this is a thterminale intuition; and
indeed, it is the first determinate [intuition], since the beginning of actual consciousness
proceeds from objects, and the I loses itself in the latter (p. 1 11).
14
K: "sie"; H: "aile Anschauung."
""in der That aber und im Bewustsein kommt sie vor, im Bewustsein aller der Mo-
mente, die wir bisher aufgezeigt haben und noch aufgezeigen werden." This sentence re-
quires some modification or correction as it stands. Unfortunately, the correspondjng
passage in H ("im Bewuflseyn abet- kommt sie in synthetischer Vereinigung vor") provides
little help. The basic idea here seems to be, as Radrizzani points out, that the intuition of
infinite space accompanies and is "synthetically united with" every moment of actual con-
sciousness.
(the remaining matter)H also comes into being for me. Since I myself am
limited, my intuition of myself is also limited.
• This intuition of myself is the portion that determines the whole
(and what is determined thereby is the intuition of objects in space and
the position of the same), and thus every determination of space begins
with a determination of myself within space. I occupy the absolute
place; the space I occupy is directly [determined]; all the rest of space is
[determined] only indirectly. I intuit myself not as an object of intuition,
but rather as engaged in feeling; and as surely as I intuit myself at all, I
fall into space, though I do not notice this. All my intuiting of objects is
guided and determined by my own being in space-which appears to me
as something felt. 1
One originally determines the place of a thing in space by judging this
for oneself, that is, by making an estimate of its position, or "eyeballing"
it. 16 The standard of measure one applies in this case lies immediately
within the eye: I apprehend a larger and a smaller portion of space and
measure the former by the latter; i.e., I calculate the quantum of "see-
ing" needed to reach this place or that; {through my seeing, I "pull"
space into myself}.
But does seeing possess quantity? Is not seeing, considered as the ex-
ternal schema of inner ideality,J something absolute, {and, if this is so,
then would [not] the objects have to pile up on top of-and collapse
into-one another}? This is indeed true; what is involved in spatial de-
termination, however, is not simply pure seeing, but instead, {it is united
with} the {inner} intuition of a line that I have to draw in order to reach
the place in question. I describe this line as follows: I appraise my striv-
ing; that is to say, I estimate how much energy {and time} I would have
122 to expend, how many steps I would have to take beyond the place where
I am, in order to reach the place occupied by a certain object. (The first
standard of measure is unquestionably the step or pace-assuming, that
is, that with every step I take I abandon my former place completely and
enter an entirely new one.) {My striving is here the standard of measure,
and the place where I stand is the terminus a quo. 11 This procedure of
H I thereby become something for myself, and something comes into being outside of
me, namely, the rest of nature (p. 112).
1 I posit myself not as an object of intuition, however, but as the subject who is active
therein. The intuition of myself thus appears as a mere feeling, as what makes [the intu-
ition] necessary, as the determining portion, whereas the intuition of the object appears as
the determinate portion [of the entire sphere of space and matter]. Consequently, all de-
termination of space originates with the determination of myself in space-and vice versa.
1 first intuit the object, but in this intuition I must appear to myself as the intuiting subject;
I intuit myself only as the feeling subject, however, and I thereby fall into space for myself
(p. 112).
16
"nach Gutdiinken, oder wie man sich ausdriickt nach dem AugenmaJk."
J To be sure, seeing is something absolute, the outer schema of inner activity (p. 1 12).
17
"starting point."
§II 257
§11
Every object obtains its place in space from its relation to the repre-
senting subject, and, apart from this relationship, no determination of
place is possible. Anything that is supposed to determine the position of
another thing in space, however, must itself be in space. Accordingly, a
rationa1 being posits itself in space as a practically striving being. This
internally 18 felt striving, which obtains the form of intuition through the
act of intuiting the object (an act that is necessarily united with feeling),
is the original and immediate standard of measure for every determi-
nation of place. It is not possible to posit anything in space without also
discovering oneself to be in space, but one cannot discover that one is in
space unless one posits an object in space.
18
Though Krause's MS has "neuerlich" ("recent") here, both H and the summary of the
dictata at the beginning of K have "innerlich," which is surely the correct reading.
122 § 12
(1) The representation {[or] concept} of force can be derived only from
our consciousness of willing and of the causal power2 that is united with
willing. Hence the first question we must answer here is the following:
What precisely is it that we discover when we discover ourselves to be
engaged in willing and when we ascribe to this willing the power of ex-
ercising causality 2 within the sensible world? This is something that can-
not be derived from concepts alone; {it has to be demonstrated within
1 "dieVorstellung von Kraft."
2
"Causalitiit" in both instances. Here, as before, Fichte uses this term to designate not so
much the relationship between two things or events ("cause and effect") as the causal power
of an agent, that is, its capacity to effect a change in something else. Hence it is often ren-
dered here as "power of causality."
§ 12 259
intuition}. Willing is something immediate and original, which cannot
be derived from anything higher.A One has to reproduce for oneself
willing as such, along with the form of the same, and one must observe
oneself while thus engaged in willing. {Simply will something and ob-
serve how you do this. But this command presupposes the following.} To
begin with:
{(A)} Let one think of oneself as a deliberating subject: Shall I do this
or shall I do that? Or shall I, instead, do some third thing? While delib-
erating in this manner, the actions I am considering appear, within the
representation, to be quite determinate. I think of these as possible ac-
tions, that is, as actions dependent upon my decision-but cmly as possible
ones. B So long as I am engaged in deliberating, the concept of action con-
tinues to oscillate between several different [possible] actions and is not
yet fixed upon any specific one of them, {since the opposite action has
not yet been renounced. Thus, so long as we have not yet made up our ( 1 14)
minds, the concept of acting appears to us in this oscillation.}
Let one now cease to deliberate, and instead, come to a decision: {The
concept of our acting now appears to us as something that is the sole
thing that should occur.} What has been willed now appears to be the
sole thing that ought to be done, and willing itself now appears as a cat-
egorical demand, an absolute postulate of actuality. {(One should not yet
think here of the categorical imperative.)} Deliberation concerns noth-
ing but possibility; willing is supposed to bring into being for the first
time something new, something that is not yet present. {What is willed is
present as something actually demanded; it is a demand placed upon
actuality.} Yet this same thing has already become present idealiter; for, in
deliberating, I have already confronted my willing with the various
events that could possibly ensue-but I have considered them only
problematically. Therefore, this new thing [that is supposed to come
into being as a result of my willing] can be described as something that
124 has now, for the first time, been "released," for it continued to be held
back while I was deliberating. Consequently, willing appears as a process
of emerging {from a self-imposed limitation of the power of willing, a
limitation from which one is released through willing and which is can-
celed by directing the will upon something determinate,} and as a pro-
cess of voluntary limitation, inasmuch as one focuses one's will upon a
single new object. In deliberating, our striving is dispersed and is, to this
extent, not an act of willing. It is only when this dispersed striving is con-
centrated upon a single point that it is called "willing." This conclusion
follows from our previously stated principle: that the I discovers itself
{and becomes conscious of itself only} in a movement of transition from
indeterminacy to determinacy, and only in the course of such a transi-
tion can one become conscious of one's own willing. {This act of concen-
tration is the point where the movement of transition occurs. 3 We are
conscious of our own willing only insofar as we are engaged in such an
act of concentration.
In what manner do we become conscious of our own will?-with re-
spect, that is, to the form of the same; for hitherto we have considered
only the material of the will.}
Deliberating and {determinate} willing are nothing but {determinate}
acts of thinking: the first, a problematic; the second, a categorical one.
But everything in the l-and thus its willing as well-must be posited
by the I. {Therefore, no act of thinking is present in the I unless it posits
j,
this act of thinking.} Accordingly, we possess an immediate conscious- t
ness of the specific act of thinking we call "an act of willing." I will
something only insofar as I think of myself as a willing subject; and I
think of myself as willing only insofar as I will something.c These are
inseparably linked. The will is something absolutely primary,O some-
thing that, with respect to its form, is not conditioned by anything else.
{Subject and object are here one and the same. In this case, there is no ( 115)
object hovering before the subject (as in outer intuition). The wiii has
no schema, for the act of willing is not separated within consciousness
from the act of thinking of willing. In contrast, whenever I entertain a
representation of an object, I introduce a distinction between the rep-
resented object amt myself as the representing subject; in willing, how-
ever, I am one: the subject that thinks of itself as willing, as well as the
willing subject.} Willing is like feeling, before which, because it is some-
thing {absolute and} immediate, there also hovers nothing that might be
abstracted from the act itself. {Something immediate of this sort is
needed in order to derive therefrom what is mediated. Willing is there-
fore what is highest and original. Nothing exists if I do not think of my-
self as willing.}
This immediate concept of willinlf serves as the foundation for a sys-
tem of those concepts Kant calls "noumena" and through which he es-
tablishes a system of the intelligible world, 4 {though Kant did not
1
Expressed in an image: in willing, a person contract.s his entire being into a single
point, and everything else, everything outoide of this point, no longer exim for the whole
person (p. u7).
The object of willing is a determinate series of acting and sensing. "I
will something": this means that the present state of my feelings, or the
object that is presently in a certain condition, ought to become other
than it is.
There is no gap, however, between moment A and moment B.J There
must be a gradual transition from the one to the other, since otherwise
the unity of consciousness would not be preserved and I would cease to
be the same I.
When we will something, we turn our thoughts in a specific direction
and focus all our thinking in this direction, from which the imagination
is not allowed to deviate. Our thoughts also have a certain direction
when we wish for something, but in this case our imagination is allowed
to deviate from the course selected {and is free to detach links from this (118)
chain or to skip over them}.
The particular concept of energy or force that is united with the will
is derived from this act of compelling and forcing the imagination to
proceed only in a certain direction. It is impossible to imagine a will
without at the same time imagining some impulse, some application of
power. tS,K Willing is genuine inner efficacy, an act of affecting oneself. 16
In an act of willing, I seize control of my wandering thoughts and re-
strict them to a single point.
This representation of inner, efficacious acting appears within con-
127 sciousness as something that hovers between feeling and thinking. L It is
what one might call an "intelligible feeling." {It is not a feeling in the
proper sense of the word, because it does not involve any limitation, but
rather the opposite: it is an act of breaking down the limitations that
arise in the course of deliberation, limitations that are now overcome by
resolve. This is an intelligible feeling, however, inasmuch as} the imagi-
nation, left to its own devices, wanders, and an inner exertion of energy
is required in order to constrain it. By constraining my own imagination
in this way, I become immediately conscious of this act, of this constrain-
ing; and this is how the intelligible world is connected with the world of
1 Everything willed involves a continuous, determinate series of acting and feeling. It
involves a transition from one state of feeling to another; or (to express the same point
with respect to the intuition of an object) this object should no longer remain, but, rather,
another one ought to take its place. The thing ought to become other than it is. There can
be no gap, no hiatus, contained in any act of willing; instead, willing is a continuous series
in a specific direction (pp. 1 •7-•8).
15 "ohne sich zugleich einen AnstojJ, eine Anwendung von Gewalt zu den ken."
K From this act of compelling the imagination not to wander there arises the concept of
"force"-the energy to do something-an application of power, an impact (p. 118).
16 "Das Wollen ist wahres inneres Wirken, Wirken auf sich selbst."
L We have no specific term to designate this inner, efficacious acting. It oscillates be-
tween representation and feeling, and is neither completely one nor completely the other
(p. 118).
appearances.M {I limit myself in a certain direction: this would be [an
expression of] the pure force of the intellect, insofar as the intellect concen-
trates itself by this act of willing; consequently, this act of focusing myself
upon a single point produces a feeling of force.} This feeling marks the
first appearance of inner force; 17 [hence] one might call what appears
within this feeling "pure force," or "force applied to itself." It is an effect
a rational being exercises upon itself. 18
Remark [ 1]: Concerning the theoretical and practical points of view:
{As a human being, I can consider myself from two different points of
view: from the theoretical and from the practical viewpoint.} The
former consists in freedom of thinking, which, however, is not a lawless
freedom, but is, rather, one that proceeds in accordance with rules. This
sort of freedom, however, does not apply to acting; for in the case of act-
ing {there is no choice of a direction and no comparison is possible;
instead,} the will is focused upon a single object. {Life is based upon the
practical point of view, and proceeds from genuine willing. 19 This prac-
tical viewpoint, this genuine willing, is more important.} The best way to
avoid confusing these two points of view is to take one's stand securely
upon the practical viewpoint: really learn how to will. If one is a spec-
ulative thinker, then one will also have a secure grip upon the theoretical
point of view.
Remark 2: Kant once said that it may seem odd to say that a rational
being affects itself. 20 But there no longer appears to be anything odd
about this once one has become adequately acquainted with the nature
of reason, the very essence of which is to act upon itself. A more appro-
priate question would be to ask how this act of self-affection appears
within consciousness. An act of this sort is confronted by some resis-
tance, which has to be overcome; [therefore] this expression [of the act
of self-affection] is called "feeling."
(3) Let us assume that this will possesses causal power, i.e., that what one
wills is supposed to appear immediately within experience. (We are not
yet prepared to consider the origin of this assumed harmony, by means
of which, through an act of willing, something corresponding to the
same is supposed to occur within experience. Here we are considering
" In this way, the outer world can be connected with the inner one (p. 1 18).
17 "was in diesem Gefuhle vorkommt, ist die erste innere Kraft." Literally: "What ap-
only the representation of causal power, along with the manifold that
appears within this representation.)
{What is involved in this "causality"?}
The state of my feelings alters when I perceive an instance of causal-
ity; this is a continuous movement from A to B, which includes no gap or
hiatus. {The I advances continuously through a series of feelings, from
the state with which it begins, as soon as it wills anything, to the state ( 1 19)
128 that it wills.} If I think of the entire aggregate of {my} feelings as a line,
then I will discover along this line no two contiguous points that would
be entirely opposed to each other, {since this is supposed to be a contin-
uous series}. {How then is a manifold possible?}
• If, however, I were to remove any two segments from this line, these
would always be entirely opposed to each other. 21 For example, the
state of feeling in consequence of which I am forced to assume that A is
unhewn marble undergoes a particular alteration, and, in consequence
of [this new] feeling, I am forced to assume that A is a statue. This ap-
pears to be incomprehensible. What is involved here, however, is not a
matter of comprehending (of thinking) at all; instead, it is a matter of
intuiting, and occurs only through a particular operation of the imagi-
nation (with which we will become acquainted in the course of our de-
duction of time). The advance [from one feeling to the next] must be
continuous, for otherwise the unity of consciousness would be de-
stroyed; therefore, consciousness remains, because consciousness is a
unity. 22 Nevertheless, the various individual feelings are, as such, pos-
ited in opposition to one another, and thus several different feelings can-
not occur, in one and the same respect, within a single act of feeling.
How then is this manifold {of op~osed feelings} supposed to be unified
within causality?N We said above ~that the various feelings must be re-
lated to a power of feeling, 24 which endures and remains the same
throughout the various states. We will again encounter a similar answer
here, but in a more specific form than before; and this will explain how
21
"so sind diese im ganzen immer entgegengesezt."
22
"und sonach bliebe <das> Bewustsein, weil das Bewustsein Einheit ist." Radrizzani
suggests that there may be a lacuna in the first clause, and proposes to emend this passage
to read, "for otherwise the unity of consciousness would be destroyed, and consciousness
itself along with it, because consciousness is a unity."
N But these various [feelings] must be again related to one another; for otherwise, the
unity of consciousness would suffer and would not be possible, since feelings posited in
opposition to one another cannot occur [simultaneously] within one and the same I. How
then are these opposed feelings supposed to be united and compared with one another?
I.e., how can an entire series of feelings be considered as one, as a continuous flow and
prop:ession from A to B? (p. 119).
2 See sect. 4 of § 8.
24
"ein in beiden Zustiinden fortdauerendes Gefiihlsvermogen." As with all the other
"powers" of the I, the term GefUhlsvennOgen ("power of feeling") designates the ability or
capacity of the I to do something or to be affected in a certain manner: in this case, to
"feel" or to be aware of feelings.
we are able to unify our manifold representations in time and why we
consider ourselves to be the same sensing subject throughout aJI the
changes in sensation. The manifold, however, is not simply supposed to
be unified within consciousness in some general way {by the intuiting
subject (as occurred above)}; but rather it is also to be thought of as the
effect of a single, undivided determination {[or] efficacy} of the will;
{i.e., this manifold is supposed to be taken to be a product of the I and
is supposed to be related to its will in such a way that precisely this man-
ifold and no other one should result from willing}--for only if we think
of the manifold as unified in this way are we able to think of the will as
exercising causality.
The required unification is possible only if each individual member of
the entire aggregate [of feelings] is considered to be conditioned by a
certain other member, at the same time that it itself conditions a certain
third one. Every possible Bone grasps must be viewed as conditioned by
some A. (Conversely, A might well exist even if B did not; forB does not
condition A in tum. B is related to some C in the same way that A is re-
lated to B, etc.) B, therefore, must also be viewed as the condition for
something else = C. B must be viewed as something that could not exist
unless it were preceded by a certain A, etc. {In this way, the manifold
becomes a series, and} the relationship between these various moments
is one of dependence; accordingly, the relationship between the various
feelings that make up the manifold of feeling is one of dependence, and
only by virtue of this does this manifold become a series. The best illus-
129 tration of this is provided by the movement {in a particular direction} of
a body in space.
{In a relationship of dependence, however, every individual member is
merely possible and none is necessary, except the first one. Every suc-
cessive moment is therefore conditioned [by this relationship], but is not
determined [by it].} Let us assume that a body is at point A and that I
move it to point B. It would not be at point B if it had not been at point
A; but this is not to say that it necessarily had to move from A to B. Every
preceding member is related to the ones that follow in the same way that
what is determinable is related to what is conditioned (or determined),
and not in the way that what determines something is related to wlw.t is
determined [thereby]. {More specifically, what is determinable is a possible
manifold, from which a single member is selected; this member, how-
ever, is not produced by the one that precedes. It is not claimed or spec-
ified that the member that [actually] follows the first is the only one
possible; instead, it is merely conditioned. What is claimed is this: if this
[that is, the second member in the series] is to be possible, then the first
must be actual.} A considerable number of movements can occur after A,
and this entire manifold is conditioned by A. If the object is at point A,
l can then move it from A to any other possible point; if, however, it is
268 § 12
s From lhis lhere arises lhe cominuily of lime or of lhe lemporal series: lemporal suc-
cession.
Thus il is lhanks lo a conlinued and repealed will lhal lhe conlinuous line is divided
(p. 120).
31 "ruckweise."
'""Meine Krafl [ ... ] wird dadurch elwas beschrankles in der Anschauung."
energy is also like this; but I cannot even think of a genuine act of willing
unless it actually occurs.
What then, in truth, is sensible energy, in relationship to our
thinking?}
In relationship to our thinking, sensible energy is, to begin with, a
concept, though not one that arises from an intuition of an object; in-
stead, it is a concept that arises when I think about the manifold [of feel-
ings] as bound together in a certain way. Energy or force is thus a
synthetic concept; it is not intuited, but rather it is thought. I acquire
this concept of force or energy when I combine the manifold of feeling
that is supposed to come into being as a consequence of willing.
This concept is neither purely sensible nor purely intelligible, but par-
tially both. The content (i.e., the specific determination of the will) is
intelligible; the form in which this determination of my will occurs (i.e.,
time) is sensible.T The concept of force is {the mediating concept,} the
bridge between the intelligible world and the sensible world, and it is by
means of this concept that the I goes outside of itself and makes the
transition to a sensible world. 3 ~.u By means of this concept, the I rep-
resents itself to itself as an object and connects its own consciousness to
an objective world. In this way, I become an object for myself, an object
ofperception,34 and a sensible world is connected for me with this object
that I become. Every view of the world begins with a view of myself as an
object. The error committed by all previous philosophers is that they
have viewed this knowledge [of myself, that is, of my own force] as some-
thing supersensible, despite the fact that all our consciousness begins
with a consciousness of what is actual.
{The will is absolute and intelligible; but, inasmuch as it is extended over
the manifold of feeling, its form is sensible.}
Kant classifies this concept of force as a noumenon; 35 and this is en-
tirely appropriate,_ for it does not signify any object of outer intuition,
but is, instead, a {mere} concept, that is, something produced exclusively
by thinking. Nor, according to Kant, does this concept belong within the
intelligible world, for, {according to him,} the intelligible world includes ( 1 22)
nothing but freedom. This is correct, but Kant's remarks on this topic
are insufficiently precise.
TThe form of energy or force is time. My willing is repeatedly extended across the man-
ifold (p. 12 1).
33
"zu einer Sinnenwelt iibergeht."
u It is by means of this concept that the I goes outside of itself, inasmuch as it connects
a world to its self-consciousness (p. 1 2 1 ).
'1-4 "so werde ich mir zu einem Objecte, zu einem Gegenstande der Wahrnehmung."
30
See Critiqu4 of Practical &ascm, Pt. I, Bk. I, Chap. I, § ii (KGS, V: 55-56), and § 88 of
the Critique ofJudgment (KGS, V: 453-54). See too KRV, A821B108, where Kraft is induded
among the other "pure but derivative" concepts, which Kant calls "the predicables of the
pure understanding." ·
According to Fichte, there are three types of concepts:
(A) Concepts of sensible intuitions. {A concept of this sort is based
upon sensible acting.}
132 (B) Intelligible concepts (the [concept of the] will alone).
(C) Concepts that occupy a middle position between these two ex-
tremes. ({For example,} the concept of force.) {Force is nothing that can
be felt; but neither is it anything supersensible (like the will), for it is pre-
cisely by means of force that I come into contact with bodies in the sen-
sible world. Force thus involves a combination of what is sensible and
what is intelligible.}
Kant identifies B and C, because he fails to provide a precise state-
ment of the difference between the sensible world and the intelligible
world. 36
134 (5) We have seen that physical force, along with everything that condi-
tions it and is conditioned by it, is posited only in consequence of a feel-
ing. Thus, it can appear to us only in the course of real acting.
Whenever we estimate the spatial position of something, the concept
of physical force is always presupposed, and we obtain this concept only
insofar as our will is supposed to exercise causality-i.e., only insofar as
one actually does act.
The advance {of physical force} lOward a goal is called "acting." Acting
appears-i.e., it is what it is-only in the form of intuition we have in-
dicated [i.e., in time]. {Does this mean that this force is nothing
intelligible?}
If one wants to call what is intelligible the "in itself," then what has just
been said does not apply to it. (The only thing that is intelligible is our
self-determination, which involves no temporal sequence, because it in-
cludes no manifold that could be successive.) "In ourselves," we neither
41
"das fortschreiten."
<i "Spriinge, HIATOS."
§ 12 275
act nor exist within time, for the will is nothing manifold. I am sensuous,
however, and must proceed in accordance with the laws of intuition; con-
sequently, not much can be made of what is merely intelligible.x
Physical force exists for us only in consequence of an instance of phys-
ical acting. Things are supposed to obtain their spatial order as a con-
sequence of the concept of our own physical force, however, {since the
concept of force or energy arises for us only through acting}; and from
this it follows that the act of ordering things in space, and therefore
(since we have shown the latter to be a condition for the possibility of
consciousness) all consciousness, is possible only within [the context of]
consciousness of an actual experience of actual acting. 43 (All abstraction
refers to experience and is nothing whatsoever apart from experience.)
§ 12
x It only seems this way to us [that force is nothing intelligible and is present for us only
in the form of temporal succession], and this is entirely a consequence of the laws of in-
tuition; in itself it is not like this. We cannot content ourselves with what is merely intelli-
gible-with what is not in time at all and is not manifold. Nothing but our own will is like
this (p. 1 23).
45 K: "sonach ist [ ... ] alles Bewustsein nur moglich im Bewustsein der wirklichen Er-
fahrung des wirklichen Handelns." Cp. H: "sonach auch das Bewu!Jtseyn ist nur zufolge
einer solchen REELEN Wirksamkeit moglich" ("thus it also follows that consciousness is pos-
sible only in consequence of such real efficacy").
44
"UNSER STREBEN, ODER UNSER PRACTISCHES Handelen." Cp. H: "Unser Streben oder
unsere Kraftanstrengung" ("Our striving, or our exertion of force"). The version of this
dictal at the end of sect. 3 in K also has Kraftanstrengung instead of frraclisches Handeln.
H "die [ ... ] Wirksamkeit des Wollens." Both H and the version of this summary para-
graph which appears at the end of sect. 3 in K have, instead of "das Wollens" ("willing"),
"des Willens" ("the will").
46
"Aeuflere oder physische Kraft ist eben diese Energie." This is the sole occurrence of
the term Energie in K. Elsewhere, the term translated as "energy" (or "force") is always
KraJt.
4
"das Mannifgaltige des durch die CAUSAUTAET des Wollens bestimmten Gehiihlsver-
mogens in das Verhiiltni!J der DEPENDENZ gebracht wird." Instead of Wollens and gebracht,
both H and the earlier version of this dictal in K have "durch die CAUSAUTAT des Willens
[ ... ] gedacht wird" ("the manifold of the power of feeling, as determined by the causality
of the will, is thought as [ ... ]).
assimilated to the unity of consciousness. A physical force of this sort,
however, can be posited only in [the context of] some real efficacy, from
which it follows that any determination of the place of things-and
thus consciousness itself-is possible only in consequence of some real
efficacy.
§ 13
l 277 I
inferred from what Kant says, 2 and it is made explicit by Reinhold, who
also recognizes two different spaces. 3 } We will have to examine this sub-
ject very carefully in order to avoic:1 [positing] these two different times.
{In order to protect ourselves against a double time of this soFt, we
add the following remarks:}
I am limited in an overall way; such limitation constitutes my very es-
sence (my single and indivisible state for all eternity-where "eternity"
signifies the negation of time), and one may not ask any further ques-
tions concerning this limitation; this is my original limitation. {This lim-
itation marks and constitutes the limit of reason; for it is precisely our
reason itself that asks questions, but reason comes into being only by
means of this very limitation. Therefore, so long as one expects a ratio-
nal answer, one cannot ask any questions concerning this limitation.}
• What we were 4 just discussing, however, is an alteration that occurs
in this [original] state of limitation. I am limited in my ability to grasp5
my own state, inasmuch as I am able to grasp only discrete quanta, and
this limitation too is one concerning which no further questions can be
asked: for example, I can grasp things only through five senses, and
each of my senses can grasp only what pertains to it. {Here once again,
reason comes to an end. For example, I can only taste sweetness; I can-
not at the same time hear it, nor can I simultaneously taste what is
rough. In other words, I grasp only certain quanta. I cannot feel what is
feelable "as such" or "in general," but only in part. I feel what is rough
only as something rough, not as something "feelable in general." 6} This
is the limitation I encounter in grasping my own state. (My conscious-
ness as a whole is something that comes into being only gradually and bit
136 by bit, through a process of addition; it is merely an analysis of what is-
just as surely as I exist at all-already present.) (Whenever we are simply
unable to grasp something, this provokes astonishment, which is the ba-
sis of the sublime.)
The reason why I can grasp only discrete quantities lies entirely within
me. {Original limitation is present only insofar as I grasp these discrete
2 See the discussion of the two orders of temporal succession in the Second "Analogy of
basis of all change. But the concept of time also has another feature:
namely, that one must think of time as several united moments. 7
An I of precisely this sort, one that does not think of itself as a unity,
but is able to think of itself only as thinking X, Y, Z, etc., is that of the
[so-called] Kantians. To be sure, they talk about the unity of the I, but
they never establish the foundation of this unity. Before I can combine
anything, I must already possess a pattern for this combination; unity
must already be present.}
In order for this manifold to appear to thinking as a series, one and
the same thing must be completely united with each of the manifold acts
of thinking, and this must occur throughout all thinking. This same uni-
tary thing must be present within every act of thinking, {and it must ap-
pear as the same in every act of thinking,} for otherwise, no thinking
whatsoever would be possible. The "one thing" in question is the intel-
lectual intuition of willing, described in the previous §. This intuition is
repeated over and over again throughout all discursive thinking and is
what is thought of in every moment of the same. (This provides the basis
for an account of memory.)
{I relate every [element of the] manifold to my willing, and in this (126) ~
way the manifold is supposed to be present [for me]. In the case of every
[element of the] manifold, I must posit this act of willing as one and
the same act, since nothing manifold becomes present for me except in-
sofar as it is posited through willing. Through such discursive thinking,
this act of willing becomes enduring, and a time thereby arises for us,
despite the fact that my act of willing does not occur in any time, since
it is not conditioned by anything.} I observe myself within time, 8 but
I am not in time, insofar as I intuit myself intellectualiter, 9 that is, as
self-determining.
In fact, there is but one intellectual intuition, and it does not occur in
any time at all. {Now [this intuition] is thought.} Only through discursive
thinking does this single intellectual intuition become divided and
present within time. No time-no before or after-is involved in my in-
tuition of myself as a willing subject. Only what is conditioned occurs
within time, but my willing is not conditioned by anything at all.
All thinking occurs within time, and the intuition of the will endures
through every act of thinking. This is an inadequate way of expressing
the point, which might be put as follows: insofar as I relate this
{intellectual} intuition to the manifold of willing, this intuition becomes
enduring,A {but this is always the same intuition, simply repeated}. It is
7
"als rnehrere MoMENTE in ElNEM."
8
"lch sehe mich seli>St in die Zeit hinein."
9
"intellectually." Cp. idt:al.iler and rea/iter.
A Only insofar as this intuition or willing is related to the manifold acts of thinking does
the former become something enduring (p. 1 26).
only in this sense that time can be called the "form of intuition." Time is
the form of intellectual intuition; but as soon as intellectual intuition is
assimilated to this temporal form, it is "sensibilized" (that is, it becomes
sensible). 10
{My will possesses causal power: this produces feelings, which can be
grasped only discretely. But all these feelings are supposed to be grasped
as results of my willing, and therefore my own act of willing must be
added to or posited in conjunction with every [element ofthe] manifold.
A'i a result of this repeated positing, my act of willing is extended
throughout the entire series of the manifold. This, however, is only a sin-
gle act of willing, and this is what furnishes the series with unity, from
which unity there arises time.
But my willing is intuited only insofar as an action is extended
throughout this series. Of course, the intuition we are concerned with
here is an intellectual intuition; consequendy, this series (i.e., time) con-
stitutes the form of this intellectual intuition, which becomes sensible or
objective by means of this extension.
To be sure, what becomes objective in this way is not thinking itself,
but rather the object of thinking. Indeed, this is the distinguishing fea-
ture of what is sensible: that it is different from thinking and intuiting-
it is the object of the same.}
• Time is therefore the mediating link between what is intelligible and
·37 what is sensible. Hence there are three types of intuition:
(A) Sensible intuition in space.
(B) Intelligible intuition of our own willing.
(C) A type of intuition in which A and B are united: the intuition of
our willing in time.
{Remarks;}
[ 1] We can now see more clearly what we are really claiming when we
assert the existence of intellectual intuition. We are not claiming that
any person could possess only an intellectual intuition. 11 •8 Human be-
ings, along with all other finite, rational creatures, are sensuous, tem-
poral beings. Intellectual intuition {is not an actual intuition at all;
instead, it} is what is determinable in every act of thinking, and it must
be thought of as the foundation of all thinking. It can be isolated only by
10 "versinnlicht wird." The adjective wrsinnliehl and the verb versinnlidlen (which were
introduced in the previous §) occur frequently in the text from now on. The verb means
"to render perceptible or tangible" or "to materialize." In the WLnm, these terms assume
a quasi-technical sense and are used to designate the absolutely crucial (albeit still obscure)
process by means of which what is intelligible becomes something empirical or sensible (an
object of sensible intuition). In a sense, therefore, the rest of the Wlnm can be considered
an exhaustive account of what is involved in this process of Vminnliehung.
11
"es konne ein Mensch blo~ in der intellectuellen Anschauung sein." Literally: "that a
human being could exist solely within intellectual intuition."
8
It is not, however, claimed that "intellectual intuition" exists as an isolated act of the
mind, something human beings could be capable of by itself and in isolation (p. 1 ~6).
the philosopher, but not within ordinary consciousness. {Consequently, ( 127)
we are acquainted with it only indirectly; it is never encountered by itself
within ordinary consciousness. 12}
[2] What does "thinking" mean? Or what does it mean to say that one
has simply "thought up" something? 13 Is this how noumena come into
being? To posit the intelligible within the sensible {manifold through the
mediation of time}, as the ground of the unityc of the latter, is an ex-
ample of such thinking. What is purely "thought of" is not something
that is experienced; 14 instead, it is something that must first be intro-
duced into {the sensible manifold} by the experiencer, and thus it is "a
priori" in Kant's sense of the term.n
The terms "a priori" and "a posteriori" could 15 have two different
meanings: (A) On the one hand, one could be referring to the entire
system of consciousness, which can be treated as something given (which
is how it appears within ordinary consciousness), in which case it is called
"a posteriori." But when the philosopher provides a derivation of this
same system of consciousness {from the laws of thinking-as present in
advance of all experience}, it is then called "a priori," in the broadest
sense of the term.
(B) On the other hand, {in the narruwer sense,} the term "a posteriori"
can designate whatever is present for inner 16 intuition {in the manifold
of sensible intuition} in consequence of a feeling. In this context, "a pri-
ori" means whatever thinking introduces into the manifold of feeling for
the purpose of unifying this manifold. Kant has provided an accurate
description of the form of thinking that is involved in the latter proce-
dure, but he has not explained the origin of the material that constitutes
this manifold. 17
{"Noumena," therefore, are what is intelligible, insofar as this is made
sensible by means of time.}
12
"Sie ist also etwas mittelbares, das sich im gemeinen Bewufltseyn nicht absondern
laflt."
'""Was heiflt sich den ken, sich etwas den ken?" (H: "was heifl den ken? und zwar sich
etwas denken-oder bios etwas den ken?") I.e., what sort of "object" can mere thinking
have apart from the sensible content provided by intuition? In ordinary speech, the ex-
pression sich etwas denken often means to "imagine" something or "think it up," in contrast
with the sort of "objective" thinking involved in "thinking about" the objects of sensible
intuition.
cAs the mediating link (p. 127).
14 Reading, with Krause's MS, "ist nicht in dem Erfahren," for K's "ist nicht in der Er-
fahrung."
0 Therefore, this mediating link does not lie in experiencing, but is first introduced by
the experiencing subject. Time is therefore a priori in the narrower sense (p. 127).
15 Reading, with Krause's MS, "konnte" for K's "kann."
16 "innere." This is an alternate reading, suggested by Fuchs, of a word that could also
{We now arrive at the most important point, to which all our previous
inquiries are related only indirectly, or as aids to understanding. This
new inquiry is also more difficult than anything that has gone before,
however, and, for this reason, your instructor requests your indulgence
if he should now be less successful in making himself understood than
previously.
First of all, we wish to secure the correct viewpoint.}
138 How is consciousness possible?E This is our chief question. {Answer:}
All consciousness isF an immediate consciousness of our own acting, and
all mediate or indirect consciousness provides the condition for the pos-
sibility of this same acting. This is the provisional answer we have hith-
erto given to our question, though we have not yet made it {sufficiently}
precise. All that has been said so far has merely prepared the way for
what is to come.
{The formal [aspect] of this question [how does consciousness come
into being?] must also explain the material, 19 i.e., the object of con-
sciousness, and this immediate consciousness must be explained on the
basis of mediate or indirect consciousness. Our path must ascend from
mediated consciousness to immediate consciousness, and we will have
reached the end of our inquiry when we have exhibited this immediate
consciousness.
How dose are we to a solution to this problem? Where do we now (128)
stand?}
In the course of our previous inquiry we have discovered the follow-
ing: Consciousness of acting is possible only on the condition of free-
dom. {"I am supposed to become conscious of myself as acting": this
means the same as "I am supposed to be conscious of myself as a free
being."} Freedom is possible only on the condition of a concept of a goal;
a concept of a goal is possible only on the condition of cognition of an
object; cognition of an object is possible only on the condition of acting.
(1) The scope of our inquiry, which began at the circumference, with
consciousness in its entirety, {which we divided into the spheres of ideal
and real activity,} has now been narrowed, and we have moved closer to
the center. We now understand which circle we have become caught up
in, and it is by calling attention to this circle that we will be able to pro-
ceed further.
{Free acting is possible only on the condition that a concept of a goal (1
is present; for freedom is a movement of transition from what is deter-
minable to what is determinate, but [in order to accomplish such a move-
ment of transition] I have to know what is determinate-i.e., I have
lO possess some concept of a goal. This, however, is possible only on the
condition that there is cognition of an object of acting, and such cogni-
tion is, in turn, possible only if an action itself occurs. Thus, insofar as it
is a priori (in the broader sense of the term, i.e., insofar as it has its basis
in the laws of thinking, prior to all experience), the concept of a goal is
possible only on the condition of an a posteriori cognition; and an a pos-
teriori cognition, in turn, is possible only on the condition of this con-
cept [of a goal]. Our explanation of consciousness thus coils back upon
itself in the following circle: B (objective cognition) is derived from A
(the concept of a goal), and A is derived from B.}
Acting is possible only on the condition of cognition of an object,
whereas such cognition is possible only on the condition of acting. An
understanding of Critical idealism depends upon an understanding of
this circle.
From this it follows that nothing is explained. The difficulty involved
in explaining this can be overcome only through the synthetic unifica-
tion of both {the concept of a goal and [cognition of] an object}, and we
will thereby arrive at the point from which consciousness can be ex-
plained. {Reason must therefore contain within itself something that
combines the distinctive features of both.
Such a synthesis exists only for the philosopher and only in the con-
text of his investigations of the I. For the original I, this is an absolute
thesis, and the original I proceeds in a purely analytic manner. In accor-
dance with the proper character of the synthetic method, the previously
affirmed [and circularly related] propositions always remain true and
must remain so; but, in order to determine them more precisely and to
confirm them, some intermediate, unifying term must be introduced
between them. Thus, here too the concept of a goal has to be united with
the concept of an object.}
(In the interest of method, let us display this circle in a simpler form-
a way of proceeding which is similar to that of mathematicians.)
Cognition of an {actual} object refers to a feeling and is necessarily
posited in consequence of a feeling;G consequently, instead of positing
cognition of an object, we could posit feeling. A concept of a goal refers
to acting and is here considered to be a condition for the possibility of
acting; accordingly, instead of positing the concept of a goal, we could
posit acting. Our circle would then be as follows: No feeling without act-
ing; no acting without feeling. Each of these is necessarily dependent
upon the other. {Thus, if we presuppose either of these, there must exist (12
a relationship of dependence between both of them.
Remark: One must not lose sight of the mediating concepts involved
here. There is no feeling apart from acting: In this case, the dependence is
clear. The conclusion that there is no acting unless a feeling is frresupposed is
not one that follows so immediately, however. Its truth is established only
as follows: No acting is possible without a concept of a goal; no concept
of a goal is possible without cognition of an object; no cognition of an
object is possible without a feeling. These intermediate concepts mak.e
the dependence clear: there can be no acting without a feeling. Further-
more, this shows only that there is a relationship of dependence between
G Cognilion of an actual ~ct refers 10 a feeling, does nol exisl wi1hou1 a feeling, and is
considered lo be necessary only in consequence of a feeling (p. 129).
286 § 13
the two propositions that make up the previously indicated circle; it does
not establish any synthesis.}
H How can this circle be avoided? Only by eliminating the dependence, so that feeling
and acting would be thought of as joined in one and the same state (p. 130).
1!<1 "In dem unbek.annten X liegt, dall die Freiheit beschriinlt sein soli."
choice. In addition, the freedom ascribed to a rational being would have
to be such that no freedom would be possible without reflecting upon
this quantum. If this were so, then (since all limitation expresses itself
through a feeling) no free choice would be possible apart from a feeling
of limitation.•
{There can be no expression of freedom without some expression of ( 131
limitation. Once again, however, this principle is valid only for those of
us who are engaged in philosophical inquiry, and only for the purpose
of explaining consciousness. It is not valid in and for itself, but only of-
and only for-our I.}
We have previously discussed limitation in general or as such, which
expresses itself through an original feeling (the feeling of [one's] entire
state), i.e., through the system of sensibility, {which endures throughout
all alterations of feelings and is related to every particular feeling.
Consequently,} this system itself {(as a quantum of what is determinable),
from which, in accordance with the fundamental law of feeling, a rep-
resentation would also have to follow,} would {here} be a feeling-and I
would possess this feeling only insofar as I were free.
Moreover, we have seen that this feeling [of the system of sensibility as
a whole] is posited as something in space: namely, as our body. This may
also be the case here: the sum total of our determinability would be our
body) (Considered as something sensible, 21 this determinate sum of de-
140 terminability will turn out to be individuality; whereas, thought of as
something supersensible, it will turn out to be the ethical law!)
It follows from our synthesis that this must be the case, for only in this
way is consciousness possible.
{Let us now [examine] this circle from both sides:}
A limitation that is impossible without freedom is a limitation of free-
dom itself. It is a direction; more precisely, it is the original direction of
freedom upon a single point. 22 This, however, does not accord with the
concept of freedom we have here established. We must {therefore} ex-
amine this concept more closely than was previously necessary. We pre-
viously said that freedom is an absolute movement of transition from
determinability to determinacy. Even in § 1,K however, we already saw
1
Accordingly, no free choice-no acting-would be possible apart from a feeling, since
the expression of limitation is called "a feeling": that is, a certain quantum of what is de-
terminable (p. 130).
1 This limitation of what is determinable may well be this overall :ryotem of snuibility; the
sum total of determinability may well be our body (p. 131).
21
"sinnlich betrachtet."
22
"Richtung und zwar ursprilngliche Richtung derselben ist ein Punct." The translation
of this obscure sentence has been guided by the parallel passage in H: "eine urspriingliche
Beschrii.nkung der Freyheit auf einen Punkt" ("an original limitation of freedom to a
single point).
K In the first §§ (p. I 3 I).
288 § 13
direnden Glieder."
27 "und Freiheit ware das Vermogen absolut anzufangen."
28 See sect. I of the Introduction (KGS, VI: 213-14).
LThis freedom is supposed to be limited (p. 132).
a result of freedom.} In this way, we retain both the power to make an
absolute beginning and the limitation. M
The limitation consists in the fact that only Y can be the first member
of the series; but only the power to initiate an absolute and free begin-
ning can be limited in this manner. There must therefore be a kind of
determinacy that applies only to freedom. We said above that if freedom
141 is to remain freedom, then determinacy cannot be prescribed to it in ad-
vance. In the present case, however, even the determinacy is considered
to be the result of freedom. 29 This might appear to contradict {what was
presented above, where the limitation of a free being was taken to be
what is determinable, i.e., a quantum or sum total for the sphere of pos-
sible free actions}, but it does not; for determinability is posited as a
quantum, but a quantum cannot be thought of unless something else,
lying outside of this quantum, is also assumed. {We must therefore also
assume something that is undetermined but determinable, in relation to
which the latter-that is, what is determinable [considered as a specific
quantum}-becomes something determinate.} In this respect, what is
determinable would also be determinate. What is called "what is deter-
minate" at one moment can, in another respect, also be what is deter-
minable {-a quantum}.
The members of the synthesis--determinability and determinacy-
{which surely had to be united at some point,} would thus be united, and
the {first} member, which still has not been indicated or explained, would
{therefore} be both {at once}, depending upon how it were viewed: in
relation to what lies outside it, it possesses determinacy; insofar as it is
supposed to make a free choice possible, it is determinable.~ 0
Our synthetic concept is freedom and determinacy in one. It is free-
dom, insofar as an {absolute} beginning is made; it is determinacy, inso-
far as a beginning can be made only in this particular way.
(3) {Let us now determine this concept of freedom even more precisely,
which will be the final step in our synthetic ascent. (From now on, we
M In this way, freedom and limitation remain simultaneously alongside and connected
with one another (p. 132).
29
"hier ist ja die Beschriinktheit selbst als Resultat der Beschriinktheit angegeben
worden." Reading "Freiheit" for the second occurrence of "Beschranktheit," which makes
little sense in this context. Cp. the parallel passage in H: "wir hier die Beschriinktheit zu
einem BESTIMMTEN-ZU einer bestimmten Richtung der Freyheit-machen" ("we here
make the limitation into something that has been determined-into a determinate direc-
tion of freedom").
0
" "Bestimmbarkeit, in wiefern ihm eine Wahl durch Freiheit moglich sein soil." Liter-
ally: "Insofar as a free choice is supposed to be possible for it." This makes little sense, and
hence the translation has been emended in the light of the parallel passage in H: "da~ a us
ihm doch auch noch gewahlt werden soli" ("insofar as a choice is also still supposed to be
made from it").
290 § 13
tion and reflection, and through the inferences derived therefrom in accordance with the
rules of our philosophy (pp. 133-34).
P Thus it would be nothing but an act of intuiting ourselves as something determinate;
and this is the way we appear to ourselves within sensible intuition-we know nothing of
anr,thing supersemible (p. 134).
'"ein Sollen, ein Fordern."
' 6 "dieses wird es erst, in wiefern es auf eine sinnlii::he Willkiihr bezogen wird."
One could call it "pure will," {which does not come into being, but is
already there,} divorced from any of the conditions that make intuition
possible. This is what we must place at the basis of the act of thinking
described above [the act of thinking which connects the manifold offeel-
ing to my own willing], {and it must be this that I observe within this
same act of thinking}. I now know whnt the object of this act of thinking
is, but I still do not know Jww such an act can occur {-between pure
willing and this act of thinking}. Since this act of thinking is a necessary
one, {and since everything that is necessary is grounded in a feeling,} the
mediating link between it and willing must be supplied by a feeling of
some sort. {Consequently, some feeling must lie between this categorical
demand and this act of thinking.} What kind of feeling can this be? A
feeling is a limitation of striving; accordingly, striving must extend be-
143 yond the sphere of striving that is originally determined by pure willing,
and the limitation of this striving by an act of pure willing would pro-
duce a feeling of prohibition, of not being permitted37 to go beyond this
sphere, a feeling of being obliged {to remain} within this sphere of the
"ought."
(This act of going beyond the sphere determined by the pure will is
itself something sensible, because it is posited in opposition to pure will-
ing, that is, in opposition to what is, properly speaking, the true 1.)
Thus we find that freedom and limitation are originally united within
a categorical demand, {from which a representation of an object can be
easily derived,} and which must necessarily be assumed if consciousness
is to be explained. Freedom [is present here], inasmuch as a new begin-
ning has to be made; limitation [is present as well], inasmuch as we are
here obliged not to go beyond a specific sphere [the sphere determined
by pure willing].
(4) {The question is this: To what extent has the difficulty been re-
solved? For the time being, we wish to answer this question only
provisionally.} The difficulty that faced us was actually this: to explain an
act of willing without {presupposing} any cognition of the object {of this
act-a pure act of willing-one that is present in itself-therefore some-
thing original and a condition for the possibility of all consciousness.
Such an act of willing must be possible, because this act of willing, even
if it is considered only as an empirical one, already contains within itself
cognition of an object.} The reason for the above-mentioned difficulty
lay in the fact that we considered empirical willing (i.e., the movement of
transition from what is determinable to what is determinate) to be the
only kind of willing. This has now been denied; we have now postulated
a kind of willing which does not presuppose cognition of an object, but
37
"das Gefiihl des Nichtdiirfens."
§ 13 293
which carries its object within itself and which is not based upon any act
of deliberation, {but which is original and is a pure act of willing-an act
of willing which is determinate without any assistance from us as em- (135)
pirical beings. Such willing is a demand. All empirical willing first arises
from this [pure] willing.
One commonly says, "I cannot will unless I first possess a cognition of
the object I am willing." This, however, is not true, for there is also an-
other kind of willing, one that provides itself with its own object and to
which, therefore, no object is given in advance.} With this, the source of
our difficulty has been entirely removed.
The pure will is the categorical imperative. Here, however, it will not
be employed as such, but will be employed only for the purpose of ex-
plaining consciousness in general. Kant employs the categorical imper-
ative only to explain consciousness of duty.
(5) 38 The empirical will is derived from the pure will, and all other ob-
jects are derived from the object of the pure will.
Any time we attempt to explain consciousness, we have to assume
something that is first and original. This was the case in our previous
account of feeling, and it is also the case in our present account of will-
ing: {we have to assume an original act of willing, which simply is what
it is}. Every act of thinking, every act of representing, lies between and
mediates 39 original willing and limitation through feeling.Q We are able
to observe the {modifications of the} ideal activity, because ideal activity
is the only thing we are able to intuit or to grasp, {and from this there
arise the various states of our mediated consciousness, as well as what is
sensible}.
(6) Our present task is not to establish a theory of morality, 40 but rather
to provide a general account of consciousness, and we can do this only by
144 presupposing the pure will as described above. What we have to show
now is how this presupposition will allow us to explain our consciousness
of objects. {How does an object arise through this act of willing?}
Pure willing, at this point, is not supposed to be anything more than
the explanatory ground of consciousness; it is still a hypothesis, not
yet an object of consciousness. {One should think of this determinacy
of pure willing in the most indeterminate manner possible-as a mere
8
' In K the following three paragraphs appear at the end of sect. 4, whereas in H they
constitute a separate section (sect. 5). The translation from now on follows the numbering
of the sections in H, with the result that the following secu. 6-8 actually correspond to
sects. 5-7 of§ 13 in K, and sect. 9 corresponds to sect. 8 in K (which is, in fact, the second
section labeled "(7)" in Krause's MS) and to the unnumbered MGeneral Survey" in H.
9
' "liegt zwischen [ ... ] in der Mitte." More literally: "lies in the middle between."
QThe ideal activity lies between and mediates original willing and feeling (p. 135).
40 "eine Moral aufzustellen."
294 § 13
(7) As wilh all feelings, lhis feeling of "oughl" also gives rise lo an inw-
ilion and a concepl.
Consequently, lhis feeling musl be lhoughl of. Lel us begin by lrealing
il as pure willing. {To be sure, lhis acl of lhinking of lhe "oughl" firsl
occurs by means of an inwilion. Bul in order lO increase lhe clarily of
whal follows, we will now abslracl from lhis fael and will leap direcdy lo
lhinking.
The "oughl" is now lo become an objecl of thought; i.e., il is lo be con-
sidered as a pure acl of willing, as somelhing inlelligible-as whal I nec-
essarily will; in olher words, il is an "oughl." This pure willing, however,
is an "oughl" only insofar as il is a feeling. On lhe olher hand, il can be
lhoughl of only in accordance wilh lhe laws of lhinking. The highesl law ( 138)
of lhinking slales lhal} every acl of lhinking is a movemem of lransilion
from delerminabilily lO delerminacy. Every acl of lhinking is a delermi-
nale activily {wilhin lime}, which wrenches somelhing oul of lhe undif-
146 ferenlialed mass 46 [of whal is delerminable] and delermines il. {All my
lhinking is discursive.} When anylhing is assimilaled inw lhe form of
lhinking, {il is and appears lo be a lransilion from whal is delerminable
lo whal is delerminale, [and]} il itself becomes delerminale. {Therefore,
when I lhink ofwhal is imelligible il lhereby becomes somelhing sensible,·
lhal is lo say, I assimilale il to lhe law and lo lhe form of lhe lransilion
from whal is delerminable lO whal is delerminale.} (This is lhe firsl im-
49 "Das Dasein der Dinge sei nur Einbildung." For the difference between "transcen-
58
Reading, with H, "dann kann ich mich nicht als bestimmend denken," for K's "nun
kann ich mich aber nur denken, als bestimmend" ("but I can only think of myself as de-
termining"), which would appear to assert the opposite of what the rest of this passage
asserts.
59
Reading, with Krause's MS, "Bestimmen" for K's "Bestimmten" ("what is deter-
mined'').
60
"Dieses Uebergehen ist nun einmahl so, ich mag wollen oder nicht-es ist das Haupt-
gesez meines denkens. lch bin nur zuschauend."
61
"etwas intelligibles, ein geistiges."
62
Reading, with H, "MATERIE" for K's "Zeit" ("time"), which is presumably an error on
Krause's part. (lime is the form of inner intuition.) Thanks to its complete lack of punc-
tuation, it might still be possible to make sense of the sentence in K ("Die Form der
auseren Anschauung Raum und Zeit pa~t darauf gar nicht") by rendering it: "Space, the
form of outer intuition, and time do not pertain in the least to such a being." The pre-
ceding sentence, however, clearly states that we are here concerned only with abstraction
from the form of ouJer intuition; hence it seems best to correct K with reference to H.
v The I is here only something intelligible, merely something thought of-apart from
space and matter-something purely spiritual. I.e., one must abstract from the form of
outer intuition, while continuing to think of something; in this way, one obtains [the
thought of] a mind or spirit (p. 141).
spiritual being] must also be purely spiritual: a purely spiritual mass {or (141)
sphere}. 63 (Sit venia verbo, 64 this "spiritual mass" will later reveal itself to
be the realm of rational beings. The I is a determinate portion of this
mass; as we shall see below, what is spiritual is divisible.) The I is rea-
son-determinate reason.
What is determinable in this case is reason as a whole (my generic
essence). 65 ·z I myself am what is determinate {(through a feeling), as
what is poJited in oppOJition to this sphere}: namely, I as an individual (for
I posit a sphere of rational beings in opposition to myself).
We must now compare to each other what is determinable and what is
determinate in this case. These are opposed to each other as follows: I
am what is determinate, but I am not what is determinable. What is de-
terminable is Not-[. On the other hand, what is determinable and what is
determinate are here similar, inasmuch as both are equally spiritual.
(I.e., they can be grasped only by thinking; they are both noumena.)
How does what is determinate become I? In what sense am I an "1"-
as opposed to other beings similar to myself?
Hitherto we have employed the word "I" to designate self-reverting
activity; this will no longer suffice, however, for it serves only to distin-
guish rational beings from other, irrational objects. (Moreover, as we will
see later, self-reverting activity can also be ascribed to the organic prod-
ucts of nature.) Hence, [in order to obtain an adequate concept of the I]
something else must be added: the thought of the self-reverting activity
must be connected with this self-reverting activity.AA
150 The determinacy I myself produce gives rise to a feeling, and from
this feeling there arises the thought of myself. Thus I discover myself to
be an object, and I am an object for myself. I can discover myself to be
an object, however, only on one condition: namely, that I discover myself
to be one individual among many spiritual beings.
It is a cardinal principle of Critical idealism that one begin with some-
thing intelligible. Proceeding in accordance with this principle, we have
finally been driven to [posit the existence of] a pure act of willing. Em-
pirical willing is not sufficient. Each of my empirical determinations re-
..., "eine Malle des rein geistigen."
64
"lf 1 may be be permitted to say so."
65 "Wesen meiner Gattung."
z What is determinable is all reason and freedom, i.e., the realm of spirits, as my generic
essence (p. 141 ).
AA Until now, "1-hood" signified for us "self-reverting activity." But other beings like me
also contain such an activity within themselves; they too are supposed to be able to limit
themselves. Indeed, even living66 things-plants, for example-possess a self-reverting ac-
tivity (but we will discuss this later). Therefore, an additional criterion has to be added: I
am an "1" only if the self-reverting activity also gives rise to the thought of the same-a
thought that is immediately united with this activity. The thought of myself follows as a
consequence of the feeling of my pure willing (p. 141).
66 Reading "lebendige" for H's "leblose" ("lifeless").
fers to my original determinacy, and I can think of these determinations
only if I presuppose such an original determinacy. I could not ascribe
this power to myself had I not first discovered it; but I can discover it
only as determinacy and pure willing.
Remarks:
(1) I discover myself, therefore, as an object; I am given to myself.
(2) What is determinable is a realm of rational beings outside of
me. But I think of rational beings outside of me only in order to explain
the manifold. I do not perceive the reason and the free will of others
outside of me; this is something I only infer from appearances in the
sensible world. Consequently, these other rational beings belong not
within the sensible world, but rather within the intelligible one, the
world of noumena. 88
(The most striking demonstration of the incompleteness of Kant's
Critical philosophy is that Kant has never provided an explanation of
this point, {that is, how I come to assume that there are rational beings (142)
outside of me}. {According to his system, I cannot answer, "I know this
from experience," because, according to Kant, no experience, in the
dogmatic sense, of something "in itself" is even possible. He himself also
says that reason outside of us is not anything that can be perceived and
that no outer intuition of it is possible.}68 He came very close to answer-
ing this question in the Critique ofJudgment, for it would be on the basis
of the principle of reflective judgment that this assumption [that there
are other free, rational beings] could be explained. 69 When it proceeds
in accordance with the general laws of thought, that is, in accordance
with the categories, the power of judgment simply subsumes- [things
under their proper categories]. But there can also be cases where one
cannot proceed in this manner and yet must nevertheless make a judg-
ment, and, in such cases, one must proceed in an opposite manner. Kant
88
I discover myself as an object-I am an object for myself. But I cannot do this unless
I discover myself to be an individual. Each of my empirical determinations can be derived
only from my original determinacy and can be thought of only if the latter is presupposed.
We said above that what is determinable is the realm of rational beings. How do I arrive
at this claim?
Reply: Rational beings are merely thought of. By means of thinking, I project them 67
into the manifold of appearances in order to explain these appearances to myself. (Just as,
above, I also had to project myself into the manifold [of feelings] in order to explain this
manifold.) For reason-that is, a free act of willing on the part of othen outside of me-is
not something I can see or hear or feel, etc.; instead, I think of other rational beings and
infer their existence purely on the basis of a perception in the sensible world. I think of
them in order to introduce unity into appearances and into my overall experience. Reason,
freedom, and rational beings: these therefore belong within the intelligible world, among
the noumena (p. 141).
67
"ich denke mir dieselben [ ... ] hinein."
68
See KRV. B59 and A346/B4o4ff.
69
See the Introduction to the Critique of]wl.gment, as well as the treatment of teleological
judgments in the second half of the same work.
indicates this, but only in the case of judgments concerning the organic
produces of nature.
The principle according to which we assume the existence of rational
beings outside of ourselves is not presented in Kant's writings as a prin-
ciple that provides the basis for any cognition; instead, it is presented as
a practical principle, which is how he has formulated it in the moral
principle that states, "I should act in such a manner that the way in
which I act could become a law for every rational being." 70 In order to
do this, however, I must first assume the existence of rational beings out-
side of me; for otherwise, how could I apply this law to them?)
{This has led a Dutch scholar71 to ask whether our practical reason is (143)'
something different from our speculative reason. Though Kant and all
the Kantians have merely laughed at this question, your instructor does
not join in their laughter. Such a question is quite natural. Is it possible
that only our practical reason possesses any knowledge of [other] ratio-
nal beings and relates its actions to them? Must not theoretical reason
also possess such knowledge? Your instructor replies: it is precisely this
command addressed to my practical reason which is also the principle,
or cognitive ground, 72 [that permits me] to think of rational beings out-
side of myself. Thanks to the connection between practical and theoret-
ical reason, by virtue of ics drive toward acting, this same reason is also
a basis of cognition 72 and serves as a principle for the theoretical as-
sumption that there are [other] rational beings.}
According to the order of thinking, therefore, I myself am the first
and highest thing I discover; I cannot discover myself apart from similar
beings outside of me, however, for I am an individuaL {It makes no sense
to say "I am an individual" unless others are thought of as well.} Accord-
ingly, my experience begins with a realm 75 of rational beings, to which I
myself belong; and everything else follows from this. cc This [realm of
rational beings] constitutes the intelligible world: it is a "world," inas-
70
See sects. 1 and 2 of the Grundkgungzur Metaph]JiA der SiUen (1785) (KGS, IV: 402 and
436--!17). English translation by Lewis White Beck, Faundaliuru of the Metaphysics of Mfffai.J
(Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1959), p. 18 and 55· See too Cri/lq1<e of Practical RM.son, Pt. I,
Bk. I, Chap. I. § 7 (KGS, V: 30).
71 The "Dutch scholar" is identified by the editors of AA IV, 2 as Paulus van Hemen
( •756--1825), who raised this question in his 1799 treatise, Ueber die Existence der Principien
eines reinm uneigenniitUTI Wohlwollens im Menschen. This attribution, however (which is, of
course, incompatible with the hypothesis that H dates from some semester before the win-
ter semester of •798/gg), is very uncertain and has been quite plausibly challenged by
Radrizzani in the introduction to his French translation of the WLnm, pp. 34-35· See "Dat-
in~ the Halle Transcript" in the Editor's Introduction.
2 "ErkenntnifJgrund," in both instances.
70 Reading, with H, "Reiche" instead of K's "Rei he" ("series").
cc Properly speaking, all other appearances are first connected to this intelligible world.
One can thereby see how all additional expet"ience in its entirety is connected with what is
determinable-that is, how the remaining world of experience, including the sensible
world, is connected to the realm ofrational beings (p. 143).
much as it is something discovered; it is "intelligible," inasmuch as it can
only be thought of and [cannot] be intuited. 00 {These are the conditions
for the possibility of the intelligible world: it is there, I discover it, and
then I think about it; and, because I think about it, it is discovered-and
is therefore a "world." I do not assimilate it to the form of intuition, how-
ever; instead, it is for me merely a possible act of thinking-and is there- ( 144)
fore "intelligible."
Kant has not given an adequate account of what is discovered; that is,
he has not explained where the world comes from. For him, the world is
merely something that we always think of in conjunction with what-
ever else we might be thinking of-something that simply has to be
assumed.}
The world of experience is erected upon the intelligible world. Both
worlds {-the intelligible (thought-of) world and the world of experi-
ence (discovered)-} occur simultaneously; neither can exist without the
other. These two worlds are reciprocally related to each other within the
mind., {Precisely because I think of the world of experience, I must also
think of the intelligible world, in order to introduce unity into the man-
ifold of our experience-and vice versa.}
Both worlds arise from the laws of ideal activity: the intelligible world
has its origin in the laws of thinking; the empirical world has its origin
in the laws of intuition. Both are something ideal (noumena), but not
things in themselves.
Both worlds have their foundation in something that is simply and
originally present: the determination of the pure will. Thus, if one
wants to talk about what exists "in itself," this would be the pure wiii,EE
which reveals itself within the empirical world 74 as the ethical law. This
was also noted by Kant in the Critique of Pure Reason. 75
(g) {General Overview of the Present §: To what extent has the difficulty
indicated above now been removed? And how has this been accom-
plished?}
All my spiritual or mental acting,FF as such, presupposes something to
which it is directed. As an act of modifying, it presupposes something
modifiable. Expressed differently, my acting always involves a movement of
transition 76 from what is determinable to what is determinate; but there
must be something fixed, which supports this movement. {There must
00
It is intelligible, for it is discovered in and by means of nothing but a pure act of think-
in~ (p. 143).
E If one wished to assume something in itself, this would be the determination of the
pure will, which would be the only "something in itself' (p. 144).
74
"in der Empirie."
"See KRV, B430 and A532/B56o-A558/B586.
FF All inner acting of the mind (p. 144).
76
Reading, with H, "ein Uebergehen" forK's "ein Uiberschweben." As Radrizzani notes,
Uiherschweben ("to hover or float above") makes little sense in this context, since only
be, as it were, some guiding thread, some rail along which it can move.}
There must be something enduring and constant; and it is this that we
have sought and have [now] discovered as an immediate object of con-
sciousness.
{One might wish to explain consciousness on the basis of the sensibly
I constructed concept of a goal; yet this act of constructing is itself a move-
l ment of transition and thus must also begin with an original concept, or
t: concept of an object. Before I can undertake my movement of transi-
I:
l: tion, a concept of an object must already be present. I obtain this con-
,1'
cept of an object merely from the fact that I am limited in my acting; but
this limitation is not possible unless I act; nor, in turn, can I act without
a concept of a goal. This is and remains a perpetual circle. Consequently,
sensible consciousness cannot be accounted for on the basis of itself
alone. Something else is required, something that is elevated above ev-
erything sensible.
\lt Accordingly, something supersensible has to be assumed, so that this
'I can be related to sensible consciousness as the object of the same. This
supersensible something must therefore be something objective, insofar
as it is supposed to be something given. It can be something given only
insofar as it is something determinate. Consequently, what is supersen-
sible or intelligible must be something determinate.
An objective, given, and determinate [supersensible] something of
this sort, however, can only be the will, for it alone is the immediate ob- (145)
ject of consciousness; it alone is the immediate, real activity of the I.
Consequently,} this determinacy of the pure will is the explanatory
ground of all consciousness.
{I and the realm of rational beings surrounding me constitute the first
object of our consciousness, and the rest of the objects of our cognition
now follow without difficulty.}
• The present § is related to the preceding ones in the following way:
The preceding §§ merely paved the way; in this §, we have established
the point from which everything else is derived, and the difficulty has
now been removed.GG {We now embark upon a new path, in the course
of which we will derive all the remaining objects of our consciousness.}
§ 13
{Let us begin with a more precise statement of our next task: ( 145)
According to § 12,} a feeling is possible for me only insofar as an al-
teration occurs within the system of sensibility; and this produces an ob-
jective cognition.A Such a cognition, however, is possible only in
consequence of acting and only insofar as I think of myself as a cause {§
13}; but I think of myself as a cause only when I relate the manifold of
feeling 1 to pure willing, {[that is,] to myself as the willing subject, in or- (146)
der to be able to grasp this manifold}. Pure willing is {nothing that could
be altered; it is} originally determinate (although it is not empirically de-
termined)B and determining; it is a pure act of willing insofar as it ex-
presses itself as a {feeling of} "ought." An act of willing which is supposed
to have empirical consequences-i.e., to produce an alteration in our
feelings-must thus itself be empirical, for the determinacy of the feel-
ings is explained by the determinacy of the will {as the ground of the
former}; but a will that is not related to such feelings is no will at all.
{Something pure and intelligible does not, by itself, explain anything
empirical;} consequently, the pure will explains nothing.
Our present task is to explain how pure willing becomes empirical
willing. {Once again, therefore, we must seek an intermediate term to
fill this gap between what is intelligible and what is empirical.}
[ 308]
object is determined by nothing except my own willing; every determi-
nation of place is related to my willing, and this alone is what is absolute.
All cognizing and becoming within space depend upon my will.c If this
is so, then my will itself must be related to space. Space, however, is
something empirical (the form of intuition), which can exist only within
experience. The pure will, on the other hand, is supposed to ~ecede
experience, and thus it is insufficient for an empirical account. {How
then does my pure will become empirical?}
(2) A concept' of a goal is possible only by means of objective cognition;
but the latter presupposes that a concept of a goal is already present. {In
§ 13} we succeeded only partially in our attempt to escape from this cir-
de: {We found that the pure will and the original concept of a goal are
one and the same.} A goal has certainly been postulated, but not a sen-
sible one. How does the original goal {or the pure will} become some-
thing sensible? Le., how is it related to the sensible world? Were this
question raised in order to establish a theory of ethics, it could be for-
mulated, "How does the ethical Jaw obtain applicability?" (See Fichte's
[System oJ1 Ethical Tluory.) 2
We are here attempting to derive concepts of the world. These are
supposed to be derived from the pure will, but the pure will is of no use
for this purpose-precisely because it is pure.
{To be sure, we have already given a preliminary and partial answer to
our present question, an answer that depends upon the act of thinking.}
Thinking as such, as the mere act of thinking of something, 11 is the in-
termediate link between what is intelligible and the sensible world.
Therefore, it must be by means of thinking that the pure will becomes
sensible-not simply {(as in the preceding §)}in the sense that some- (147)
thing objective would have to be thought of along with and as contained
within the thought of the pure will, but also in the sense that the pure
will {itselj} would become a {sensible,} empirical will simply as a result of
the fact that we think about it.
Anything that is thought of is subjected to the laws of thinking. We are
not [ordinarily] conscious of these laws, however; we become conscious
of them only by means of philosophy.
c I push a chair forward, and I observe this movement. What does this mean? Reply: The
chair comes to rest in this place, then in this one, etc. What then does this mean? What
determines the "this"? Reply: It is determined by nothing other than my own willing: the
chair is where I wanted to place it. ln this example of determining place, therefore, the
determination of place is related to my willing, and all other positing in space first de-
pends upon my willing (p. 146).
0
The pure will, on the other hand, is not in space. Space first arises only iruofur as
feeling and intuition are present, and my pure will is supposed to precede all these (p.
•46).
2 1JaJ System der Siumkhre (SW, IV: r-g65, and AA 1, 5: 19-~1' 7). See especially Part II:
"Deduction of the Reality and Applicability of the Principle of Ethics," SW, IV: 63-156.
'"Das Den ken als solches, als sich etwas Den ken."
310 § 14
The pure will has been thought of as an Idea. Do we think of the pure
will or not? If we did not think of it at all, then we could not speak of it.
If we do think of it, however, then it falls under the laws of thinking and
becomes something sensible.
In respect to its form, the pure will is viewed as a movement of tran-
sition, as something determinate to which something determinable is
opposed, and it is in this way that the I becomes an individual. Through
1 54 this, however, the I is made sensible only in a formal sense. It might also
be the case that the pure will could become sensible and empirical
materialiter. 4 For the moment, however, this is a mere presupposition.
Preliminary Inquiry
(1) Is the {entire} state of the I, prior to all feeling, intuiting, and think-
ing, to be portrayed as what is actually a priori? Nothing actual would be
obtained in this way at all; this [prior state of the J] is an Idea (an aid to
understanding), 5 something we have to presuppose in order to explain
what needs to be explained. The difficulty lies in the fact that we are
able to think only in accordance with the laws of thinking. Thus we have
to abstract, as much as we are able, from all {the laws of thinking}, and
must assimilate this prior state of the I to the form of thinking only to
the extent that we simply must do so {in order to be able to think of any-
thing at all-even in the most abstract possible manner}.
My will is originally determinate, and this determinacy of my will con-
stitutes my true character as a rational being.E {Will is a relative concept
and is related to a hindrance, a force, etc., all of which must be thought
of whenever we think of the will.} This determinacy can be viewed in two
different ways: (1) It can be viewed as will (with respect to its form), and
hence, as a tendency or disposition, as something in consequence of
which something else is demanded. (2) It can be viewed as a being, as my
own structure or constitution, 6 to the extent that I regard this [deter-
minate] willing as the object of an intuition-though, to be sure, it is not
the object of any intuition we already possess; instead, it is the object of
an intuition to which we must nevertheless here refer in order to be able
to think of anything {at all}. Willing, by its very nature, involves a demand
that extends beyond the act of willing, though we cannot yet explain
what this is that lies beyond willing.
• "in a material sense:·
5
"eine Hiilfslinie."
E My will is originally determinate, and only this determinacy of "something"-which is called
"will" only subsequently, in contrast with my other powers-constitutes the true character
of my essence (p. 147).
6
"als Beschaffenheit meiner selbst."
{This is true of every possible type of willing, including empirical will-
ing. For example, after deliberating for a while, I reach a decision to do
something or other. Thus I always move from what is indeterminate to
what is determinate; I demand something that is supposed to lie outside
of me. To the extent, however, that I make this demand, I myself become
something: namely, the subject who wills this particular thing. I thereby be-
come constituted in a certain way. 7 I was previously undetermined, but
now I am the subject who wills this or that. This is now my constitution,
my state. ·
In the case of pure willing, however, the difference that is implicit in
becoming is absent. I do not become anything by means of pure willing;
instead, I absolutely am.} Considered in the Iauer respect, this act of
willing determines my entire being and essence once and for all, for all
eternity. I am nothing but a subject who wills in a certain way, and my
being consists in nothing but willing in just this way. {My being and my
willing are one and the same, and nothing can be added to or sub-
stracted from this.} This constitutes the original reality {(the "root")} of
the I. This is the result of all our inquiries: {only an act of willing,
indeed,} only the pure will, is capable of being the immediate object of
consciousness. {Consequently, this pure act of willing must possess orig-
inal reality.}
We are unable to consider this pure act of willing as an act of willing,
however, for no object is present to which it could be related; {nor is
there any ideal activity for which this reality could exist, and thus} we are
also unable to regard it as a being, for no consciousness is present for
which it could exist. {Does this then mean that this pure act of willing is
impossible?}
Objectiun: Ideal and real activity are certainly united in the I; conse-
quently, the act of willing can be related to the ideal activity. Reply: This
is impossible, because the ideal activity is governed by the law [of think-
55 ing} according to which it can grasp wholes only bit by bit, or through
their parts; i.e., it is impossible because the finite intellect is only dis-
cursive. But what we are concerned with here is my entire state or my
state as a whole, and thus it too can be grasped only bit by bit. The in-
tellect's acts of feeling, intuiting, and thinking are only movements of
transition from one state to another; yet a movement of transition is pos-
sible only if the manifold that comes into being includes various ele-
ments (the previously indicated feelings), each of which can be grasped
only all at once.F If [on the other hand} our [entire] state were to be
7
"ich bin dadurch auf eine gewifk Weise beschaffen."
F Why then is there no consciousness of this pure act of willing?
&pl1: Because the ideal activity is governed by the law according to which it grasps
things only bit by bit, or grasps only determinate parts, because the finite intellect can
think only discursively. Hence I cannot grasp my state as a whole by means of ideal activity,
312 § 14
for this is able only to grasp various details about my state, i.e., to grasp it in bits and
pieces. This dismemberment is not a matter of my free choice; it is dictated by the laws of
my thinking and is a consequence of the movement of transition from one thing to an-
other. On the other hand, this same movement of transition would admittedly also be im-
possible if the various individual elements of this process could not somehow each be
grasped all at once. There must therefore be something fixed, and we have previously dis-
covered this to be something indivisible within feeling: red is red (p. 148).
8
"wir konnen uns nur im Wiirken anschauen, dadurch dafJ es begrenzt ist." Cp. H:
"durch BESCHRANKTHEIT."
G Through the exercise of causality, something comes into beingfor us, for the only thing
we can intuit immediately is ourselves. Through limitation, something becomes feelable
and intuitable for us; in a word, it becomes a quantum, an object of our feeling (p. 148).
H My true being consists in the determinacy of willing. This constitutes my being in its
entirety. This is grasped in time, and, in this way, I myself come into being, even though I
already exist in advance. This whole is a single being, which is determined by an act of
willing, and this constitutes my state as a whole. But only parts of this whole can be and are
grasped; therefore, what is grasped is only something limited (p. 148).
apart from acting. {If one were to represent our consciousness as a con-
tinuous line and were to continue dividing this line forever, one would
never find a single point in which acting (freedom) and limitation of act-
ing were not combined.} Anything we can feel consists, {therefore, of our
own acting and this limitation}: it exists for us in consequence of acting,
and it is an object of feeling only because this acting is Iimited. 1
{Consequently,} all of our consciousness commences with an interaction
between acting and limitation. Both exist together, and this is the object
of feeling. {7fherefore, "I feel myselr' means the same thing as "I am the
feeling subject."}
156 One should not think of time in conjunction with this affection; in-
stead, it is our state {as a whole, prior to all time}. I am originally de-
termined. It [the I] is a being, and indeed, a limited being. Moreover, I
can grasp this being only to a limited extent. Doing and limitation are
found everywhere. {Later on, we will explain how any feeling at all arises
from this constant conjunction of acting and limitation.
Let us now turn from real to ideal activity.}
• The power of feeling is ideal; it is the source of all intuiting and
thinking. All our thinking within time originates from the power of feel-
ing. {Synthetic, discursive thinking originates in feeling, since we are un-
able to grasp our state as a whole by means of feeling; for feeling is able
to grasp our state as a whole only bit by bit, and thus only the parts of
the latter exist for feeling.}
Remark: We spoke above of the original limitation from which the par-
ticular feelings arise and referred to it as "our overall state." We also
spoke of an alteration within this state. We now have a much more pre-
cise understanding of all this.
{What then is it that is limited?}
The real activity {of the I} is limited by our willing, by {our} individ-
uality. We are able to extend our thoughts beyond this limit and can also
think of rational beings outside of ourselves, {and we thereby first de-
termine ourselves through other rational beings}. The ideal activity is
limited [as well]: we are able to grasp our own state only gradually, and
indeed, in determinate bits. Thanks to the limitation of the ideal activity,
we become something for ourselves. Thanks to the limitation of the real
activity, we determine ourselves through reference to rational beings
outside of ourselves. When all this is assimilated to external intuition,
this provides us with the sensible world. The manifold within me and
the manifold outside of me are reciprocally related to one another.
Every single thing within me is determined by everything else within
me, {i.e., it is what everything else within me is not,} and vice versa;
1
An instance of acting exists for us only insofar as it is intuited as our own acting-as
possessing causal power; and, at the same time, it is an object of our feeling only insofar as it
is limited (p. 149).
{similarly, I am what the other beings outside of me are not, and vice
versa}. But all this comes from [our own] absolute being' and from the
absolute limitation of our ability to grasp this absolute being. With re-
spect to reality, I am not everything; with respect to ideality, I am unable
to grasp what I am all at once.
(2) {How can a rational being become conscious of its own entire state as
a whole?
This can occur only by means of ideal activity, since the state of our ( 150)
real activity, [as determined by] pure willing, remains eternally un-
changeable with respect to all our possible experience-for nothing new
can ever be added to nor can anything be subtracted from this state. We
will now turn to an examination of how the ideal activity can provide
one with a consciousness of one's entire state.
This new presentation of the Wi.ssenschaftslehre diverges from the pub-
lished version in the way that it answers this question. Prompted by the
circumstances of the time, the primary aim of the earlier version was to
show that all our consciousness has its foundation in the eternally valid
laws of our thinking. In addition to this, however, this new presentation
also provides us with the intelligible world as a firm substrate for the em-
pirical one.}
Now that what is actually real has been presented in isolation from ev-
erything else, we must discuss the relationship of what is ideal to the
former, that is, to our own state.
An ideal activity directed at an object whose existence is already pre-
supposed is called "an act of reflection."K {How does this ideal activity of
reflection appear to us?}
(A) Reflection is unconditionally free to select {from this intelligible
primary matter~ the manifold to which it will direct itself. There is no
absolute reason why it chooses one manifold over another.
(I exist in accordance with my original being. This original being is
what is supposed to be reflected upon here. As a result of this act of re-
•57 flection and in consequence of the laws governing the same, my own be-
ing is transformed into something manifold {-and, in this respect, I am
not free, nor am I free in my act of grasping this manifold, inasmuch as
I can grasp it only in an atomic fashion, bit by bit}.)
The reflecting subject is the I; indeed, it is the ideal power of the I,
which is not determined by the previously described determination of
the real I. {The I is "something" and is nothing else whatsoever; thus it
is originally determinate, but only with respect to its real power. As an
1 Everything, however, is determined by being (p. 149).
K An Ukal activity of this sort, i.e., one that refers to and presupposes something intel-
ligible in iLSelf, is called "an act of reflection," which has a firm object in the intelligible
world, or in the original state [of the I] (p. 150).
9
"aus jenem intelligiblen Grundstoffe."
ideal power, on the other hand, the I is undetermined.} But it is the very
nature of 1-hood to determine itself unconditionally, 10 to be what is ab-
solutely first {in every moment of reflection} and never to be anything
secondary {-for otherwise it would not be an I}. Consequently, this act
of reflection is absolutely free. This absolute freedom of reflection is it-
self something supersensible. What is sensible first appears in conse-
quence of the fact that the I is constrained in that it can reflect only
upon parts, indeed, only upon certain parts [of the manifold of feeling].
This is the point of union between the supersensible world and the sen-
sible world. {I thereby pass from the intelligible to the sensible world and
unify both within one and the same consciousness.}
The determinacy produced by this act of reflection is a picture of my-
self in miniature. There can be no I, however, without absolute freedom;
accordingly, absolute freedom must also be included within this picture.
Considered from another side, this {supersensible, absolute} freedom
of reflection is also empirical, and an empirical I is possible only by
means of such freedom. The essence of what is empirical lies in this
gradual, step-by-step process of grasping things individually and then
combining them. (This is what is sensible.) Freedom, on the other hand,
consists in this very process of grasping and combining. (This is what is
supersensible.) We here have the synthesis of freedom and empirical
sequence. 11 Neither can exist without the other. What is intelligible,
{[i.e.,].freedom,} exists only insofar as it is thought of in conjunction with
this empirical sequence, in order to unify the manifold contained in this
sequence, {for what is intelligible exists for us only insofar as it is posited (151
within this sequence; and conversely,} this sequence is impossible with-
out freedom, since it first comes into being only by means of the free-
dom of reflection, {for freedom contains within itself the foundation of
the sequence. Freedom must have as its object some sequence A, B, C, D,
E, F, etc. I cannot be free at all unless I posit a series in this manner.
This also allows us to see what the previously mentioned "state of the
I as a whole" means, insofar as this is thought of as something actual.
This, however, is nothing but a thought; it is something we merely think
of within this sequence, in order to explain the same, .and it would not
be possible for us to do this without freedom ofreflection. This state [of
the I as a whole] is nothing in itself; instead, it is only something thought
of, something that exists for a finite, rational being.}
Freedom of reflection is {therefore} the true point of origin of con-
sciousness.
(B) Within this free and absolutely highest act of reflection, I appear
to myself as the willing subject {(inasmuch as I can reflect anew upon
10
"sich schlechthin selbst zu bestimmen."
11
"die Synthesis der Freiheit und der Empirie der Reihenfolge."
,/
this free act of reflection, whereas all other acts of reflection presuppose
I the latter)}. This act of reflection does not appear to me as such; instead,
I it appears as will.
{This can be clarified by contrasting it with the previously stated
theorem:} We said above that an object of sensible perception must ap-
'i pear to us as something present independently of our reflection, {for, in
the act of reflecting upon this object, I must think of myself as able ei-
ther to engage in reflection or not to do so. I cannot think of myself in
,I! this way, however, unless I have already engaged in reflection-albeit
~~ without noticing it. This subject (i.e., the act of reflection) to which I at-
tach the predicate "freedom" becomes a thing that is present for me.}
f • In our present case, the situation is just the reverse: the act of re-
II
l
flection is here not posited as such, nor is it thought of as something
separate from its object, {for the object is itself a part of the state of the
pure will; reflecting and willing are inseparably united: the object is the
:i will and coincides with the act of reflection}. Consequently, all that ap-
pears in this case is the object, and moreover, it appears as part of my
I own state, and thus as a part of my pure act of willing. Accordingly, what
'58 appears is a will and nothing else. Hence I do discover a pure act of will-
ing, but this is now completely identical with the empirical act of willing
just described.L
• Result: Taken in itself, that is, within the context of a completely
transcendental account of consciousness, this means that I do not will
within time and that my will is nothing empirical. Yet I do indeed reflect
within time upon my pure will, with respect to the sequence {of the
manifold} contained within this pure will, and this act of reflection oc-
curs with absolute freedom. This act of reflection itself becomes for me
an act of empirical willing within time. This freedom of reflection 12 is
precisely what we call "free will" or "freedom of choice," 13 {and this is
the act of empirical willing that was described in the preceding§}.
• It, {the pure act of willing,} is itself something produced through
{the laws of} thinking, {and it arises for me only as a result of my own
thinking. It is nothing but a certain way of looking at things. One cannot
say, "I am engaged in a certain act of willing 'in itself' "; 14 instead,
thought, reflection, and willing are one and the same.} Nevertheless,
the thought involved is a necessary one. For this reason, one must not
interpret this act of free reflection as an illusion; nor should one want to
go beyond it, for one cannot go beyond the laws of thinking.
I~.
L The will is not something independent of the I; consequently, all that presents itself to
me is a free act of willing. This is an act of empirical willing, or the free act of reflection
discussed above (p. 151 ).
12 Reading, with H, "diese Freiyheit der REFLEX! ON" for K's ':Jene freie RI:FL.EXION" ("this
free act of reflection").
""Freiheit der Willkiihr, auch Freiheit der Wahl."
14
"ich will AN SICH so." That is, one cannot claim that what is involved in an act of willing
is the will "in itself."
(C) All this, {that the act of reflection appears as an act of willing,} is '
true only to the extent to which the entire ideal activity becomes con-
tracted and directed upon a single, originaJM object of reflection. 15 Con-
sciousness is possible only as a result of such an act of contraction.
{Actually, we have already discovered this in our description of the
will and of what distinguishes willing from deliberating and wishing.
Only insofar as my ideal activity or my act of reflection is contracted
and directed upon a single point or upon a single part of the original act
of willing does reflection appear to me as will.}
Does it follow from this that it is also possible that the ideal activity-
might not be focused upon a single point {and thus that it might simply
flutter here and there}? Yes indeed! Reflection is not only free to choose
what it shall be directed upon, it is also free to choose whether to reflect
at all. {Therefore, it is also free to come to a rest upon an object of re-
flection and not to reflect any further.} This freedom, however, is pos-
sible only if an act of reflection has already occurred within time. {We
will say more below about this power of abstraction.} Wishing and de-
liberating are possible only insofar as something has already been willed.
Consciousness comes into being with an act of willing.
{We have said the following: In empirical consciousness things are
grasped separately and in isolation from one another; they are dis-
persed and occur within time. Such empirical consciousness is nothing
other than an act of reflection, an act of thinking. The object of this act,
however, is something that is simply "there," just as a rational being as
such is simply present. This object is an act of willing; and this original
object, which appears as an act of willing, coincides with the act of will-
ing only because it is possible for the ideal activity to come to a rest and
to be contracted and directed upon a single point.
What have we achieved in this way?} Our question was: How is an em-
pirical act of willing possible? A partial answer to this question is as fol-
lows: Empirical willing becomes possible through an act of reflecting
separately or bit by bit upon individual parts of [pure] willing. N Our en-
tire question {actually} concerns the {possibility} that the will could be
determined by an empirical object. 16 Consequently, our question has not
yet been entirely answered.
(3) The act of willing that is reflected upon, or {(what is the same thing)}
the act of reflection that was described above as appearing as an act of
willing, is only one portion of the pure act of willing. Accordingly, this
portion should be distinguished from all the other possible acts of will-
ing; and only if it has been distinguished in this way can it become, for
reflection, a determinate act of willing.
159 A particular act of willing is distinguished from other acts of willing by
its object, since all willing (i.e., willing qua willing) has the same form.
Thus the postulated act of reflection upon the pure will is not possible
without some cognizance of objects.0 Where do we obtain such cogni-
tion? This is simply another version of our previous question concerning
the origin of our concept of a goal. I cannot will at all unless I will some
particular object.
(We who are already conscious can distinguish between various acts of
willing, for we already have cognizance of various objects. What con-
cerns us at this point in our inquiry, however, is the very origin of all
consciousness. P
• {Concerning this point, one should} compare {what is said here with (15
what is contained in the instructor's} Natural Right. 11 {Here, however, we
have to dig even deeper and must investigate the underlying principles,
which were only presupposed in this book.})
Solution to the difficulties now facing us:
this context.
§ 14 321
sion of the original energy of our willing itself: such a being is our own
body, insofar as it is an instrument. Our willing within time is already
assimilated to the form of thinking. {Our body is the enduring presen-
tation of our willing within the material world.
This being, which is the pure will as intuited, is not a product of my
empirical willing; it is not an alteration in my state. Instead, insofar as
the empirical will is under the sway of the power of free choice, then
what is witl;tin our control is the result of an original act of willing, which
precedes all empirical willing.}
• The nature of our empirical willing is such, however, that something
is supposed to come into existence immediately as a result of it. (E.g., I
can immediately move my hand or my foot simply by willing to do so.)
My empirical will, however, is nothing but a particular way of thinking
about my pure will; consequently, my hand and my foot must come un-
der the control of my pure will, and this means that they are my pure
will itself, in the form of outer intuition, as matter in spaceR
{This was described in the treatise on morality as the "first point of our ( 156)
efficacious acting within the sensible world. " 2 2J
• The most precise empirical concept of the body is as follows: My
body (insofar as it is articulated) is what I am able to control simply by
my power of free choice, {where I need do no more than will. Note: I
have control over my body only insofar as it is articulated, not as an or-
ganic system.}. The transcendental concept of the body is as follows: My
body is my original willing, assimilated to the form of outer intuition.
"My body and I"-"my mind and I": these expressions mean the same
thing. Insofar as I intuit myself, I am my body. Insofar as I think of my-
self, I am my mind. But neither of these can exist without the other, and
this constitutes the union of the mind with the body.s
&suit: {In order to explain consciousness, there must therefore be an
act of reflection, and the object of this act of reflection is the pure will.}
An intuition of an object ( = my body) is connected with the act of re-
flection upon the pure will. {We intuit our original energy, determina-
tion, or pure will as our body; i.e., the willing subject is intuited as matter
"Our empirical will is so constituted that something has to exist outside of it, in addition
to this will itself. If, for example, I will to see, I must have an eye. My eye is controlled by
my power of free choice; i.e., it is subject to my empirical will. My empirical will itself,
however, is nothing but an appearance, a way of thinking about pure willing; consequently,
it must be through the pure will that I control my eye as well. What does this mean?
My eye is nothing in itself; instead, it is my pure will itself, as it appears under the form
of outer intuition in space21 (p. 155).
21
"nur als Form der aussern Anschauung im Raume."
22
See Das SJSiem der SiUenlehre, § 6 (SW, IV: g8).
s "I"-"my body"-"my mind": these all mean and assert the same thing. I am my body
and my mind: all are one. I am my body when I intuit myself; I am [my] mind when I think
of myself. But I cannot do one without also doing the other; and for this reason I ascribe
both to myself. They are distinguished merely as different aspects (p. 156).
322 § 14
in the sensible world.} All sensible perception begins with the perception
of my body.
(B) Returning to our main inquiry, we discover that we have still not
solved the problem confronting us. Our body is the original presenta-
tion T of our entire original act of willing, but we are able to reflect upon
it only bit by bit. How is this possible? Through my pure act of willing,
my being is given to me all at once, but I am able to reflect upon it only
bit by bit. If I could reflect all at once upon my entire will, this act of
reflection would be accompanied by a reflection upon my body as a
whole; since I cannot accomplish the former, however, then neither can
I accomplish the latter. {Therefore, I also have no intuition of my entire
body, because I cannot reflect upon my pure act of willing as a whole.
Nor have we yet shown how the indicated act of reflecting and thinking
bit by bit, an act directed only at a part [of the whole], is possible. Hence
we must penetrate even deeper-and indeed, quite abstractly.}
• Here we face the following difficulty: I am free when I engage in an
act of reflection; but my act of reflection is an act of wrenching some-
thing out of the mass [of what is determinable], and thus it is an act of
limiting.u A conscious act of limiting is not possible, however, unless I
am acquainted with something that is assumed to lie beyond the limits 23
in question. This, however, is not possible, and thus reflection is not pos-
sible either. This difficulty could be avoided only if the limitation in
question were one that would exist without my first having had to pro-
duce it through an act of reflection. It would have to be something that
is originally discovered, an original feeling.
{My pure will is a whole, and I am free to reflect upon any part of this
whole I want. As a result, time comes into being for me, and, as a result
of this, something empirical within space comes into being for me; and
only thereby does any consciousness at all come into being.
But how does what is limited-e.g., parts X, Y, Z, etc.-become
present within my pure will? Do I introduce this limitation by means of
my own free act of reflection? Certainly not, for this would presuppose . 't
v We spoke above about the state of the I as a whok. But this is something that could not
be grasped without an alteration in this whole system. What then is the origin of this al-
teration? (p. 157).
wIt is something that arises only by means of discursive thinking (p. 157).
all consciousness? Where does it come from? How are we able to pre-
suppose and to think in advance of this concept of alteration, which, in
itself, is certainly nothing?}
(a) "I perceive a determinate state of myself." {(It does not matter here
whether this is an act of willing or a being, something sensible or some-
thing intelligible. In short, we are here considering this determinate
state in its highest universality. I perceive it:} this obviously means that I
relate this determinate state to my state as a whole, i.e., to the entire
possible system of my being. {Perception is made possible only by op-
posing and relating a particular state to my state as a whole-as we il-
lustrated above with the example of wine tasting. 24} All multiplicity in
several moments of time is thus based upon something opposed to it, {my
entire state} at a single moment.
{For example: In moment A, I have a certain perception. Then I per-
ceive something else in moments B, C, and D. A manifold or a multi-
plicity in several moments is not perceptible at all, however, unless, in
moment A, something posited in opposition to this manifold lies at the
basis of the same.}
(~)This system of my being {necessarily} contains within itself the sub-
strate of what is here perceived separately and in a determinate manner,
and this substrate is {therefore} posited along with the system as a whole.
This same substrate X is thus opposed and related to itself, and thus it is
posited in several different aspects.
The best example of this is provided by my own body (here considered
only in terms of its articulated parts). I do not have any total feeling of
my body. I feel only my individual limbs, and I first obtain a concept of
my body as a whole by relating these to each other. I perceive [my body]
only when some alteration occurs; I feel [my body] only when I alter one
part in relation to the whole.x
I can perceive my hand only insofar as I move it to a different position
in relation to the whole. Movement, however, is possible only in relation
to a state of repose. Repose is the terminus a quo. When I move my hand,
I must think of it as having been lying still. In this example, my hand
would be the substrate, and repose and movement would be the two dif-
ferent-albeit inseparably connected-aspects of the same.
(y) What is the origin of these different aspects of a single substrate X?
A transcendental philosophy must show how both these aspects arise
{from the original determinacy of the I and} from the laws of thinking. (1
24
See above, § 6, sect. 6.
x I obtain a concept of the whole only by means of the concept of the individual mem-
bers, i.e., by thereby relating these individual members to the whole. For example, I per-
ceive my hand only insofar as it alters or moves. I first feel the individual parts [of my
body] only insofar as they are altered in relation to my body as a whole, i.e., [only through
their] movement (p. 158).
Thus the question remains, What is the origin of this double aspect of X,
which is based upon the laws of thinking?
(b) This double aspect is {necessarily} an original [feature of substrate
X] and not an acquired one, {one that is introduced within time}. Noth-
ing, however, is original except the pure will. Consequently, the pure will
itself must possess a double aspect, and we have already indicated some-
thing of this sort above. Willing (i.e., force or energy) and limitation are
both contained within the pure will, {and, according to the preceding§,
the pure will is thereby determined}. If this double aspect of the pure
will is what provides us with the foundation for a reflection upon the
determinate state [of the I], then it follows that willing and limitation
must be {absolutely synthetically} united within this act of reflection. It
163 must be possible-in one and the same moment-to intuit one and the
same [substrate] X of my state as both existing and not existing; 25 i.e., it
must possible to intuit it as totally opposed to itself, and indeed, in such
a way that neither of its opposed aspects would be possible apart from
the other.
{We wish to posit some possible act of willing. In order to do this, I
must regard myself as an empirical act of willing-i.e., as a subject able
to posit itself as willing or as not willing. Expressed in terms of an intu-
ition, I must posit an intuition that both exists and does not exist. For
example, the movement of my hand is nothing apart from a state of re-
pose. Movement is always related to repose. Movement and repose, how-
ever, are opposites, posited in opposition to each other. In order to be
able to intuit my hand as having moved, I must at the same time think
of it as in a state of repose; indeed, I must do both in one and the same
moment. "Existing" and "not existing" are always only two different as-
pects of one and the same thing.}
(e) We are here dealing with the purely formal side of the question
concerning the possibility of the object of reflection (i.e., we are con-
cerned with it as an act of reflection as such or in general, {as originally
preceding all other acts of reflection}).
One can reflect only upon something limited. But what is the origin of
this limited object of reflection? The problem is to understand how 26 a
manifold {or a limitation} could be contained within the original object
of reflection, i.e., within the pure will. We have a precise answer to this
question: Limitation too must be originally present, and it is just as orig-
inal as the pure will itself. The will is related to this [originaU limitation
in multiple ways; and, within this relationship, the will itself becomes
something manifold.
25
"als seiend und nicht seiend."
26 Reading, with H, "wie" forK's "'wo" ("where").
The essence of reflection is nothing more than this relation to this
synthesis, 27 which can occur or not occur, and which can occur in various
different ways. Y Thus it now becomes possible for us to understand the
previously stated claim that I am free to reflect upon whatever I want
within the manifold. [fhis is to be explained as follows: I am free to re-
late my will to the original limitation in any way that I want.} Through
this act of reflection, the will is related to its [own original] limitation in
a variety of different ways, and a manifold of objects comes into being
for reflection. Reflection {considered as something original} is a purely
synthetic power. {It is not merely passive, but is active as well; thus it is
composed of both activity and passivity.}
This proposition is crucial for our entire enterprise. {All experience, (t6o),
all consciousness,} every act of empirical willing, thinking, etc., is based
upon this synthesis of pure willing and original. limitation, {a synthesis
that occurs by means of reflection}. Both {the pure will and the original
limitation} are given to empirical consciousness and are present prior to
all consciousness. The synthesis {or the relation of the two} is not orig-
inal, however, but depends upon ;1 {free} act of reflection.
{Accordingly, this act of reflection is the original source of all empir-
ical consciousness.
This is why Kant made it the chief task of philosophy to answer the
question, "How is synthesis possible?" 28-for all empirical consciousness
consists in the synthesis of pure will and limitation.}
(~)Consciousness is possible only to the extent that it is possible for me
to view myself in several different ways or under several different as-
pects. {But how is it possible for me to observe myself under several dif-
ferent aspects? How is this condition for the possibility of consciousness
itself possible?} What we said above in section b--that I must posit my-
self, under the same aspect, as existing and as not existing, {as able to do
something and as unable to do it}-must be {simply} true; for this is a
condition for the possibility of consciousness.
My pure act of willing is presented in an intuitable form in my bodl.
My body is sensible force, which would have to be what can be viewed 9
in various ways. I would have to be able to will the same X that, under
another aspect, I would be unable to will; or (considered synthetically,
{that is, as something that has been made sensible}) I would have to be
27 "Die Sache der JU:n.EXION ist lediglich diese Beziehung auf diese Synthesis." In com-
parison with the corresponding passage in H (see the following note), the text of K ap-
pears at this point to be seriously adumbrated.
v The will is related to this [original] limitation; and, in relation to this state of limita-
tion, the will iuelf becomes something manifold-reflection comi..ts in this relation.
What then is dependent upon reflection?
Nothing but this relation of the limitation to the pure will, or this synthesis, which can
occur or not occur, and which can occur in this way or that (p. 159).
~·See the Introduction to the second edition of the Critiqlu of Pure Reastm (KRV, B•g).
29
Reading, with Krause's MS. "ansehen" forK's "anschauen."
able to do the same thing = X that, under another aspect, I would be
unable to do. Therefore, {the entire instrument,} my entire sensible force
{-my organ, my body-} must be capable of being viewed in two dif-
ferent ways. This would give us an inner and an outer organ, which
would have to be related to each other in such a way that what would
happen with the one would be something that could not happen with
the other, {so that the inner organ would be free and the outer organ
would be limited}.
{For example,} everything I perceive, all objects, are nothing more
than something that hinders my own {outer} efficacy; but only if my ef-
ficacy is present for me can I know that something is hindering it. {Every
object in space hinders my outer efficacy, that is, my ability to place an-
other object in this same space. But how do I have any knowledge of
what is not present for me? How do I know what is canceled [by the
present object]? This certainly does not lie within my consciousness [of
the external object]. Consequently, the very efficacy that is hindered
must, at the same time, be both possible for me and present for me.} My
own efficacy is not present for me through my outer organ; instead, it is
copied by the inner one.z (I cannot hear anything unless I make an in-
ternal copy of the sound.)
This is the basis of all perception. {Limitation and willing (or an in-
stance of free acting) are united in every perception. This is true of orig-
inal reflection as well. (Such reflection deserves to be called "original" (161) ·
for two reasons: in part, because consciousness begins with this act of
reflection, which has to be presupposed as temporally preceding all
other acts of reflection; and, in part, because of its content, inasmuch as
this is something new, something that was previously still unknown and
that has not arisen through abstraction or reproduction.)}
How does this original act of reflection, which everything else presu p-
poses, occur? Answer: I reflect upon my own act of willing. This appears
to me as a "doing,"!l0 and my act of willing is both possible and not pos-
sible: it is inwardly possible, but outwardly impossible. "Inwardly" and
"outwardly" refer here to my inner and outer organs, which, in turn, are
nothing but my own force or energy, viewed under two different aspects.
{These then are the two aspects of our willing: viewed from one side, it
appears as our own energy; viewed from the other, it appears as our lim-
itation-thanks to our body: for our body is nothing but an entity,!!• or
a pure act of willing that is sensibly intuited, and indeed, intuited in a
twofold manner.
z My efficacy is limited only for the outer organ; it corresponds to my inner organ-by
virtue of the reciprocal interaction of both [efficacy and the inner organ] (p. 16o).
"""diell erscheint mir als Thun."
31 "ein Wesen."
Thus my own willing appears to me as an inner doing: I-see an object;
i.e., I describe within myself its shape, its surface area, etc. I hear
sounds; i.e., I copy them within me-hence there is an inner doing.}
• Willing and doing are one and the same. As a mere object of
thought, this is an act of willing; as a mere object of intuition, it is a "do-
ing." Here we obtain the answer to the question, How is our causal
power, our efficacy in the sensible world, possible?
{This is a question no one has yet answered. To be sure, Kant an-
swered it, but his answer was not explicitly formulated as such; it is only
implicit in his argument.
One ordinarily says, "I act efficaciously in the manner in which it ap-
pears to me that I do." This, however, is a transcendent answer to our
question, and we would thereby obtain a "body in itself." But, like the
sensible world as a whole, our body is certainly nothing in itself; instead,
it is a mere appearance. It is what is intelligible, construed in accordance
with the laws of thinking and intuition.
• Our answer is as follows:} [Taken together,] willing and acting
efficaciously~ 2 are no more than willing [taken by itself].AA The percep-
tion of our own efficacy is nothing more than the perception of our pure
will, insofar as the latter has become an object of thought.
All our efficacious acting is nothing but an act of thinking. The only
thing we are able to do freely is to think, for we are nothing other than
intellects.
I cannot will anything that does not come into being. Anything I am
able to do but do not actually accomplish is something I do not will;~~ it
is a mere, impotent wish.
Kant too has answered the question concerning how our efficacy is
possible: "The power of desire is the power to become the cause of an
object by means of a concept."~4 But he does not explain the origin of
this "power of desire."
165 Your instructor employs the term "desiring" in a different sense
and opposes it to willing, as the merely ideal act of thinking of
wiiling. Kant, in contrast, employs the concept of the power of desire
to explain the genesis of both the act of willing and the power of free
choice.~ 5
02
''Wollen und Wirk.en."
AA Efficacious acting is nothing whatsoever other than willing (p. 161).
""Ich k.ann nicht wollen, was nicht wird; alles was ich nicht k.ann und nicht wirklich
thue, will ich nicht." Following Fuchs's suggestion, the translation omits the italicized nicht
(which is not italicized in the MS) from this passage.
•• See the note on this subject in the Preface to the Critique of Practical Reason (KGS, V:
gn).
" "Bei Kant ist das Begehrungsvermogen der genetische Begriff des Wollens und der
Willk.iihr."
(4) {We still have another question to answer.} As a reflecting subject, I
construct an internal description 36 of what I am unable to accomplish
externally; this is how perception first arises for me: {that is, I act
internally}. How do I obtain this cognition of my own inability to do
something? {Must I know in advance that I cannot do something?
Answer:} I know this through a feeling. But what then is the origin of this
feeling? A,feeling is an act of affecting myself, but not within time. 88
Here there are not things present, things which could exercise a certain
effect at one moment and then a different effect at some other moment.
This would be a transcendent [explanation of feeling]. Feeling as such,
or the power of feeling, is the way in which the {original} limitation of
our will is immediately related to reflection {or to the ideal activity}. The
will is originally limited; this is how it becomes {something-} a will. Yet (162)
this limitation does not [yet] exist for the I, nor does the I itself exist for
itself; the whole is [no more than] an Idea, 37 {if it is not reflected upon,
if it is not posited}.cc
• Now, however, reflection-an absolutely free act of reflection-
comes upon the scene and strives to reflect upon the will in its totality,
i.e., under both the previously indicated aspects. {It cannot do this} how-
ever; it can describe this [totality of the will] only under one of its two
aspects, namely, through that of the inner organ. 38 {Through the outer
organ, therefore,} reflection is what is limited in time, and feeling is the
immediate expression of this limitation. To the extent that I am an em-
pirical being, I feel. The power of reflection, which is limited within
time, {but is not originally limited,} is what can only be empirical. The
will is what is originally limited; thus it follows that reflection upon the
will would have to be limited,0° {and a feeling arises through this rela-
tion of reflection [to the will].
From this it follows that:}
There can be no reflection ~art from feeling, and vice versa; for it is
{only} by means of reflection 3 that the I subjects something to limita-
tion. {Therefore, if no act of reflection occurred, then neither would any
36
"beschreibe innerlich."
88 We said above that feeling is an affection of ourselves within time (p. 161 ).
37
"Diese Beschranktheit aber ist nicht fUr das lch, and das lch ist nicht fUr sich, das
ganze Idee."
cc Even the I is nothing if it is not reflected upon, if it is not posited (p. 162).
38
"DieJ3 kann sie aber nur in der einen Rucksicht, im inneren Organ beschreiben."
00
I feel; in other words, the feeling subject, which is surrendered to feeling, is the
power of reflection. The power of reflection is limited, but its limitation is not an original
one; instead, what is originally limited is the will. Reflecting, therefore, is limited only in
the act of reflection upon the will (p. 162).
39 Reading, with H, "lediglich durch das JU:FLECT11lEN" for K's "durch das Geftihl"
("through feeling"), an assertion that at least appears to conflict with everything else
Fichte has been saying in this section, as well as with the text of H.
330 § 14
limitation exist for me, nor, consequently, would any feeling exist. More-
over, if there were no feeling, there would be no limitation; and there-
fore there would be no partial or bit-by-bit grasping of the pure will-
i.e., no act of reflection.}
This principle was presented above in a different sense-in the con-
text of the relationship of dependence. Here we encounter it in the con-
text of the relationship of reciprocal interaction. 40 {Above, one could
have believed that something could well be felt in the absence of any act
of reflection.}
We have now succeeded in explaining and deriving feeling itself and
have, once again, postulated feeling as a condition for the possibility of
consciousness. Feeling might thus be said to be something primary and
inexplicable; this, however, might provide an occasion for dogmatism.EE
For one could certainly extend one's thoughts beyond this limit [repre-
sented by feeling], and then one might want to explain feeling with ref-
166 erence to things-which are supposed to affect feeling. In this way, the
I itself is41 transformed into a thing. {The Critical idealist, however, is
not allowed to remain at this point. He must explain empirical con-
sciousness. His own thinking extends beyond empirical consciousness;
he may and must pass into the realm of what is intelligible. At this point,
however, all further progress comes to an end. This is a consequence of
the nature of his reason itself, for what is intelligible is posited in ab-
straction from all the laws of thinking. Reason has here arrived at its
outermost limit.}
§ 14
The pure will is the immediate object of all consciousness and of all
reflection (§ 13). Reflection, however, is discursive; consequently, the
pure will must be a manifold. It is not originally manifold, but first be-
comes so by being related to its own {original} limitation. by means of
which it {first} becomes a will. FF This relation of the pure will to its own
limitation occurs within the act of reflection itself, which is absolutely
free; and the freedom and entire essence of this act of reflection consist
precisely in this act of relating42 {the pure will to the original limitation}.
40
"Wechselwirkung."
EE With this, our explanation and derivation of feeling would be complete, and, at the
same time, we would have provided our entire structure with a deeper underpinning.
Above, feeling was simply po<~tulated as an inexplicable starting point-though it is nev-
ertheless supposed 10 be present within empirical consciousness. But it is dogmatic to pro-
ceed in this manner (p. 162).
•• Reading, with Krause's MS, "wird" forK's "wiirde."
f"f" [ ••• ] fint becomes an acl of willing (p. 16!1).
42 Reading, with H, "Beziehen" for K's '"Beziehung" ("relation").
§ 14 33'
The freedom of this act consists, in part, in the fact that such a relation-
ship is established at all and, in part, in the fact that it occurs in this or
that way. Insofar as it is simply thought of, this act of reflection appears
as an act of willing; insofar as it is intuited, it appears as a "doing." This
same act of reflection is the foundation of all empirical consciousness.
In an individual act of such reflection, a rational being views itself in
two different ways or under two different aspects. On the one hand, it
views itself as limited; on the other, it views itself as active in describing
this limitation. The former is its outer aspect, the latter is its inner one;
and, as a result, it ascribes to itself a general organ {(a body)} consisting
of an inner and an outer organ. Feeling is the relation of limitation to
reflection. The source of the limitation is something that exists only for
the ideal activity engaged in thinking about the real activity, and the
immediate union of cognition of an object with the will is thereby
explained.GG
=And thus dte immediau: union of an object with the will is explained (p. t61j).
166 § 15
{The purpose of this review is to tie together the various things that ( 1
have been established up to this point. From now on, our path will
become more and more level, even if difficulties should still arise here
and there.}
The spirit of our philosophy is this: {nothing outside of me,} no al-
leged "thing in itself," can be an object of {my} consciousness; the only
object for me is I myself. {This is the chief maxim of transcendental ide-
alism and expresses its deepest spirit.} How can {the actual} conscious-
ness {with which we are acquainted} be explained on this assumption?
{Remark: Philosophy is concerned solely with this question, and only
insofar as it attempts to answer it is it philosophy at all It would be quite
unphilosophical-indeed, it would be absurd-to deny the facts of
consciousness.}
We can explain anything only insofar as we explain it in accordance
with the laws of our thinking, and the answer to the above question must
accord with these laws. A From this it follows that our explanation of con-
167 sciousness is also not intended to be, {as it were,} "valid in itself," {but is
valid only for us}; for 5 the question is, How can a rational being account
for its own consciousness? {Whenever one engages in any argument at
all, one must always do so in accordance with the laws of reason, and
these same laws also apply to the philosopher. For this reason, the phi-
losopher must obey these laws within transcendental philosophy as well;
for transcendental philosophy possesses no validity in itself, but only in
relationship to reason.
[ 332]
§ 15 333
Remark: Though philosophers have conducted their arguments in ac-
cordance with the laws of reason, present-day philosophers in particular
seem not to have noticed or to have discovered this fact. Consequently,
some of them have charged that one of the major errors committed by
transcendental idealism is that it proceeds in the following circle: "It is
supposed to provide an explanation and derivation of the laws of rea-
son; yet,jn order to do this, I have to proceed in accordance with these
very laws." There is no way to avoid this circle of reason; indeed, this is
precisely what shows that there is no "truth in itself."
Therefore, an explanation of consciousness also proceeds in accor-
dance with the laws of reason. We are already familiar with these
laws, including the most important one, which states that} we must, in
accordance with the laws of reflection, presuppose something deter-
minable for everything determinate. We have hitherto applied this
law to the I that is the object of our philosophical investigations. But the
philosopher himself is also an I, and thus he too is bound by this same
law. {As the original object of my own consciousness, I am something
determinate. I must connect this determinacy of myself within con-
sciousness with a determinability of myself within consciousness. I
thus possess knowledge: (1) of myself, and (2) of myself as something
simultaneously determinate and determinable. Therefore, insofar as it is
a determinate object of consciousness, the I is already something two-
fold. In addition, it is something manifold simply by virtue of its 1-hood:}
The I is for itself an object of consciousness; consequently, it is both sub-
ject and object. We now wish to relate to each other these two [aspects of
the 1: the I as subject and the I as object]. To this end, we must relate
them to each other as determinable [and not simply insofar as each is
determinate].c {In this way, from the simple I, we obtain something
fourfold:
( 1) a determinate subject;
(2) a determinate object;
(3) something determinable with relation to the subject;
(4) something determinable with relation to the object.}
• As a result, what is ideal is distinguished for us from what is real,
and this occurs [purely] in accordance with the laws of thinking. 0
"What is real" signifies only what is objective within consciousness;
"what is ideal," only what is subjective therein. Here we are considering
each of these as separately determinable, and, by thinking in this
manner, we obtain [the thought of] what is purely intelligible. {What is
c We wish to relate them to each other, and for this purpose we must presuppi:lse both
[that is, the I as subject and the I as object] as purely determinable (p. 164).
0
This occurs in accordance with the law that states: "The ideal and the real I must be
distinguished from each other by means of the laws of thinking" (p. 164).
334 § 15
1 "dieses bestimmbare ist im ganzen das ll'I'I'El-UGIBLE." I.e., the determinable whole,
which is, in mrn, determinable as a determinable subjen and a determinable object.
E Here one can see that what is imelligible is not a thing in itself; inuead, it is merely
something that-in accordance with the law that states that there can be nothing deter·
minate without something determinable-we have to posit in addition to what is deter·
minate. We must do this in order to explain what is determinate and connect it with
consciousness (p. 164).
2
See, e.g., KRV, A565iB593ff.
• "wir reden von der geistigen ObjektivitaL"
4
K: '"das erste ist das Vermogen rein, das zweite empirisch zu sein.'" H: '"das erste ein
Vermogen, empirisch zu seyn, das lezte das Vermogen, rein zu seyn." With Radrizzani
(and in accordance with the dear sense of the previous sections), the translation here fo].
§ 15 335
know that I am a subject and an object, and something determinable
pertains to each.}
We arrived at this presupposition by means of the laws of thinking,
but then {(in the preceding§)} we encountered the following difficulty: ( 166)
j) how can the pure will become a manifold for a possible act of reflection?
Our answer was: the will becomes something manifold only through be-
ing related to a limitation, which is just as original as the will itself,
{which is to say, it has to be presupposed for the purposes of a philo-
sophical explanation of consciousness}. This applies to empirical con-
sciousness as well. Considered as it is for itself, the will is purely unitary.
It becomes differentiated only by means of and in terms of the different
objects to which it is directed, and this provides the limitation in this
case. {This limitation to which the pure will is related is something man-
ifold, and thus, as a result, a manifold is contained in the union [of the
pure will and its limitation].} Reflection in its entirety consists in unify-
ing this manifold of limitation. The freedom of reflection lies in the fact
168 that the will can be related to this manifold or not related to it; i.e., it can
be related to this or it can be related to that.
Insofar as I am limited, however, there is something that I am not; but
what I am not is not present for me, {and I cannot reflect upon it}. Never-
theless, the limitation here lies outside of me. How do I become con-
scious of such a limitation? Anrwer: {There is nothing that I am not,
without at the same time being it; from one side, I am not something,
which, from the other side, I am; what I am not externally, I am inter-
nally.} [Hence] the limitation lies outside of me only in part. I am limited
externally, but I am not limited internally; I make an inner copy of my
outer limitation.
With this, however, our question has still not been completely an-
swered. We must first of all point out the difficulty that still remains and
indicate the extent to which it can be resolved. {Our answer will be short
and simple, but it will serve to illuminate fully and for the first time what
has gone before.}
{The following was said in the preceding §:} I make an inner copy of
the limitation of my outer organ. "I see an object": this means that there
is a certain space I am unable to penetrate, and I describe {internally}
the precise area that is occupied, {which is the area I am unable to
enter}. According to our theory, the inner organ is never limited, {but is
always free}. DiffiCulty: I am supposed to make an internal copy of a lim-
itation of the outer {organ), and thus of a {certain} outer acting {of this
outer organ. Yet the very concept of "copying" already indicates that I
lows H rather than K, which actually states just the reverse: "the first is the power to exist
in a pure sense; the latter, the power to exist empirically."
can make an internal copy only of something that was already present
externally, of something with which I assume that I am already
acquainted.} I cannot form an image 5 of anything with which I am un-
acquainted. I am acquainted with the will, but I am not acquainted with
this outer organ. {My organ would be the limitation of my will. Conse-
quently, it must actually be possible for me to regard this organ-even
insofar as it is an "outer" one-as my own will, as the result of my will;
yet, were I to view it in this way, no limitation would be present.
Until now, however, we have been acquainted with nothing whatso-
ever but an act of willing, and this is not any kind of outer organ.} Thus
there remains a circle, {something inexplicable}: one refers {something
inner} to a limitation of the outer organ; {and, since it is supposed to be
copied internally, this limited state of the outer organ must be some-
thing positive. Yet this limitation of the outer organ by no means occurs
as something positive; it is something purely negative.} Where does this
external organ itself come from?
The situation {with respect to the entire explanation of consciousness}
is as follows: When I perceive something, I am performing an inner act.
{For example, I see a shape in space;} the imagination produces an
{internal} sketch ofthe spatial shape, etc. 6 It is not hard to comprehend
how such a shape can be produced by my [inner] organ {once a percep- (t
tion has occurred}, but it is not at all clear how this can be accomplished
in a manner that is not supposed to be determined by the outer organ.
Nor is it clear why the results of such a process are assumed to be ob-
jective. Instead, it seems that these are merely figments of our
imagination. 7 Hence nothing is explained in this way. Solution: We can-
not remain within the realm of what can be displayed in a sensible form, 8
but must return to the transcendental viewpoint.
Overview
H The pure will is not limited by a being; instead, it originally contains within itself the
law that determines how it should limit itself throughout all time (p. 168).
1 Self-determinacy (p. 168).
J The task, therefore, is to grasp a concept that limits freedom and [to explain] how we
originally arrive at the necessity of possessing a certain concept (p. 168).
§ 15 339
accomplishing something}, while the inner organ makes a copy of what
the outer organ does not accomplish.
{Here is the difficulty: It has been said that I copy inwardly the very
thing I am unable to do outwardly. But I can copy only what was already
present. In this case, however, I am supposed to copy something inter-
nally that I cannot do outwardly. How do I obtain [knowledge of] this
inability?}
• Our response to this circle is as follows: Even this inability [of the
outer organ to accomplish something] is present only through you; it is
an inability you inflict upon yourself, and which you must think of in
this way in consequence of the necessary limitation of yourself. K It is al-
ready present in the task [you assign to yourself]. {Consequently, the (169)
outer organ proceeds from a higher, inner one. Here again we have an
opportunity to observe the difference between the manner in which the
idealist operates and that of the dogmatist.} The dogmatic philosopher
{explains everything from the outside in: he} proceeds toward the inside,
{from the periphery to the center}. The transcendental idealist [begins
at the center and] describes the radii leading toward the periphery. {He
shows that we explain everything from the inside, that} everything
comes from within; it is of no use to presuppose external things, as we
saw in the previous §.
General illustration (added purely for the purposes of clarity):
{I must view myself in a double light [in terms of my inner and of my
outer organ]. Moreover, as we remarked above, neither of these ways of
viewing myself can be intuited. I observe my outer organ only through
the medium of the inner one. I am limited in my outer aspect, and this
limitation is given to me as a task 13 of limiting myself and is nothing but
a self-limitation. For example,} if I want to hear someone, {I have to copy
his words, and therefore} I must not speak. I am not physicaUy compelled
to avoid speaking; the compulsion is only hypothetical, a goal that is a
consequence of a self-assigned 14 task, {i.e., to hear}. What is limited is
the external organ of speech, but the limitation in question cannot be
explained physically.
Results:
(1) AIJ external influence is completely eliminated, for otherwise we
would be dogmatists. The task of limiting myself in a certain way is
present within me. {The outer limitation is first thought of when the
task of freely limiting myself in a certain way is present.} I freely describe
K This inability is not an inability that exists without our participation. On the contrary,
it is something we inflict upon ourselves through the limitation. We must think of our-
selves in this way, because this is the only way we can think of ourselves as limited (p. t6g).
1
~ Reading "AufgabeM for H's "Aufsage" ("saying~).
14
Reading "selbst zugefiigten" for K's "selbst angefiigten~ ("self-attached"). Cp. H:
"eine Aufgabe die ich mir selbst zufilge."
this limitation. The fact that l have any knowledge of this [limitation] is
an aspect of my outer power; insofar as I copy this limitation, this is an
aspect of my inner power.L
(2) The outer organ is given to me by means of this task, for the outer
organ is the ideal aspect of the {task of determinate} limitation. {The
task of positing an outer organ is original, and is fulfilled just as surely
17 1 as l posit myself.} The outer organ is already contained in our very task
of limitation, and it must be posited in consequence of this task. The
point is to explain everything by beginning at the center; we must show
that the dogmatist's way of looking at things is not required.
Experience could never teach us that we have a body. That we have a
body and that it is ours is something we have to know in advance, as a
condition for the possibility of all experience and of all acquisition of
k.nowledge.M This [knowledge of our body] is a product of mere think-
ing; only later does the body become an object of perception.
{For example, if I want to see my eye, l must already possess the power
of vision, as well as an eye. Moreover, l must be able to open my eye and
direct it. Nor is this necessity (that l must have an eye, that l must be able
to open and direct it) an acquired one; instead, it is present simulta- ( 1
neously with myself. Similarly, in the case of my hand: l must have a
hand if I want to move it in a certain direction, etc. These instruments
force themselves. upon me originally. They are products of my thinking,
and they can be perceived by means of another act of perception.}
(2) The difficulty has now been removed. The outer organ must be
present {as determined for me and by me, for otherwise no conscious-
ness of any determination of this organ would be possible}, and we have
explained how this is possible: This outer organ is present only insofar as
I myself restrict it, insofar as a concept of this outer organ is present in
advance of any restriction of the same. This concept is given to me
through the task of restricting the outer organ,N and this task is a prod-
uct of my pure will. N.B.: we are here discussing nothing but an effect of
L Inasmuch as I limit myself or describe this limitation, l adopt an ext=nal view of my
own power; insofar as I make a copy of this same limitation, I adopt an inlernal view of my
own power (p. 16g).
~ Thus we do not require the experience described by the dogmatist; i.e., nothing has
to be given: for to posit my outer organ, along with the determinacy of the same, is a task.,
one which is, from the very beginning, accompanied by its own accomplishment. There-
fore, we do not learn or acquire the knowledge that we possess a body." This is something
we [must already] know, and such knowledge is a condition for the possibility of all learn-
in~ and of all experience (p. 16g).
5
Reading, with K, "Leib" for H's "Linie" ("line").
N The outer organ is itself present for me. lt is restricted only insofar as I restrict it. If,
however, I am supposed to restrict it, then l must already be acquainted with it as some-
thing I am supposed to restrict. But this cognition of the outer organ is given to me
through and along with the task of restricting the same (p. 170).
§ 15 34 1
what is free upon what is free. (The fact that one must also view this
outer organ as dependent upon something external is, again, merely an-
other aspect of the outer organ. See below.)
{I hear only to the extent that I listen, and I specifically notice some-
thing only to the extent that I pay attention and to the extent that I am
free in this attentiveness. I possess an outer organ only by virtue of the
fact that I am limited and think of myself as having to limit myself as an
I. This outer organ, however, is constrained and limited by the inner or-
gan; and it is also, in the present context, constrained by something ex-
ternal. For example, my outer organ is constrained and limited by the
inner organ when I listen; on the other hand, I would not hear anything
at all unless some sounds were present. Consequently, if I am to hear
anything, my outer organ must also be limited by something external.}
• The inner organ is the soul; the outer organ is the body. {In the re-
lationship in which we have just posited them, the soul is supposed to be
able to set the body in motion and to control it. From the transcendental
point of view,} these are simply two different aspects of the I. The soul
arises when I make myself sensible through the form of inner intuition;
the body arises when {the same original something} is made sensible
through outer and inner intuition at the same time.
• The ultimate source of limitation is {a certain} concept {that I am
supposed to describe}, and it is through this concept that intuition enters
my entire world. 0 {Here we have arrived at the point we have been
seeking.} From the practical point of view, what is primary is the origi-
nal, pure will. The pure wiii expresses itself through goal concepts-
though not of the sort we were unable to explain above, {[i.e.,] goal
concepts that presuppose cognition of a manifold,} but rather through
goal concepts that simply exist, as primary and absolutely imposing
themselves {upon us}.P {It is through such concepts that we are deter-
mined.} A concept of this sort (which is a noumenon) is sensibly realized
in the form of our inner and outer organs and, {as we shall see,} in the
form of the sensible world. Here the transcendental philosopher
touches rock bottom. He must base his explanation 16 upon absolute con-
cepts, concepts that do not presuppose any others for their own expla-
nation.Q These absolute concepts are concepts of a goal, which
nevertheless must appear to be something objective, for it lies within my
0
This [concept] is the origin of both feeling and intuition, the source oft he entire world
and of the system of the Not-I (p. 170).
P The pure will expresses itself through goal concepts that simply exist and that, being
primary, force themselves upon us (p. 170).
16 Reading "er mull [ ... ] erkHiren" for K's "er mull [ ... ] erklart werden."
QOne wants to explain the determinations of consciousness on the basis of what is in-
telligible. Concepts of the sort we have been discussing are what is intelligible, and they
actually do explain the determinations of consciousness (pp. 170-7 1).
342 § 15
own nature that I am supposed to grasp these concepts. {No concept lies (171)
within me in, as it were, a finished and complete form, as something that
172 I merely have to seek out when I need it.} It is sheer nonsense to claim
this-or at least to assert it didactically. This concept arises only insofar
as I pr~uce it, {and I exist only when I bring the concept into
existence}. To say that "it imposes itself upon me" means that the task of
producing this concept is contained within my own nature, as soon as I
engage in reflection. {Accordingly, if I exist then I certainly produce this
concept.} I must engage in reflection, however, if I am to have any con-
sciousness at all!
{We had to address the following difficulty: I discover myself to be ex-
ternally limited, and I make an internal copy of this external limitation.
Thus I internally accomplish something that I am unable to accomplish
externally. How did I become aware that I am externally unable to do
something? I have knowledge of this inability, of this limitation, only to
the extent that I am conscious of assigning this limitation to myself. All
consciousness begins with this; consequently, my consciousness has its
origin in a concept [that assigns me the task] of limiting myself. The
limitation in question thus lies in this concept, not in anything external
to me.}
• Therefore, the limitation we have been discussing, {the limitation
from which consciousness starts, is not inflicted upon me; it} is one I as-
sign to myself, in consequence of a concept that is originally present
within me. One would thus {at this point} be able to begin an account of
the origination of consciousness:
I reflect (upon myself) in accordance with the determining ground 17
{contained within feeling}. We cannot inquire concerning the form [of
this act of reflection], for it is an act that occurs freely; or, {to express the
same thing in sensible terms,} we cannot account for the starting point
{of [our] empirical life}. I must grasp a certain limitation of myself, how-
ever, {a concept} that contains the task of limiting myself. R This concept
is the internal condition for the possibility of reflection, {and without it
no act of reflection whatsoever would occur}. But I cannot ask why it is
that I grasp precisely {this limiting concept}-[ why] Y, rather than not-Y,·
17
.. nach dem BestimmungsGrunde ...
R A history of consciouness could begin at this point, which we also wish to do, and in the
following way:
I reflect (upon myself) in accordance with the determining ground contained within
feeling. This reflection is not called into question, since it occurs freely. To express this
same thing in sensible terms: I cannot account for the origin of my empirical life; I cannot
engage in an act of reflection unless I grasp a concept that assigns me a task, a concept that
contains within itself a task for me: the task of limiting mys.elf (p. 171).
§ 15 343
for the ground of this lies within freedom. The original state of the lim-
ited, empirical I is to be engaged in copying {a limitation of} its own will,
{in the manner just described. (See Foundations of Natural Right.)} 18
§ 15
But a limitation is not a limitation of the I, and does not exist for the
I, unless it is one the I assigns to itself. Accordingly, the original limita-
tion of the will can signify nothing but a task for the I: the task of lim-
iting its own will. The distinctive harbinger of this task within empirical
consciousness can be nothing other than a concept that demands a spe-
cific self-limitation, and it is by grasping this concept that feeling and
intuition first arise. Consequently, all consciousness begins with the act
of thinking of something purely intelligible.
18
See §§ 1-3 of Fichce's Grund/4ge des Na/.urrechts (SW, Ill: 17-40).
§ 16
Two questions now arise, each of which can be answered only by and
in terms of the other. At this point, however, purely systematic interests
173 are less important than comprehensibility, and therefore we will now di-
vide our inquiry {and treat these questions separately, one after the (1
other}, though the results of these separate investigations will coincide.
A We could certainly show, in a historical fashion, that this "something" is a rational be-
ing outside of me. Here too we start not with a sensible world, but rather with an intelli·
gible, spiritual being, which is viewed as something that has been made sensible (p. 172).
1
"Die Sinnlichkeit ist nur Versinnlichung, nichts urspriingliches."
[ 344]
§ J6 345
thought is the starting point of experience. For the time being, however,
we will set aside this question [concerning the content of this original
concept].
• {Another question now arises: How} is a continuous consciousness
{of the manifold} connected with this starting point? How does the se-
ries of successive representations {which is present in our consciousness}
come into being? This question concerns the formal [side of our original
concept of self-limitation], and this is the question we will address in this
§. {We want to address this question first, since we have hitherto been
discussing the formal conditions of consciousness, and thus we will re-
main within the same sphere.}
(2) All a free being's cognition, however, is necessarily related to its own
willing and acting; therefore, a mere consciousness of beings cannot oc-
cur originally and in isolation. {(It is very important at this point to know
precisely which relationship we are considering.)}
• Onec cannot have any cognition {whatsoever} unless, in acting, one
directs oneself toward the cognition in question. All cognition is practi-
cal, not only with respect to what occasions it, {or from the side of its
origin,} but also in relation to {its subsequent employment, or from the
side of its relationship to} subsequent acting. Being and acting stand in
an uninterrupted relationship of reciprocal interaction; indeed, they
are, {from the transcendental point of view,} the same thing, simply (1
viewed from two different sides. {Immediate consciousness is conscious-
ness of nothing but willing and acting;} purely objective thinking (i.e.,
purely sensible cognition) is connected only synthetically with our con-
sciousness of willing and acting. The point of synthetic unification is as
follows: Whatever is merely cognized (i.e., being) is always what is de-
terminable; willing is always what is determinate. What is determinable
and what is determinate are inseparably united; therefore, all cognition
{-just as surely as it is supposed to be my cognition-} would have to be
a cognition of something determinable by my will.
• The result is as follows: What is cognized in the first moment of all
consciousness is necessarily viewed as an object that presents our free
8
Therefore, consciousness of a mere being (p. 173).
c A free being (p. 173).
§ 16 347
will with a choice. (The object was represented above as something that
limits and hinders [the activity of the 1]. These various different ways of
looking at the object will eventually be united.) Consequently, some-
thing of this sort, i.e., something determinable for and by a choice, is
necessary for the possibility of the concept of a goal; for the latter is the
particular dete_~minacy that results from what is determinable. We have
long been acquainted with the form of the concept of a goal, but we were
unable to understand how any manifold could present itself for the l's
175 choice in the absence of any empirical cognition. 0 The solution is as fol-
lows: The required cognition is originally given [to us]. {The manifold
that is present for empirical cognizance is originally present; it imposes
itself upon us. It is something intelligible, in consequence of the very na-
ture of pure reflection within consciousness.}
erste." The term Potenz. ("power"), originally adopted from scientific and mathematical us-
ages, became current as a technical philosophical term in the philosophical discussions of
the Jena circle in the late •7gos and is closely associated with Schelling's Naturphilosophie.
It first appeared in print (in this sense) in '799· Its occurrence in this passage (in both H
and K) is cited by the editors of AA IV, 2 as evidence that the Halle transcript (like the
Krause version) stems from 1798/99· This claim, however, has since been undermined by
juha Manninen's discovery that Fichte was freely employing this term in his lectures on
logic and metaphysics in the summer of 1798 (as transcribed by the Swedish student
B. K. H. Hoijer). Hence it is surely possible that he might also have used it in his lectures
on WLnm during the winter semester of •797/98. See Manninen, "Hoijer und Fichte," es-
pecially pp. 269-73, which include a good discussion of the special meaning of the term
Polenz in Fichte's lectures.
H [ ••• ] determined through thinking of a concept of having to limit myself (through my
individuality) (p. 175).
9 "dadurch da~ etwas {aus ihm} aufgefa~t wird."'
350 § 16
(4) How is the act of reflection we have just described possible? It is pos-
sible only in such a way that the cognition involved in a limitation
brought about by a concept, {that is, the cognition of a concept of indi-
viduality, which limits me,} is itself impossible apart from an act of will-
ing-and vice versa. The latter point, {that willing is possible only by
means of cognition,} is clear and is valid for all consciousness} But the
first half of this statement, that cognition is impossible without willing,
can be thought of only as follows: An act of willing would have to be
contained within the cognition in question, and all that would be
grasped within such cognition would be the {given} determinability of
the act of willing. {I.e., we are not free to choose whether we will view
the matter in this particular manner or not;} willing could not be un-
derstood in any other way. {Expressed differently,} the concept that is
here involved is that of a summons {to willing, a summons} to free
activity. 10
({Here is revealed a side of our system which is easy [to grasp]:} What
is intelligible is the only original, {immediate object of consciousness and
it is given along with me myself}. The sensible world is only a certain
aspect or way of looking at what is intelligible. At this point we are not
concerned with the sensible world, though later on we will explain how
the intelligible world is transformed into the sensible world. 11 The ques-
tion here is, To what extent is what is intelligible determinate?
• What is supposed to lie at the foundation is not an empirical act of
willing, but rather a pure will-reason as such or the realm of reason in
its absoluteness, which has remained unintelligible up to this point. This
177 is what is determinable as something determinate, which, as an individ-
K I cognize this determinacy {of the realm of rational beings] as individuality; conse-
quenr..ly, I cognize myself as an individual (p. 176).
12
"ist Aufforderung zur freien Tatigkeit.~
I! K: "diese kommt her und wird so beurtheilt von einem and ern verniinftigen Wesen
meinesgleichen.~ H: "diese Aufforderung kllmmt her, (so wird es DEDUCIRT werden) von
[ ... ]."
14
... einer Vernunft."
L The first cognition (p. 177).
15
Reading, with H, "der Aufforderung zufolge" for K's "nach dem Willen" ("in accor-
dance with the will'1·
352 § 16
[Part One]
For some time now it has been our task to assemble, according to the
now familiar rules, the conditions of consciousness, {which we have ( 178f:
established,} and, as it were, to construct consciousness before our very
eyes-though not in the manner of the geometer, who does not concern
himself with the source of his ability to draw lines or worry about the
origin of space, A and whose science presupposes the Wi.ssenschaftslehre.
179 The Wissenschaftslehre has to provide itself with the means it employs [in
its construction of consciousness], and, in this respect, the system con-
sists of precisely two pans: Up until the point where we showed that the
pure will is the true object of consciousness {[and] the foundation of ev-
erything else (that is, until approximately§ 13)}, our task was to identify
the means by which we were supposed to proceed, {that is, the condi-
tions from which consciousness was supposed to be constructed}. The
second part of our system began at that point, and here we are engaged
in the actual process of constructing [consciousness]. Our field of in-
quiry, as well as our foundation, has been established; what we have to
do now is outline the method we will be following and then apply it. We
have assembled [consciousness] as follows:
We began with {the assembly of} the sheer cognition {of an ideal
object}, as the starting point of {all} consciousness. {We spoke of an act of
reflection and showed how this act of reflection divided,} and then, {in
the preceding §,} we added that such cognition is impossible apart from
an act of willing, i.e., apart from something posited as willing by a ra-
tional being, something that is supposed to be no more than an appear- ( 17g;u ,,
ance. {Thus an empirical act of willing is also an appearance of an inner
A Thus we are now proceeding exactly like the geometer, who constructs figures in
space, without worrying about where he obtained the lines and the space (p, 178)
[ 354]
§ 17 355
force or energy that hovers above and transcends the empirical act. 1
From the empirical point of view, however, this same act appears to be
an actual act of willing, and this appearance is entirely justified and may
not be called into question.} Hence, {in consequence of this
determination,} something {outside of me} is connected with the cogni-
tion that was first described; and we also have to describe a constantly
flowing series or stream of consciousness. What then is actually the ob-
ject that is supposed to be assumed to lie outside of us? What we are here
concerned with is, first of all, an act of going outside of ourselves. At this
point we must proceed to a strict deduction and must determine the pre-
viously established point in more detail: what sort of "external object" is
contained in the cognition described {in the previous §}?
I
plete at this point? We have to show {how [and]} why one moment of
consciousness {necessarily} becomes connected with another and how a
continuous series comes into being. This general problem is here
present in a quite specific and sharply defined form. {We here have the
first moment of consciousness: our summons to act freely, to which we
connect an actual instance of acting. This, quite properly, raises the fol-
lowing question: Why do we proceed beyond this first moment, beyond
the mere summons, and posit something else as well? Why does this
summons, by itself, not constitute a complete state of consciousness?
This is a very important question for us, because we not only have to
explain the starting point of consciousness but must also provide an ac-
count of its subsequent development. Let us now go back and analyze
what we have already said.}
F To think of willing to move one's hand is to think of a concept of a goal. When I think
that my hand actually moves, this act of perceiving involves an objective concept (p. 18~).
0 Determinability is an oscillation between opposed moments of reflection; determinacy
is the concentration of this oscillation upon a single point (p. 182).
determinacy that also comes from your own freedom, though you do not
reflect upon this fact)."
L Thus we have here thinking in its entirety, as well as the manifold of the same (p. 187).
26
"das lch wird zwischen beides hineingesezt als vereinigend."
which we view everything in time; but the subject who looks through
this glass is not in time. This subject is something supersensible, even
though it can observe itself only through this very same glass, and thus
can discover itself only insofar as it discovers itself within time. At this
point it becomes dear that all thinking occurs within time, including the
act of thinking by means of which I construe myself.}
Every aq of my thinking in which I actually construe myself is an act
of thinking of an I, M which {in accordance with the laws of thinking}
contains within itself a manifold: the concept of a goal as well as acting.
By means of my thinking, the concept of a goal and acting are (1) dis-
tinguished from each other and (2) posited in a certain relationship to
each other. In what relationship? In a relationship of determinability to
determinacy, or in a relationship of dependence. This is a temporal re-
lationship, for what is determinable precedes what is determinate, and
186 the concept of a goal precedes an act of willing. {Let us apply this here: ( 188)
We can all engage in an act of willing. Here we find ourselves affected as
deliberating, and then we make some decision. Time is already present
here; the act of deliberation precedes the actual decision. Does my de-
cision actually occur within time?} Does the [deliberation] really precede
the [act of] the will? 27 {If I adopt the ordinary point of view, the answer
is obvious: of course the decision occurs within time. But it looks quite
different from the transcendental point of view.} The real truth of the
matter, as judged by pure reason, is this: no, 28 [deliberation does not
precede the act of willing]; willing and deliberating, along with there-
lationship I posit them to have to each other, are all mere appearances.
My consciousness begins not with willing, nor with the concept of a goal,
nor with the perception of an object; instead, it begins with all these [at
once). It is all these things, and it is only within experience that I first
separate them. N Different colors are produced when a single ray of light
shines through a prism. No one claims that the ray of light itself consists
of these various colors; instead, it is something simple, which becomes
differentiated and dispersed by the prism. Accordingly, one may also tol-
erate talk about the ideality of space {as a form of intuition, by means of
which we posit objects in space}; but {it is far less obvious that time itself
is only a form, which first arises only through the division of the undif-
ferentiated ray of the intellect, [and that]} when one turns to time and is
., [ ..• ] is an act of thinking of an X (p. 187).
21
~1st wiirklich erst Entschlull als WiUe." Reading, with Radrizzani, "Du.IBEKATION" for
"Entschlull" (~decision"), a reading supported by the context, as well as by the parallel pas-
safe
8
in H.
"bedeutet wiirklich Wahrheit von der reinen Vernunft, so ist [die] Anwort: nein.''
N My conS<:iousness can begin with none of these, taken individually; it must proceed
from them all. In fact, they are originally only one; but, since I proceed from this starting
point, I distance myself from the primordial point of consciousness, inasmuch as I view
this through the glass of sensible representation and divide it (p. 188).
supposed to examine it, here too there is nothing but a single ray, which
is not in any time, and that a temporal expanse also first arises only by
means of such a prism: our own power of representation. Yet one must
comprehend this point.
{Those who will not concede that time is a form of intuition can be
quite bewildered by the following:} It is, for example, certainly true that
the events in the world are connected with one another as causes and
effects. But no time whatsoever is contained within the concept of cau-
sality, for the effect is absolutely simultaneous with the cause. Even if we
think of causality as a merely mechanical relationship, the connection
[with the effect] does not come after the cause itself. When my finger
presses upon something, a depression is simultaneously produced. Ev-
erything that exists is an effect of some cause and is simultaneous with
this cause. But what about this cause itself? It is, in turn, an effect of
some other cause, and so on, ad infinitum. No time comes into being in
this way; everything is present in a single stroke. {Thus there is no time
at all, because there is no succession whatsoever between the cause and
the effect.} What then is the origin of the time with which we are nev-
ertheless familiar? It arises because we are unable to think of a cause and
an effect at the same time, but proceed from the one to the other. This
is how thinking produces time, though this is accomplished not by think-
ing alone, but rather by the original act of intuiting an act of thinking,
{namely, the act of thinking of a cause and an effect}. We obtain the var-
ious temporal relations by analyzing the concepts produced thereby.
{Time, therefore, is and remains a form of intuition.}
Both synthesis and analysis are present at the beginning of conscious-
ness, and it is by means of analysis that a manifold comes into being
{within consciousness}. There can be no first moment of consciousness,
at least none that could be cognized as such, for every moment of con-
sciousness is always part [of a larger whole]. 29 {Instead, a second mo-
ment is always connected with the first one, in accordance with the laws
of consciousness; for every moment of consciousness is an instance of
acting, and for every instance of acting I must always presuppose a con-
cept of a goal. Consequently, for every moment of consciousness I must
presuppose another, in which the concept of a goal was constructed. (181
Consciousness is a continuous and coherent whole.} Let us say that a
child first becomes conscious at moment X, which would thus constitute
the first moment [of his consciousness]. He discovers himself to be a will-
ing subject, but he cannot account for this without presupposing an-
other moment Y, {the moment at which he grasped the concept of a
goal}. Consequently, though X is the first moment of the child's con-
sciousness in the eyes of God, for the child himself it is not the first mo-
momenl of will through the mere appearance [of the same] 110 An act of
deliberating or selecting does occur, but this is something I posit in ad-
dition to the actual determination of myself, so that the latter can be said
to precede the act of willing.
• One could divide transcendemal idealism imo an "idealism of inner
sense" and an "idealism of outer sense," i.e., an idealism of space and an
idealism of time.P {The first part is much easier to grasp than the sec-
ond, and will therefore also be acceptable to many people. But many will
find it much more difficult to obtain emrance imo the second pan, even
though this has to be accepted if the first pan is to have a solid foun-
dation. Until now we have been trying to show that our consciousness is
not discursive insofar as it is outside of all time, but instead becomes dis-
cursive only by being dispersed over time. Consciousness begins with
consciousness of a summons, though this too can be thought of only in (19'
order to explain consciousness.} In short, in the course of the develop-
ment of consciousness it appears that what conditions {our} will is some-
thing that lies within us. At the poim where {consciousness of our}
individuality commences, [however,] what conditions the will appears to
lie outside of us in another rational being. {In this way, individual reason
generates itself from reason xm: e!;oX,t]K. 31 }
{We began with a representation of the summons to act freely-a rep-
resentation that we presupposed. We said, "I discover myself to be sum-
moned.'' We considered the meaning of the words "I discover myself"
\
\ and explained what sort of "I" is discovered in this case. "I" signifies the
identity of the object and the subject. I-hood can consist only in the fact
that a subjective act of thinking ( = "thinking") and an objective one
( = "willing") appear as one and the same act of thinking ( = "synthetic
thinking"). We will not here discuss that act of thinking within which
willing and the goal (or the act of thinking of a goal) appear as two sep-
arate acts of thinking, even though it is true that no act of synthetic
thinking can exist in consciousness apart from an act of analytic
thinking.}
concerns the form of this act; it does not concern itself with what this act
is materU1liter.) In this act of choosing, the I itself is merely what is de-
terminable; it possesses no determinacy. It does not ascribe to itself any
determinate causal power, that is, any particular power to bring about
this or that {specific} result; instead, it simply presupposes that it pos- (1~
sesses an overall ability to exercise causality.
If one wishes to take note of [the distinction between] "abstract" and
"concrete" perceptions,38 then one could say that the moment when the
concept of a goal is grasped is an instance of the former. What is in-
volved here is a conc~t of my own overall efficacy, 39 not a perception of
any specific efficacy. This is the form in which I discover myself when
I construct a concept of a goaL {Here} the I is thought of merely as such
1 91 or in general; this is an abstract act of thinking, {the essence of which con-
sists in the fact that all that is present here is the form of determinate
thinking-not, however, any determinacy}. It40 is an act of oscillating be-
tween or hovering above opposites-yet all the while remaining con-
scious that these are opposites {and that, therefore, only one of them can
be chosen}. This is precisely the sort of thinking in which I engage when
I construct the concept of a goal for myself. The character of the object
follows from the act of thinking thereof, however, for, {from a Critical
point of view,} an act of thinking and its object are simply two different
ways of looking at one and the same thing. {The object of our abstract
act of thinking was the I, which was therefore just as abstract as the act
of thinking of the object was. The real I 41 oscillates between opposites,
yet in such a way that one is chosen and all the rest are excluded.}
• Everyone will agree, simply on the basis of ordinary common sense
and without any need for recourse to philosophicaJ principles, that no
abstract thinking is possible apart from concrete thinking, {which seems,
so to speak, to precede the former}; abstraction presupposes something
within which what is to be abstracted is first present. Accordingly, the act
of willing presupposed here is something l can infer only insofar as I
the free act of the ideal activity? {p. 194).
•• K: wMan wolle doch ja ABSTRACTIONEN und CONCRETE Wahrheiten bemerlc.en." IJu:r-
ally: "Let us indeed take note of abstractions and of concrete truths." The translation sub-
stitutes, with H, "Wahrnehmung" for K's "Wahrheiten" {"truths") and emends the rest of
the sentence in the light of the more coherent corresponding passage in H: "Man unter-
scheide unter ABSTRACTER und CONCRET£R Wahrnehmung."
~ 9 "meiner Wiirksamkeit iiberhaupt."
w One should distinguish between abstract and concrete perception. Concrete perception
occurs as a result of an exercise of the will, whereas Q/Jstracl perception occurs in the very
act of willing. Whenever one chooses anything, one always takes note of the fact that one
could also have willed something else. Therefore, choosing always makes reference to a
doing, which is, therefore, always presupposed in the form of an abstract concept of effi-
cacy in gener.Jl, and this abstract concept of efficacy must be posited if a concept of a goal
is to be possible {p. 194).
40
"Es." This could be construed as referring either to "the act of thinking" or to "the 1."
41 "das reelle Ich."
§ 17 377
have already encountered it in concreto. 42 Abstract thinking {(the sort of
thinking involved in constructing a concept of a goal)} is, {in turn,} re-
lated to {another,} concrete act of thinking {(that is, to an act of willing)},
and the former is related to the latter in the same way what is condi-
tioned is related to what conditions it. 4 g {The act of thinking of a concept
of a goal presupposes an act of willing and an efficacious acting; and I
can presuppose these only insofar as I have already sensed and per-
ceived myself to be engaged in willing and acting efficaciously.}
• {Result: Actual} willing presupposes a concept of a goal, and, in turn,
the concept of a goal presupposes an {actual} act of willing-which, in
turn, presupposes a concept of a goal, and so on, ad infinitum. {In this
way,} therefore, we reach no starting point {of consciousness}; one mo-
ment drives us on to the next, as happened above in the case of [there-
lationship between] the concept of cognition and the concept of a goal.x
The present circle, however, lies even deeper than the previous one.
{Here the concept of a goal not only presupposes cognizance of an ob-
ject, it also presupposes cognizance of a subject, namely, of the subject
here engaged in efficacious acting; and this cognition first becomes pos-
sible through a preceding act of actual willing.}
• {We reply to this difficulty as follows:} We have already shown that (195)
one cannot speak of a series of thoughts and their succession [in time] as
if this were something that exists in itself; instead, we can talk only about
an appearance of succession for us. Thus we only think of ourselves as
thinking in time; we are not actually in time. {I can say, "I do not [actu-
ally] think in the manner just described; I only think of myself as think-
ing in this manner when I am engaged in synthetic thinking."} In the act
of synthetic thinking = C, I posit myself as, I discover myself to be, a
subject engaged in willing. I posit A as preceding this act (i.e., A is pre-
supposed by C). 45 Hence it is no wonder that I posit in A whatever is
42
"In a concrete form."
'""wie Bedingung zum Bedingten" ("in the same way that a condition is related to what
is conditioned"). Since this claim appears to conflict direcdy with what is asserted in the
preceding and following sentences, the translation, following Radrizzani's proposal, inverts
this clause.
x Here we have, once again, the same difficulty as before: no concept of a goal.,. without
cognition of an object, and vice versa-though now we encounter it from another side
(p.•94>·
.,. "Inbegriff." From here on, the term lnhegriff (in the sense of "the concept in ques-
tion") is occasionally employed in H to refer to "the concept of a goal" (Zweclrhegriff), and
certain otherwise virtually identical passages in K and H differ only in that K has Zweck-
begriffwhere H has lnhegriff. (Cp., e.g., H, p. 204: "Nun wird in demselben Acte der ent-
worfene Inbegrif mit gedacht," and K, p. 197: "nun wird in demselben Acte das Entwerfen
des Zweckbegriffs mitgedacht.") This small but interesting difference appears to support
the conclusion that H and K stem from different semesters.
45
"diesem setze ich A voraus." This is a good example of the inadequacy of the custom-
ary translation of vorau.ssetzen as "to presuppose" which obscures the root meaning: "to
posit in advance."
contained in C. I do this because A is nothing more than the act of think-
ing of constructing the concept of a goal. I posit A as the cause of C in
a purely forO)al sense, 46 without thereby intending to ascribe any deter-
minate causality to A.
Part Two
Preliminary Remark
Within the act of synthetic thinking a manifold is thought of {not syn-
thetically, but} as a multiplicity of discrete {acts of thinking}. In asserting
this, however, we hovered above the act of synthetic thinking itself,
which was the object [of our thinking). Let us now descend to the stand-
point of synthetic thinking itself, which should become the subjective el-
ement that we imitate. The manifold is now to be considered as such,
{[i.e.,] as multiple and discrete,} and we will focus our attention upon the
characteristic differences {between the various acts of thinking united in
synthetic thinking}. We must now 49 constantly keep an eye on the points
of unity between each of these acts of thinking and all the others, {and in
this way we will again discover the act of synthetic thinking. In conjunc-
tion with our previous analysis of synthetic thinking, we assumed an act
of synthetic thinking as something with which we were already familiar
(= A), which we then proceeded to dissolve into its cqnstituent parts. We
now wish to examine these individual elements more closely and to ob-
00
We have two propositions: ( 1) Self-consciousness is one with all other consciousness;
(2) Self-consciousness is the identity of thinking and being. It is the first of these propo-
sitions which has to be demonstrated here (p. 198).
49 Reading, with H, "nun" forK's "nur" ("only").
serve how each of them is incomplete on its own and becomes complete
only through something else.} In this manner, we will once again arrive
at the act of synthetic thinking and will reassemble from its parts the act
that we have gone through merely analytically.
195 (2) Here we begin our examination of the real series. To make our ac-
count easier to follow, let us designate the central synthesis, {[that is,] the
synthetic period,} A; let us designate the immediately adjacent, real el-
ement h; and let us designate the extreme or outermost real term on this
side, which is connected to h, g. Looking at the other, {ideal} side of the
synthesis, let us designate the immediately adjacent {ideal} element l3
and the outermost {ideal} element, {which is connected to tJ,} as y. Let us
now reflect upon h as a particular act of thinking: the act of thinking of
a real object [ = g] that is supposed to be produced by the causality of the
will. Considered in this way, his obviously an act of real thinking. 5 5 We
FF First of all, we must consider what is contained in this a, and then we mwt treat thill
a as a point within the entire synthesis. This is of paramount imponance, for it is in this
way that we will be able to see how a is connected with the rest of the parts and how the
synthetic period ( = A) is produced thereby. Consequendy, we must observe what is con-
tained in a and how this is connected with everything else (p. ~oo).
51 "der eigentliche Bestandtheil von A ist das zulezt hestimmt."
"' uso ist der Zweckbegriff und die Unvollstlindigkeit des Willens <nach> der er nicht
a us sich selbst erklart werden kann ist das bedingende zum Willen." The translation of this
obscure passage is conjectural. Radriu.ani construes it as follows: "what conditions the will
is the concept of a goal and the incompleteness of the will, which is what makes it impos-
sible to account for the will on the basis of itself alone."
""eines REALEN Denkens." I.e., this is an act of thinking which has as its object some·
thing real (rather than something ideal, such as a concept of a goal). As Fichte explains
below, the immediate object of all "real thinking" is a feeling.
must distinguish this act of thinking, considered by itself, 54 from that
through which it is connected with something else, {[namely,] with the
other acts of thinking}. This act itself is not difficult to describe: [when-
ever we think of a real object,] we discover that our thinking is con-
strained, {and feels itself to be constrained, because this is an act of real
thinking}. A certain feeling is connected with b, and, in relation to the
act of thinking, this is a feeling of having to think in a certain way. This
feeling is supposed to produce a certain act of thinking: the thought that
this feeling could not be produced simply by thinking, etc. (See above.)
{As we already know, we are now involved in the synthesis of what we
previously analyzed. We spoke of a first, real element, which is attached
to the synthetic period. This element was b. We have already indicated
what is supposed to be thought of within b: namely, a real object that is
brought into being by the causal power of our will. This raises the ques-
tion: through what does b become an act of real thinking? This occurs by
virtue of a feeling that is connected with the act of thinking. Every in- (20 1)
dividual element of the act of synthetic thinking thus contains some-
thing twofold:
(1) The actual act of thinking.
(2) That through which this act of thinking is connected to the other
acts of thinking.
This is precisely the situation with this act of thinking ( = b), as we
have already shown.}
What kind of thinking is connected with and conditions the act of
thinking we have just described and connects it with the [synthetic] pe-
riod[= A]?
What connects b to A is the fact that the I is supposed to determine
this object [the object that is thought of in b] by means of the concept of
a goal. {Or, expressed in a popular fashion: an object is connected with
self-consciousness only insofar as the object in question is supposed to be
produced and determined by me. Thinking of an object is thus a medi-
ated act of thinking.} What mediates 55 {thinking}, generally speaking,
{and in this specific case, is the I, thought of as a subject that determines
an object by means of its concept of a goal. This} is the medium through
which the I views the object and is, so to speak, the eye [of the I].
{The transcendental philosopher expresses this point as follows: All
consciousness is self-consciousness; but in order for any consciousness of
myself to be possible, another sort of consciousness must be connected
with self-consciousness. Thus I see all things within myself and through
myself: this is the proposition we have to demonstrate. In b, we have a
consciousness of this sort, that is, a consciousness of a real object. The
consciousness of the actuality of this object is thought of only by means
5
• ''der eigentliche Denkact."
55
K: "Diese Vermittelung." Literally: "this mediation."
g86 § 17
the terms "above" and "below" here refer to a diagram d ... wn by Fichte on the blackboard.
of} how we become aware of the "grounding principle" or "principle of
suf[u:ient reason"!"o9 {and of what this principle means}. This principle des-
ignates precisely this relationship [between the l's act of determining
and what it determines].
• {We have now arrived at the deduction of the categories and will
begin with the category of "ground."} Simply by analyzing this relation-
ship [of "ground" to "consequent" or "cause" to "effect"], we will find
that within it one distinct thing is thought of through another. {The ef-
fect is thought of through the cause, and the cause is thought of through
196 the effect.} Therefore, like all categories, this category contains a medi-
ated act of thinking, {an act of thinking in which one thing is thought of
through the mediation of another}. To be sure, when we engage in dis-
cursive thinking we can either ascend {from the cause to the effect} or
descend {from the effect to the cause}. However, {this is not true of the
original act of thinking, which must, on the contrary, be thought of as
follows:} in this original act of thinking we assume that it is the cause
that makes the effect what it is, that being first arises from the cause and
then develops further as a result of the same. This act of thinking begins
with the act of thinking of myself. I originally discover myself as a willing
subject, from which there follows some efficacious acting.GG Since there
cannot be an act of determining apart from something determinate, this
efficacious acting that lies within me is necessarily connected with some-
thing accomplished thereby, 60 {something that lies outside of me. My in-
ternal efficacious acting is something subjective, something that
determines; but there can be nothing subjective without something ob-
jective, nor can there be anything that determines apart from something
that is determined. Consequently, I must posit something of the latter
sort in addition to my own efficacious acting, and this is what is affected
or accomplished thereby.} The relationship in question is thus one in
which the determining subject serves as the medium through which
what is determined is observed. {The former is the cause of the latter,
even though, from the transcendental viewpoint, these are one and the
same.}
One might want to say that the ground is what determines what is
grounded and provides the latter with its quantity. {Ultimately, and
strictly speaking,} however, the Wisseruchaftslehre has no knowledge of
"what determines" and "what is determined," considered as objects; in-
stead, it has knowledge only of an act of thinking, {through which an-
other act of thinking obtains its quantity; moreover, it has knowledge of
..So kommt der Satz des Gru~ in das Gemiith." Salz del ~ is the ordinary Ger-
59
this act of thinking only insofar as it does determine the quantity of an-
other. Accordingly, an act of thinking of something determined or de-
terminate must arise in conjunction with an act of thinking of
something that determines.} We have already explained why this must
occur, for this is a condition for the possibility of self-consciousness,
which is a subject-object; {and this division appears everywhere}. Every-
thing established here is simply part of that synthesis through which
alone an I can come into being for me. So much for the form {by means (203J
of which an act of thinking occurring within me is connected with the
act of thinking of an object that is supposed to lie outside of me}. I.e., so
much for the question, How is the act of thinking of something deter-
minate connected with the act of thinking of something that determines
it? Now let us turn to a consideration of the content involved.
• We are familiar with the distinction between the concept of a goal
{(the determining agency) 61 } and a real object, and our view of the latter
is mediated by the former. A concept of a goal is something produced
purely by thinking. A real object is supposed to be the opposite, {[i.e.,] it
is supposed to be something that lies outside of thinking}. This has im-
portant consequences. First of all, what is objective and real {in the ob-
jective constitution62 [of things] is supposed to lie} outside of thinking.
But where, outside of thinking, does this lie? [Answer:] It exists in and
for feeling. An act of real thinking must be an act of thinking of a feel-
ing; {it must be a portraya1 6~ of feeling,} since ideal thinking only thinks
of and portrays itself. {A real act of thinking is supposed to copy an ob-
ject, and this object is a feeling.}
• Here, accordingly, is {the place where the act of going beyond the
concept of a goal (as the determining agency) to the constitution of an
object (as what is determined) occurs; here is} the place where thinking
goes outside of itself, refers to something beyond itself, and becomes64
objective thinking-or, more precisely, intuition. One can summarize
the entire task of the Wissenschaftslehre in this single question: How does
the I manage to go outside of itself? This too occurs through mediation;
namely, when the I first departs from its original and purest [state], that
is, from thinking, and then proceeds from there to feeling. {With this,
however, the I does not yet get outside of itself, for a feeling lies within
the 1.} Feeling is what mediates this process through which the I
197 emerges from itself and assumes the existence of an external world.HH
Here then is the place where something that is in no sense whatsoever
an act of thinking becomes connected with pure thinking. Here is a pro-
gression from thinking to feeling.
61
"dem bestimmenden."
62
"in der objectiven Beschaffenheit."
63 "Darstellung."
64 Reading, with H, "wird" for K's "ist" ("is").
§ 17 ssg
{The objective constitution of a thing is supposed to be observed by
means of the concept in question [i.e., the concept of a goal]; objectivity
exists only insofar as it arises from a feeling and refers to a feeling.}
When we examine this even more closely, however, it does not appear
that our account can hold water; for it is most unlikely that a mere act of
thinking, {such as that of thinking of the concept of a goal,} could con-
tain within itself the basis for a feeling. 11
{To this, we reply as follows:} In and by means of the act of thinking
just described ( = b), the determining 165 itself becomes something
other; it is thereby, as it were, 66 made sensible and becomes a sensuous
force or energy. {This does not occur, however, through the mere act of
thinking of the concept of a goal; instead, it occurs through the deter-
minacy of a sensuous force.} It is by means of the determinacy of this
sensuous force or energy that the concept of a goal is now supposed to
become a cause. {For example, let us say that I carve a statue of Mercury.
I become conscious of this Mercury only in consequence of the fact that
I have constructed a concept of the statue of Mercury that I am going to
make. Is this true? By no means; the statue of Mercury does not imme-
diately spring into being for me simply because I construct a concept of
it. Instead, I must first employ tools, and this is how the statue comes
into being. Accordingly, even my labor [of carving] is nothing but yet an- (204)
other way of looking at the concept of a goal; indeed, it is the sensibilized
aspect of the latter.} Later on we will provide a genetic account of how
this transformation {of the concept of goal (something purely thought
of) into something sensible} occurs. First, however, we have to demon-
strate that such a transformation must occur; that is, we have to show
that the state of the thinking subject at this moment { = b, where the I is
thinking of an obJective property, 67} is, nevertheless, a state of real, sen-
suous thinking. 6 Furthermore, since the constructed concept of a
goal69 is also thought of in this same act, and since it is only by means of
this concept of a goal that we are able to observe the constitution of the
object, 70 it follows that the concept of a goal must also be made sensible
in this act of thinking. Consequently, a division arises once again, and
the I appears under two different aspects: in part, as the concept of a
11
[ ••• ] could contain the basis for something outside of itself, something not contained
within thinking (p. 203).
63
Reading, with H, "das bestimmende lch" for K's "Das Bestimmen des Ich" ("the I's act
of determining").
66
Reading, with H, "gleichsam" for K's '~edenfalls" ("in any case").
67
"einer objektiven Beschaffenheit."
68
"eines reellen sinnlichen Denkens." A state of "sensuous" (or "sensible") thinking is
one in which the thinking subject is thinking of something apprehended through the
senses. Hence "sensuous thinking" = "real thinking."
69
Reading, with H, "der entworfene lnbegrir' for K's "das Entwerfen des Zweckbe-
griffs" ("the act of constructing a concept of a goal").
70
"die Beschaffenheit des Objects."
'jl
I goal and, in part, as a sensuous force.JJ These two aspects are united
with and distinguished from each other inasmuch as two different acts
of thinking occur: pure thinking and sensuous thinking. These asser-
tions are historically familiar, and the same claim was encountered ear-
lier in our inquiry: What is my body? It is nothing but a certain way of
looking at the causal power I exercise as an intellect. {I am originally an
intellect; therefore, my causal power is, in this respect, an act of produc-
ing something from concepts.} Consequently, my body would be some-
thing produced by concepts, because it is by means of an act of sensuous
thinking that I would think of myself as a body, extended in space and
transformed into matter. KK {Therefore, because this is an act of sensu-
ous thinking, the concept of a goal by means of which I view my own
body must also be encountered in a sensible form.}
The relationship between the determining subject and what is deter-
mined still remains to be explained. Insofar as I am an intellect, I myself
am supposed to be the determining subject. My view of the object is me-
diated through my concepts, {and not vice versa}. This is a relationship
of dependence, for the object in this case is dependent upon my concept
of a goal. This relationship is certainly encountered within experience,
{and it must manifest itself within experience, for otherwise I would not
be able to think of myself at all. I am the cause of the act of thinking
about my own efficacy; all efficacy proceeds from me. I do not make a
certain decision because of the particular character of some object; in-
stead, this object has the particular character it has because I make a
certain decision.} The concept that has now been derived is the concept
of a real ground, for this transformation [of ideal thinking] into sensuous
thinking does occur, {[an~] a thing is "realized" or made real insofar as
this transformation 71 occurs within sensuous thinking}. The relation-
ship in question is that of causality.
tg8 • {Since we have now reached the categories, we want to ask,} What is
a "category"? Kant claimed that he was in possession of a definition of
this term but did not wish to state it, in order not to expose himself to
certain avoidable objections. 72 Kant is an honorable man, and we must
take him at his word on this. We can also certainly appreciate these dif-
ficulties {that drove him to keep silent}, for Kant was anxious to ex-
pound his idealism in a form that would not raise suspicion. This
becomes quite clear; for when one compares the different editions of the
lJ Here, therefore, we have a division, a duality contained within the concept of a goal,
insofar as it: ( 1) enables us to go beyond the intelligible series, and (2) enables us to refer
to sensible objects. The latter is a sensible or sensuous force (p. 204).
KK And indeed, my body is something produced by concepts, but it is viewed in a very
different light, for it is a concept that has become sensible. My body would thus be the
power to extend the properties of things into space (p. 204).
71
Reading, with K, "Verwandlung" for H's "Vereinigung" ("unification").
72
See KRV, A82/B 108-A83/B 109.
I
'I
§ 1 7 391
[first] Critique, one finds that Kant has retreated somewhat in the second
edition. LL If, however, he had had sufficient confidence in his own fa-
cility for linguistic expression, then he would not have had to restrain
himself in this ~ay. If he had supplied the definition of the categories,
then his system would have appeared in an entirely different light.
• {The Wissenscho.ftslehre has no difficulty with this point and finds it
easy to provide a definition of a category.} The categories are the ways in
which immediate consciousness becomes mediate or indirect conscious-
ness. They are the ways in which the I goes beyond simply thinking of
itself and thinks of something else. They do not merely serve, as it were,-
to tie together {what is manifold}; they are also the means by which
something simple is made manifold and appears in a dual manner.
• The category of causality connects a concept of a goal with some real
property, as something determined. 75 {All consciousness is self-
consciousness. This is the foundation of the Wissenscho.ftslehre. Yet an-
other sort of consciousness is certainly encountered within experience.
Where does this come from? It arises from the fact that the I observes
itself as something manifold, and it does this in accordance with certain
specific rules, i.e., in accordance with laws. The categories are these ways
and means by which the I splits itself up and divides itself into a mani-
fold-though in such a way that it nevertheless continues to remain a
unity. There are, however, a variety of different ways of unifying the
multiplicity contained in the primary synthesis.} There are three basic
cate~ories: substantiality, causality, and reciprocal interaction. The catego-
ries 4 of relation are the only basic ones; the others do not belong here.
I discover myself to be a willing subject (fundamental law) only insofar
as something really does come into being by means of my concept [of a
goal]. This is the law of my sensuous cognition. The actuality in question
exists only insofar as it is supposed to exist by means of my concept; ac-
cordingly, it is observed only insofar as my concept is intuited as pos-
sessing causal power, i.e., only insofar as something is posited by the
category [of causality], which thereby becomes productive. The thought
of an effect is first added to that of a concept, thought of as something
that exercises an effect. Something comes into being by means of the cat-
egory [of causality].
{We established synthesis A, within which we discovered a double se-
ries: an ideal one and a real one. We began our examination with the
u. He was afraid to lay his tranacendental idealism before the scrutiny of the public, and
perhaps the source of the difficulty was that he lacked sufficient confidence in the expres-
sive power of language to defend him against the objections that would have followed.
Moreover, in the subsequent editions of the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant mixed up every-
thing that was contained in the first edition and betrayed transcendental idealism (p. 205).
'" "die Kategorie der Causalitiit ist; da an den Zweckbegriff eine Reele Beschaffenheit
als etwas bestimmtes gekniift wird."
74 Reading "Kateg0 rien" for "Kategorie" ("category").
392 § 17
series of the real, and indeed, with point b = the representation of a real
object produced by the causality of our will. We then viewed this repre- (2c
sentation through the medium of our own act of determining, as a de-
terminacy produced by us. Our own act of determining ( IJ) is
therefore for us the ideal element that is immediately adjacent to the
point of synthetic unity [ = A] in our synthesis. Als should be clear from
,, what has already been said,} tJ itself can be looked at in {two} different
II ways: as determining [something else] by means of sensuous energy, and
as determining [something else] simply be means of thinking. What we
have shown is that the latter sort of determining (through mere think-
ing) must transform itself into the former sort of determining (through
·~ sensuous energy), {but we have not yet shown how this occurs}.
~~
1
99 (3) The concept of a goal, or the I's act of determining, appears in two
different guises: {(a)} on the one hand, it appears as something purely
ideal, {as a concept, as the act of constructing a concept of a goal; {(f3)} on
~ the other, it appears as something real, by virtue of physical energy.
.II {These are both aspects of the same I.} The reason [for this duality] has
already been indicated: this act is ideal insofar as it is considered from
·d the standpoint of the I as an intellect {(it is the I's act of determining
itself)}, and it is real insofar as it is related to some effect within the sen-
'I' sible world. Consequently, we would already have something twofold
within the real series: the physical ener~ {of the I} and the feeling that
is thereby produced within the I itself. M
{Subsidiary remark:} The primary synthesis ( = A) consists in the unifi-
cation of what is ideal and what is real. The immediately adjacent, real
element in this primary synthesis would here be the physical force or
energy of the I itself, {with which the real object was united;} and our
I present task would be to unite the mere concept of a goal with this real
1j
}t
energy, {in such a way that the physical energy would obtain a purpose-
ful direction only when viewed through the mediation of the act of con-
structing the concept of a goal' 5 }. We said, "It is only in consequence of
something else that you observe what you have produced within the sen-
sible world." In a certain sense, I can say, "There is no consciousness of
a sensible world, 76 no consciousness of a sensible product; instead, there
is merely a higher consciousness, which transforms itself into the
former." {Thus, for example, I have no [immediate) consciousnessofthe
sensible [statue of] Mercury [I carve] nor of the letters [I write]; instead,
I am [directly] conscious only of my labor [of carving] or of my writing.
Through the mediation of such consciousness, I see a sensible Mercury
MM { ••• J and the objective element that we have produced, which is a feeling (p. :zo6 ).
" "wie nur durch das entwerfen des Zweckbegrifs eine zweckmaflige Richtung der phy·
sischen Kraft hindurch gesehen werde."
76
Reading, with H, "Sinnenwelt" for K's "Sensibilitat" ("sensibility").
§ 17 393
or a [written] letter. The latter, as determinate, are synthetically con-
nected with the acts of laboring and writing, as what determines them.
This raises another question:} Am I, for example, [directly] conscious of
my own act of writing or of the labor involved in [carving something
from] a block [of marble]? By no means. Such consciousness {too} is al-
ways conditioned by a higher consciousness; it is mediated by the act of
constructing a concept of a goal. {Sensible acting too is nothing but an (20'j
appearance. Nothing is immediate and secure but pure thinking itself,
which alone possesses an objectivity that is made sensible and becomes a
sensible doing, to which an object is then connected.} Consequently,
some intermediate element intervenes between the concept of a goal
and what is accomplished by means of this concept. This mediating el-
ement is the physical energy that is conditioned by pure thinking,NN
though we will not turn immediately to a discussion of this.
• From the preceding, we obtain the following result: Whenever I
think of an object, what I immediately intuit is an act of determining my
own physical energy. {This energy is the determining agency; and, in
accordance with the law governing the relationship of the determin-
ing agency to what is determined, I think, in addition, of the proper-
ties of the object that are produced by my act of thinking.} But this
physical energy is mine {and is an object of my consciousness} only in-
sofar as I view it too through the mediation of the concept of a goal.
{This physical energy is related to the concept of a goal in the same way
that an object is related to this physical energy. Our view of the physical
energy is mediated by the concept of goal, and the object is mediated by
the physical energy.} Accordingly, the chief question is this: How does a
simple act of sheer thinking become sensible and acquire the aspect of a
sensuous force? This {is the basic question concerning every instance in
which anything is made sensible, for this} is the first instance in which
something is made sensible; therefore, this leads us to the theory of the
productive imagination, {which is perhaps the most difficult, though indis-
putably most important, portion of the Wissenschaftslehre}.
In order to prepare the way for such a theory, we must first investigate
something else. {First of all,} let us actually orient ourselves {so we can
see where we stand}. The sort of thinking we have here been discussing
was a real act of thinking {of an object}. Such thinking is mediated by
another act of thinking, the act of thinking of the determinacy of an
·1 NN This mediating element is the sensuous energy mediated by the concept of a goal
(p. 207)-
394 § 17
1 of constructing the pure thought of a concept of a goal, considered as nothing but an act
of pure thinking (p. 208).
I'
§ 17 395
curs when we synthetically unite something determinate with what
mediates [its determinacy].} We can see that instead of sticking to our
previously announced plan of connecting one individual act of thinking
with another, we will be presenting nothing but syntheses.
{Dogmatism always remains present so long as one continues to think
of thinking as an act in which we think of some determinate object that
simply lies there before us. Our thinking alwa6s involves a connection, a
movement of thought in a certain direction, 8 an act of synthesis, with-
out which there could be no thinking at all. For this reason, the content
of our thoughts is never anything taken by itself, 81 but is always a rela-
tionship between two things. This is why it might appear at first glance
as if we first think separately of the two elements 13 and b and then relate
them to each other; whereas, when we look more closely, we can see that
o8),
neither 13 nor b exists [by itself]. 13 and b are, in turn, syntheses them-
selves and are related to other syntheses that lie even deeper. Conse-
quently, we never have anything but interrelated syntheses.}
• The mediating synthesis, by means of which the determinacy of the
physical energy is supposed to be determined, would now be the act of
constructing a concept of a goal. This synthesis contains within itself the
following: (1) the constructive, active subject, over against which there
stands, insofar as this subject is an intellect {engaged in an act of pure
thinking}, the active, sensuous energy; (2) what is determined [in this
act] and possesses the actual concept of a goal. {I engage in deliberation
and grasp a concept of a goal. Within this act, we must distinguish: (1)
my act of constructing, that is, my agility; (2) the fact that I possess a (~
goal.} Each of these is made possible only by the other, and, in a certain
respect, this relationship is one of ideality and reality. {The former, the
act of constructing [a concept of a goal], would be the [ideal or] subjec-
tive element. The latter, the concept that has been constructed, would be
the real or objective element.} Nevertheless, one should not yet treat the
objectivity involved in this act as something sensible, for here we are
talking about nothing but thinking itself, as something that is arrested
and persists, 82 and these two [ideal and real aspects of thinking] obvi-
ously go together. In constructing [a concept of a goal], {as what is ideal,}
one looks toward a future concept of a goal; {indeed, it is for the sake of
this future goal that reason engages in an act of choosing}. Therefore,
what one has in view in the real [series] 83 is the determinate concept of
a goal, once the latter has been grasped. {Both these elements must
be found together, for neither makes any sense apart from the other. I
80
"ein Hindenken."
81
"deswegen ist der Inhalt alter unserer Gedanken, nie etwas fiir sich."
82
"es ist blo~ von Anhalten und Bestehen des Denkens die Rede." Cp. H: "von einem
Anhalten und Stehen des Denkens" ("of an arresting and abiding of thinking").
' K: "1m Realen ist der aufgefa~te bestimmte Begriff vom Zwecke." H: "Im realen ists
8
[ ... ]." Reading, with H, "ists" for K's "ist" and taking "es" to refer (albeit ungrammati-
cally) to "die Aussicht."
cannot make any choice unless I can think of some goal, and I can think
of a goal only insofar as I can exercise choice. On the other hand, I can
be conscious of a goal only insofar as 1 have chosen it. Whichever direc-
tion we look, we find that the thought of a goal and that of a choice al-
ways refer to one another. On every side, therefore, there is an identity
of what is ideal and what is real. Thus} we could say that the I comes into
being for itself by means of a synthesis of itself as something ideal (a
purely thinking subject) with itself as something real (a feeling subject).
{The chief principle is this: I-hood is self-relation. Ideality and reality
are totally united. We also said that the I is an identity of mind and body,
a subject-objectivity. Some people maintain that I am my soul, while others
claim that I am my body. We will pay no heed to either of these parties.
We assert that the I is neither soul nor body; instead, these are [an] I
only in the union of both. This union by means of which the I comes into-
being is not a union of a simple subjective element with a simple objec-
tive one, for both the subject and the object involved in this synthesis
are, in tum, a synthesis of what is ideal and what is real. In this act,
therefore, a manifold is united with a manifold.
Let us think of two series: an ideal one and a real one. For "ideal se-
ries" let us substitute "mind" or "spirit," and for "real series" let us sub-
stitute "body." The I arises from the union of these two. Nevertheless, in
order to be able to bring this union into existence, I have to think of each
of these elements as a part of the I. I must think of myself as a mind; in
addition, I must think of myself as a body-i.e., I must think of each of
these individually and apart from the other. On the other hand, I cannot
think of myself as a part of the I-that is to say, I cannot think of myself
as a mind or as a body-apart from a synthesis of what is subjective and
what is objective. Consequently, different syntheses, i.e., different man-
ifolds, are united with each other in the union of ideality and reality, by
means of which the I comes into being. Only when viewed in this twofold
light do the mind and the body come into being for me, and only in the
union of both do I become an I for myself.
This, however, is no more than a figure of speech, a sensible expres-
sion of the point we have now reached. Here we are not talking about
"the mind" or "the body"; instead, we are talking about thinking and
feeling.
Therefore, the synthesis we are concerned with here is a synthesis of (:
thinking and feeling. Considered by themselves, each of these two terms
is, in turn, a synthesis of what is subjective and what is objective-which
is the basic form of every synthesis.}
"" "hier ist gezeigt worden dati sie in allen Vomellungen auf das Verhaltnill des unend·
lichen zu einander kommen."
89
Reading, with H, "also" for K's "aber [ ... J doch" ("nevertheless").
90
"diell is aber nicht <an dem>, wir kommen auf etwas unpriingliches was
<unendlkh> auffallt." This passage is dearly corrupt and must be emended as indicated
(or in some other way) to make sense.
RR How does movement become possible through the unification, by the imagination, of
things that are absolutely opposed to each· other? (p. 212).
400 § 17
TT [ ••• ] even though this activity is ascribed to the intellect alone (p. 215).
that we ourselves make these objects is meaningless unless one also pro-
vides a derivation of why it is that the objects we ourselves construct nev-
ertheless appear within ordinary consciousness as somethin~ given.}
Where do I begin, and where does my productive activity 7 begin? I
discover myself only as the determining subject. 98 This presupposes
something determinable, which is provided to us by the imagination. My
productive activity always presupposes the imagination, as well as the
product of the same, {i.e., what is determinable}. It is for this reason that
something always appears to be given to us, and this is the source of the
world's objectivity. {This is why the sensible world must appear to us as
something given, because it is the determinable "something" that is pro-
duced by the imagination so that it can then be determined by my sen-
suous energy.} Consequently, the imagination necessarily appears to us
as something given. {Furthermore,} the object of the imagination is in-
finitely divisible. This {infinite} divisibility does not lie within what is de-
terminable (considered as something in itself), as an immanent property
of the same; for what is determinable is [the product of] my imagination
itself, 99 which merely combines [the manifold].uu Hence to say that
what is determinable is infinitely divisible simply means that what is pro-
vided byvv the power of the imagination is subsequently divided by the
power of judgment-or at least that this act of dividing is posited as one
that has to be undertaken 100 {by the power of judgment}. Thus, {just as
we previously encountered an interaction between thinking and
imagination,} we here in fact encounter an interaction between imagi-
nation and judgment, each of which can be described only in terms of
the other. One could thus say that imagination is the power [to grasp]
wholes [consisting of] {an infinite number of} absolutely {opposed
parts}, and that the power of judgment {analyzes the absolutely opposed
elements that have been combined by the imagination; in other words,}
judgment is the power {to grasp} what is simple. 101 These two powers are
reciprocally related to each other: there can be nothing simple apart
97
''mein Machen."
98
Reading, with H, "das Bestimmende"" forK's "das Bestimm<te>" ("what is determi-
nate").
99
"dieses ist meine Einbildungskraft selbst." As Radrizzani notes, this clause requires
some emendation, since (according to what has just been said) it is not the imagination
itself that is divisible and determinable, but rather its product. For an alternate way of
emending this clause, see the corresponding passage in H, translated below in n. UU.
uu This infinite divisibility, however, does not lie within what is determinable, as [an]
immanent [property of the same], as in something [that exists]"in itself''; it lies only in the
power of imagination through which I view the object (p. 215).
vv [ ... ] that what is glimpsed through [ ... ] (p. 2 15).
100
Reading, with H, "als vorzunehmen" forK's "als vorzunehemend."
101
K: "die Einbildungskraft is das Vermogen absoluter Ganzen, die Urtheilskraft des
Vermogen des Einfachen." H: "Die Einbildungskraft ist das Zusammmenfafkn ABSOLUTER
oo sich entgegengesezten Gangen [sic]. Die Urtheilsk.raft is die ANALYSE der durch die Ein-
bildungskraft zusammengesfallten ABSOLUTE sich entgegengesezten; oder die Urtheils-
kraft is das Auffasen des einzelnen."
from a whole and no whole without an infinite number of simple
elements. 102 {All concepts such as "herd," "old age," "heap," etc., consist
of individual elements that have been blended together by the imagina-
tion. As soon as these different elements begin to be enumerated and
separated from one another, the function of the imagination ceases and
that of judgment commences.} This recalls the ancient sorites. 103 If one
says, "The imagination combines something that is infinitely divisible,"
then this means: "divisible for the power of judgment." Therefore, for
the mind as a whole, the very same thing that appears to be a whole, to
be one, also appears to this same mind to be a mere collection of infi-
nitely divisible [parts]. One can never become conscious of the divisions
made by the power of judgment {except by means of this very power; (2
thus I must actually engage in judgment}. Therefore, one must not
make any judgment if a property is present which does not depend
upon a conscious deed and must not say that anything exists in itself and
independently of me.
204 • The main objection to this, {[anq] one of the best objections one
I
could raise against the transcendental idealist,} is as follows: "If nature is
I
.I' your own product, then how is it that you are nevertheless able to learn
things from nature? If nature is your own product, then how is any re-
search into nature possible? {How could you perform any experiments?
You must already be completely acquainted with nature. Therefore, de-
spite what you claim, nature must also contain for you something more,
something you did not expect to find. But this is the characteristic fea-
ture of posited being. Consequently, you cannot have produced nature."
Answer:} Here we do no more than learn about ourselves and employ
our faculty of judgment to analyze what is posited by the imagination.
{Nature in its entirety is a product of the imagination.}
How is movement possible? It is possible only insofar as an {entire}
line is constructed {all at once and not the infinite parts of the same, one
after another}; similarly, consciousness of an activity [is possibly only] in-
sofar as what is determinable, {[i.e.,] the infinite manifold of my
freedom,} is grasped as a mass, as a whole, {and not individually and
successively}.
• Movement is not yet explained in this way, for I still do not see what
it is that moves itself along this line; therefore, consciousness {of agility}
also has not been explained, since what is self-actively agile has not yet
come into view. ijust as in the previous case of a line, so too in the
102
"ohne unendliches einfache."
10
' Taking its name from the Greek word soros ("heap"), this sophistical argument (some-
times known as "the argument of the beard'') denies the possibility of finding any middle
ground between parts and wholes composed thereof, on the grounds that it is impossible
to say precisely when, for example, a number of individual grains of wheat becomes a
"heap"-and, conversely, when a "heap" ceases to be a heap and becomes simply a number
of in!lividual grains.
present case [of our consciousness of our own activity or agility]: some-
thing that is in motion is united with what is here determinable, i.e.,
with this agility, and is viewed through the medium of this same agility.
You observe the manifold of choice, and through the medium of the
same you also observe a determinate, inner force, the I as something
agile.} The I is united with what is here determinable and appears as the
subject that mediates the latter, i.e., as the determining I. This deter-
mining I is something simple and absolute, something that is produced
purely by thinking, a noumenon. When we think of this determining I,
we are not thinking of any I that actually determines itself, {as is the case
with the concept of a goal}; all we are thinking about here is the form,
{what type of act of determining this is and how it occurs,} the sheer
power [of the I to determine itself]. This is a remarkable concept, for we
simply cannot understand what a "sheer power" 104 could be; neverthe-
less, this is thought of within consciousness. {Though it is hard to deter-
mine what a "sheer power" is supposed to be, this cannot be expressed
any better than in the following way:} When we think of a power, what
we think of is the sheer form {of "doing"}, not of any determinate acting
of this or that type. This is similar to what happens when we think about
infinite space. The problem is as follows: How am I supposed to arrive
at a cognition of the form of anything unless I have already discovered
this form to be realized in something determinate? (In the usual sort of
purely formulaic philosophy, one customarily starts with a mere abstrac-
tion {without noticing that no abstract thinking whatsoever is possible (217
without concrete thinking}.) How is abstraction possible unless it is pre-
ceded by something concrete? {How can I arrive at a cognition of the (216
type and manner of the I's act of determining unless I am first ac-
quainted with certain determinate actions of the I?}
{The main object of our present inquiry was to answer the question, (2 17
How is consciousness of agility [i.e, of our own inner activity] possible?
In order to be able to answer this question, we first had to address an-
other one: How is movement possible? In order for movement to be pos-
sible there must be (a) a power to unite the manifold of opposites, and
(b) an act of pure thinking, an energy or force.
This was nothing but an example, however, to which we connected our
inquiry. We are here concerned with agility. This agility is supposed to
be grasped, and here we discover (A) something infinitely determinable,
namely, an infinite number of possibilities for action, which, at the same
time, appear to us to be given; (B) a power to grasp these various possibil-
ities. From a transcendental perspective, there is not an infinite number
of possibilities for action; these exist only subsequently, for the power of
judgment. Consequently, this manifold of opposites can be grasped only
104
"ein blofks Vermogen."
by the power of imagination. Only a single act of pure thinking occurs;
and, when one is engaged in constructing a concept of a goal, this single
act is, in a certain sense, guided thro1.1gh the series [of possible actions],
and it is here that an intuition of agility arises. What arose in this way was
the form [ofthe act of self-determination], forth is act of self-determining
is posited not as anything actual, but only as a form, as something abstract.
[Nothing abstract, however,] can exist apart from something concrete.
Accordingly, a real act of willing, an act of self- determining, would here
have to be presupposed. Since self-determination is present in the con-
cept of a goal, the form of this act of self-determination had to be ex-
plained as contained within the concept of a goal. This is how we
arrived at the question, "How is an intuition of the mere form [of this
act of self-determination] possible apart from an intuition of something
actual or real to which this form pertains? I.e., how is something abstract
possible apart from something concrete?" In the concept of a goal we
find nothing but the form of self-determination, without any content.
Why is this form nevertheless assumed to be something that is originally
present and employed to explain the will?}
• [Answer:] As applied to the act of self-determination, [abstraction] is
possible precisely insofar as this act of self-determination is viewed
through the medium of the imagination, which grasps the infinitely
{divisible} manifold; and [thus] the imagination is here the mediating
agency. Similarly, in the act of drawing a line, I project 105 the line through
an infinite number of points. {For example, a projectile moves along a
certain line. For the reasons stated above, however, this movement can-
not be grasped by thinking, for the projectile would have to be thought
of as moving through an infinite number of points. Nevertheless, from (2
the ordinary point of view, movement certainly does occur. But the only
way in which this was possible is if the infinite series of points was
grasped by the imagination in a single act (and in a single line), and [this
in turn was possible only] if we assumed the existence of some force that
unites itself with all the points on this line. Consequently, I projected this
force through the infinite points, and it was by means of this act of
projection that a line arose for me. Thus the line arose only insofar as I
viewed the noumenon through the medium of the infinite divisibility of
space. So too in the present case: the self-determining force is viewed
through the medium of the infinite manifold from which a selection has
to made, and what is observed in this case is nothing but my own act of
thinking, my act of self-determining-which is such only with respect to
its form-since the process of self-determination nowhere ceases.
Expressed in a popular form: I am in a state of deliberation; should I
do this, or should I do that? I.e., should I determine myself in this way
105
"weife [ ... ] hindurch."
or that?} Everyone is familiar with this frame of mind, which is the one
in which we find ourselves when we doubt or when we choose. It follows
that the concept of the power of willing is contained within this very
frame of mind; even though nothing is willed in this case, {the possibility
of willing is already present}. But how is a concept of this sort possible?
{This is willing in the abstract sense, and this sort of willing is made
possible} by the fact that when one deliberates one does not restrict one-
self to any one thing. {I am always driven, as it were, from one thing to
another, and it is precisely through this process that there arises the ab-
stract [concept] of a determination of the will apart from anything
concrete.}
205 • This must be understood only in a transcendental sense. ww A rep-
resentation {of the freedom of the will or of the determinability of
willing} should not be assumed to be something that is presupposed
{and is passively present in advance; for if we could have assumed this,
then we would have proceeded in a purely analytic fashion. The power
of imagination never comes to a rest. It continually proceeds from one
thing to the next. At every point, one act of determination is completed
and a new one is begun, and this holds for the entire state of delibera-
tion, within which determinacy and indeterminacy are continually
united with each other. Neither can exist without the other; for this is
precisely the state of mind by means of which determinability comes into
being, but determinability exists only insofar as determinacy does.}
Throughout the entire sphere of imagination, there occurs everywhere
an act of quasi determining, which constantly moves from one thing to
another; determinacy and indeterminacy are here united. Here we can
see how the general concept of determinability first arises. xx
&mark [1]: Only by means of the act of thinking just described, an act
through which the I ascribes a power to itself, does the I discover itself
to be an actual I, separate from the world. {I am nothing but a
"doing"; 106 moreover, my activity is only a movement of transition from
determinability to determinacy, and I intuit it as such within conscious- (219)
ness. This movement of transition is a process of sensibilization; as a re-
sult, I intuit my own activity in a sensibilized form, 107 and this is how it
becomes a "power" for me. [In this way] I become conscious only of my
act of determining, not of my determinate being.} The I that arises in
ww We must provide a transcendental account of this, that is, we must explain how a
re~esentation of the will's freedom or of the determinability of willing is possible (p. 218).
Consequently, both determinability and determinacy must be united in the state of
deliberation, which is why no stable act of determining occurs within this state. (Here we
can dearly understand how a determinability arises along with what is determinate.)
(p. 218).
106
"Ich bin nichts als ein Thun."
107
"Das Uebergehen ist Versinnlichung, ich schaue demnach meine Thatigkeit in einer
Versinnlichung an."
this first act [that is, in the act of determining] is transformed into a de-
terminate being. Everything that is present here is an appearance-in-
cluding l myself (a point that has already been made by Kant, {who said
that I discover myself not as I am, but as I appear. 108 This is quite cor-
rect, and it is assertions of this sort on the part of Kant which allow us
to infer that he had a grasp of transcendental idealism.}). But where
does this appearance come from? lt is produced by me. But what am l?
{Am I "something," and if so, what? Many people say that} I am a mind,
or a soul, or something of this sort. But is this latter way of looking at the
I [as a power] also nothing but an appearance, {just another way of look-
ing at the first, original noumenon}? Yes, this too is an appearance,
namely, the appearance of a power.
{Though many philosophers begin with a "power" or "faculty," such as
"the understandinf," etc.} (see, for example, Reinhold's "power of
representation"), 10 {this is nevertheless a mistake; for when they pro-
ceed in this way they begin with an appearance. For what is a "power"
(e.g., the "power of the understanding") if not an appearance?} Now,
however, we see how the general or overall [concept of] a power can
arise. This is a sensuous concept, produced by a process of sensibiliza-
tion. {A power arises when I view the self-determining force, the
noumenon, through the medium of the manifold.} Within the whole of
{ordinary} consciousness l am never present as anything but a power,
{because ordinary consciousness is itself a process of sensibilization}.
• We wanted to provide a derivation of consciousness of the I's agil-
ity-not of consciousness of this agility as a consciousness of something
that has already occurred {and serves to explain something else (which is
how we have proceeded until now)}, but rather of consciousness of it as
something immediately occurring. Above, we argued as follows: I dis-
cover my own physical energy as something in motion, and through the
medium of the latter I view an object as the result of my causal power.
But how does this physical energy or force become mine? {How do I be-
come conscious of it as identical with myself as the subject? This occurs
in the following way:} I refer the determinacy of this physical energy to
my own act of self-determining, which I {therefore} presuppose as the
explanatory ground of the former. This raises a still higher question:
How do l become conscious of {the self-determination that is involved
in} my act of determining? We have at last explained how this occurs. {l
become conscious of this self-determination by viewing this act of deter-
parts of the same.} Temporal duration can arise only if the concept of a
goal-including the act in which this concept is constructed-possesses
a certain duration of its own. Only through this latter duration, by
means of sensuous mediation, does there arise a successive acting, {as} a
gradual generation of the product of our acting. This point is not made
clearly in Kant's own writings. (See Jacobi's Concerning Idealism and
Realism, 112 a work that should be carefully reread. Uacobi shows clearly
that no time is contained in the concept of causality; instead, it is con-
tained only in the act of grasping the manifold by means of the power of
imagination.})
this provides us with the accidents, {which, however, we are not discuss-
ing here, where we are chiefly concerned with the substance. As will be-
come evident below, neither substance nor accident is possible apart
from the other.}
(4) Let us now situate ourselves within the standpoint of the present in-
quiry. {In advance of anything else, let us occupy the standpoint from
which we are supposed to proceed. But first, let us consider where we
have stood until now:} We began {the present§} by hovering above syn-
thesis A. We then descended to a consideration of the discrete, individ-
207 ual acts of thinking contained in this synthesis and posited only in a
certain relationship to one another. We will now shift our standpoint
{once more} and will again place ourselves {in the standpoint} abave syn-
thesis A. In {the primary synthesis} ( = A) the I posits itself as thinking in
the manner we have now described. We have {until now} directed all our
attention only to the intermediate or mediating element [in this synthe-
sis], though we remarked in advance that it is through this mediating
element that my act of thinking of myself as what is determinate is
united (objectively) with the primary synthesis and my act of thinking
of myself as the determining subject is united (subjectively) with the
same.YY Thus the same elements we previously considered separately we
now wish to consider again in their union with one another. We will now
reflect upon this synthesis, which will [thus] appear as something that is
merely thought of.
{A few additional remarks to explain what has been said: It has often
been remarked that many people have great difficulty with claims such
as the following: that even thinking is nothing but an appearance; that
one act of thinking is the object of another, higher act of thinking, or is
an object for a higher form of consciousness; that we do not think within
time, but only perceive 116 our own thinking as occurring within time.} It
is very difficult for people to comprehend the ideality of time. {If we re-
main standing at the point where our thinking appears to us to be some-
thing that originally occurs within time, then we occupy the standpoint
of ordinary consciousness and we consider discursive thinking to be
something immediate. This is how we have proceeded until now: We
spoke of the act of thinking of a concept of a goal, as if this were some-
thing original and ultimate. We also spoke of a certain force or energy,
as if this force were determined by itself. But this is not the way things
now appear: [we can now see that] all this [both the act of thinking of a
vv Through this mediating element, the act of thinking of myself as what is determin-
able (the object) and the act of thinking of myself as the determining agency (the subject)
are united as a single synthesis (p. 222).
116 ••hineinschauen."
§ •7
goal and the force of the I] is mediated by the primary synthesis [ = A].
These are not immediate determinations of the mind.} In the chain of
reflections just concluded, we remained solely within the standpoint of
ordinary consciousness, and there we treated the determinacy of [our
own] force 117 as something absolute. Now we will no longer proceed in
this manner, but will recall that the determinacy of our force is a deter-
mination of ourselves and is mediated by the fundamental synthesis that
we now place ourselves above. {We now wish to ascend once again to
what is immediate, to the point from which we previously descended to
the individual, discursive acts of thinking contained in synthesis A.
Let us consider the previously described intuition of the act of self-
determination which is involved in the concept of a goal:} I view my own
act of determining ( = the noumenon) through the medium of the man-
I ifold contained in the imagination. What is the origin of this act of de-
termining which I am supposed to view in this way? It cannot be given
to me; I determine myself on my own, and I am immediately conscious
of this act of determining as my own act of determining. This
{immediate} consciousness, however, is precisely the central {term within
the} synthesis, and the leading thought [of this inquiry] is that it is a law
of our thinking that we must connect many other things to this mid-
point, {[i.e.,] that we connect thoughts by means of a synthesis. In the
concept of a goal I discover myself as a determining subject, but only
with respect to the form of the same. Insofar as I act efficaciously in a
determinate manner, I view my own efficacy through the medium of
my act of determining, and I view the object through the medium of
consciousness. I view all this through the medium of the categories.}
What we have now derived is certainly not the midpoint [of our synthe-
sis], but something that follows from the categories of substantiality
and causality.
• Let us begin by describing this midpoint: It is the immediate and
self-determining {element of consciousness} and is not viewed through
the medium of anything else. {Everything that lies within time is con-
nected to this midpoint.} Consciousness is like a circle: What is intelligi-
ble is the midpoint or center of this circle. The circumference of this
circle, which includes everything empirical and sensible, is connected to
the center in accordance with the necessary laws of thinking. We have
now lost our way on the circumference, so let us return to the center and
show why precisely these, and no other, radii must be described. At this
midpoint, the act of determining something purely by means of thinking
is inseparably united with the act of grasping what is infinite by means
of the imagination. Both occur in a single act of consciousness.
117
Reading, with Krause's MS, "die Bestimmtheit der Kraft" for K's "von der Be-
stimmtheit die Kraft."
(i) What is this very act of determining, 118 considered, somewhat ar-
bitrarily, as a {separate,} pure act {- which, to be sure, it is not}? Lan-
guage fails us at this point, {for we possess only sensible intuition and are
bound by the laws of the same}. One might say that this is an act of lim-
iting ourselves, that is to say, an act in which we limit our reflection upon
the manifold to one individual, determinate element. But if one says
this, then the product of the imagination has already been built into
one's very definition and cannot subsequently be removed. [On the
other hand,] we could think of our act of determining only as a move-
ment of transition [from determinability to determinacy] or as a process_
of oscillating among several opposed terms. We are trying, however, to
describe this activity {by itself, without any reference to determinacy and
determinability, [and]} without referring to any of the opposed terms
among which it oscillates. {This, however, is impossible, since both de-
terminacy and determinability must be present in every act of thinking
in accordance with laws.} [rhus,] in order to accomplish what we are
supposed to accomplish, we must either think in accordance with en-
tirely different laws of thought, or else say something that is false. In
short, we cannot do what we are supposed to do. {Therefore, our
present task is nothing but an Idea: We are not supposed to think of any
content of this act of determining; but it is impossible to think of it in
this way, since the product of the imagination, i.e., the object, is always
contained in this very act. Consequently,} we must here proceed as we
must proceed with every Idea; i.e., we will merely describe the law in
accordance with which this concept has to come into being. We claim
that if the mere determination is supposed to be thought of, then one
must abstract from what is determinable. This is impossible, for if one
did this, one would have to be thinkin~ of mere 1-hood, i.e., of the act of
grasping and apprehending oneself1 9-expressions that already con-
tain within themselves a sensible distinction between the apprehending
subject and what is apprehended. {I cannot think of such an act of de-
termining; I can only say how I would have to proceed in order to be
able to think of it.} In a similar manner, one often speaks, for example,
about an "infinite space," even though this is unthinkable and {all one
can think of in this case is how one would perhaps go about thinking of
an infinite space; [i.e.,]} one thinks only of the rule in accordance with
which infinite space must be described: namely, [the rule that tells us] to
continue drawing a line forever.
{In the concept of a goal (which is the concept whose possibility we
here have to examine) the act of determining is viewed through the me-
dium of the manifold of thinking. Consequently, the concept of a goal
118 Reading, with H, "dieses Bestimmen selhst"" for K"s "dieses Bestimmte selhst" ("'this
determinate something itself").
119 "das sich selhst Fafkn und Ergreifen."
contains within itself an act of self-determining. Where does this come
from? It is what is first, what is highest, what is a priori. It is not medi-
ated by anything else; instead, everything else is mediated by it. How is
it to be thought of? It cannot be thought of in isolation. In actual con-
sciousness it is always thought of in a sensible form. It certainly cannot
be thought of as something supersensible; for in order to be able to
think of it in this way, we ourselves would have to cease to be sensuous or
sensible beings and would have to become supersensible ones, which is
quite impossible. Consequently, it can be thought of only as an Idea. I.e.,
we can only supply the rule specifying how this act of determining has
to be thought of. What this rule tells us is this: when we think of this act
we must eliminate (that is, "think away") everything determinable or de-
terminate. We are all conscious of an act of determining, and this act of (22.
determining is also present in the concept of a goal-namely, as a move-
ment of transition. If I now try to think away the transition involved,
what remains is the act of thinking of this act of determining as what is
original and highest. This is an act of apprehending oneself.}
This act of self-determining is the absolute beginning of all life and of
all consciousness {and all activity}, and-for just this reason-it is incom-
prehensible, for our consciousness always presupposes something. {As
we saw above, our consciousness cannot grasp its own beginning; in-
stead, it always discovers itself in the midst [of its own conscious
activity], 120 where the beginning must be presupposed. The reason this
act of determining cannot be grasped is because the act of determining
and the act of intuiting this act of determining are necessarily united
within the I itself by the imagination. Consequently, we must proceed to
a higher act of the I, from the standpoint of which it will be possible to
observe both the act of determining and the act of intuiting this act of
determining.} This reflection raises us {once again} to the standpoint of
A. We have already observed the ground of the connection [between the
act of self-determining and the act of intuiting the same].
{The act of self-determining can be observed only through the me-
dium of the imagination; for this act is supposed to be thought of as a
process of flowing forth, 121 and only by means of the imagination is it
possible to think of it this way.} It becomes a flowing forth, however, only
through the imagination, precisely because it is the imagination {alone}
that unites this noumenon, {this self-determining energy,} with this
rather than with that {point of the manifold}, by constantly propelling it
{through the infinite series}. One should always keep in mind the
consciousness 122 of movement, which is what is most distant [from the
120
"sondern sich immer in der Miue befindet."
121
"als ein Fortfliejkn."
122
Reading, with Krause's MS, "man erinnere sich immer an den B." for K's "man erin-
nere sich an den B," and also construing "B" as an abbreviation for "Bewusstsein" (which
.I
:
center], the final expression of all productive activity. The entire func-
tion of the imagination is simply to make it possible to observe the acting
of the I while it is engaged in the act of determining itself. 12 s {We said
previously that I can observe myself only as active. This activity is an
agility, a flowing forth, a fluttering. (No precise terminology is available
to describe this activity.) Where does this agility come from?} No flowing
occurs within thinking, but simply a standing still. 124 Insofar as con-
209 sciousness is supposed to be a consciousness of this flowing, the power of
imagination is the basis of all consciousness; and therefore consciousness
must originate solely by means of the power of imagination.zz {This is
also what actually occurs, and it occurs insofar as the act of self-
determining, or the absolutely free energy of the I, is conducted
through [the manifolq.] by the imagination, which unifies this manifold.
In this respect, the imagination is posited, for otherwise there can be no
imagination; and in this respect the imagination is necessary, since what
generates sensuous consciousness originates through the imagination.}
One can now say that the self-positing of the I consists in the unification
of an act of thinking and an act of intuiting, {and the I itself first arises
by means of this unification; this provides the primary synthesis = A}.
(Synthesis A is {therefore procreative; it is} simply the progenitor of self-
consciousness.) This synthesis occurs when imagination and thinking are
united in such a way that what is real becomes united with what is ideal.
Only in this unity is the I engendered. {We said above that the I [arises] (2,:
from the unification of what is ideal and what is real, and here we say
that it arises from the synthesis of thinking and imagination. These are
simply two different ways of saying the same thing; for what is real is the
imagination, and what is ideal is thinking. There is no I without both,
and neither could exist without the other.} Thinking and imagining 125
cannot exist separately, for then there would be no I {for which they
could exist}.
[ii] The form of the act of synthetic thinking ( = A): {Until now} we have
viewed the manifold as consisting of elements in a relationship of de-
pendence, {because one point in the manifold was mediated by another.
In the synthesis of causality} we viewed the object only through the
is the usual abbreviation Krause employed). For some reason Fuchs construes "B" in this
instance as an abbreviation for "Begrifr' ("concept"), but, as Radrizzani points out, "con-
sciousness" makes more sense in this context.
12
s "Die Einbildungskraft und ihre ganze Function ist blofl die Moglichkeit des Handeln
des Ich in seinem Bestimmen anzusehen." Cp. H: "[ ... ] des Handeln des lch und seinem
Bestimmen anzusehen" ("to view the acting of the I and its act of determining").
124
"lm Denken ist kein Flieflen, da ist Iauter Stehen."
zz If, despite this, consciousness of this flowing is supposed to be the basis of all con·
sciousness, then it follows that the basis of all consciousness must originate with and be
mediated by acting, that is, by the power of imagination (p. 224).
125
Reading, with Krause's MS, "Einbilden" for K's "Einbildung."
medium of the concept of a goal, which could occur only insofar as the
concept of a goal is, as it were, a tinted and differentiating 126 glass
{through which the object arises. This is how things stood in the synthe-
sis of causality, and} this is also what occurs in the case of the category of
substance. {Here too the determining subject is viewed only through the
medium of the process of pulling together and combining, and only by
being viewed in this manner does this subject become an active subject.
Thus, here too there is something that mediates and something medi-
ated, as in the synthesis of causality.} The difference between the cate-
gory of substance and that of causality is that what is determined in the
former case is not something that first comes into being by means of this
synthesisAAA (as it does in the case of the synthesis of causality); instead,
{the object} is presupposed {along with} the pure act of thinking by
means of which the act of {self-}determining first comes into being. 127
• Previously, {in the synthesis of causality,} we considered one thing to
be, in a certain respect, a mediating subject and something else to be
what was mediated thereby. The situation here {in the primary
synthesis} is different: the elements of the manifold are thought of
alongside one another, {and one is not thought of[only] through the me-
dium of another}. They are thought of in a relationship of reciprocal in-
teraction rather than one of dependence. Such a manifold, however, is
not dismembered, in the manner of a manifold whose members are alien
to one another; instead, {all the points} mesh with one another and are
likewise 128 mediated {by one another-not in such a way that one point
is, in a certain respect, only mediating and not at the same time
mediated,} but only in such a way {that each is in the same respect me-
diating and mediated and} the predicates of one apply to the other. Each
is viewed through the medium of the other. Accordingly, the original act
involved in the present synthesis is, so to speak, "twofold"; indeed, it
could not be otherwise with the original act of the I, which is always two-
fold. {In this duality one thing is viewed through the medium of the
other.}
Elucidation: {Let us consider more closely what has just been said, and (226)
we will discover one of the most important results of the
Wissenschaftslehre.} The determination of the mind I am now discussing
{is a single point or act, which} contains within itself the main threads
'i and basic elements of consciousness in its entirety. This is a distinctive
~I 126
Reading, with H, "spaltendes" for K's "gespaltenes" ("cracked").
AAA [ ••• )
127
by means of the act of determining (p. 225).
"dall ein reines Denken wodurch das Bestimmen erst enstanden ware vorausgesezt
i: wird." This passage actually states "that a pure act of thinking, by means of which the act
of determining would first arise, is presupposed." This makes little sense in the present
ii
I' context, however, and is consequently emended in the light of the parallel passage in H:
i), "dall mit dem reinen Denken wodurch das sich bestimmen erst entstanden ware, d. Object
!i!
II'
vorausgesezt wird."
128
"I Reading, with H, "gleichfals" forK's "gleichsam" ("so to speak").
::I
!l
l]l
jd
,,
feature of the Wissenschaftsll!hre. Other philosophies present a simple act
of thinking in a merely mechanical series, and not, {like the Wissen-
schaftslehre, a compound act of thinking} in an organic series. Our
physics 129 is related to the usual sort of physics in the same way {that our
metaphysics is related to the usual sort of metaphysics}: whereas mech-
anism rules everywhere in the usual physics, {organicism rules every-
where in ours}. The Fichtean variety of physics recognizes no simple
force = A; instead, it treats every A as a collection of several forces that
reciprocally interact with one another. {Every point represents a concen-
tration of all the forces. This is also the case in our metaphysics.} Accord- ~
210 ingly, the Wissenschaftslehre is organic and discursive. The Wifsen.schaftslehre
contains nothing but syntheses. The synthesis we are presently consid-
ering, {the one we have called "A,"} is the fundamental synthesis, within
which discursive thinking first arises. A tree, for example, is constituted
by a certain organic force, not by sap, bark, a trunk, etc., {which are
products of this organic force}. So here with consciousness: the inner na-
ture of consciousness does not consist of thinking in time or of an end-
less chain of causes and effects. These constitute, so to speak, the leaves,
the sap, and the fruit [of consciousness]; the inner nature of conscious-
ness, {i.e., synthesis A, from which the former are produced,} is origi-
nally unitary.
• This synthesis { = A} contains two series, both of which begin with A,
the act of determining myself. On the one side there arises a determi-
nate being, 130 by means of which a product in the sensible world is ob-
served. Viewed from the other side [of the central synthesis] this is also
an act of self-determining, but here it appears as an agility, viewed
through the medium of the manifold of that which I could determine
myself to become. 888
• Both aspects ofsynthesisA are united in a single moment. No relation-
ship of [simple] dependence is present in this moment, but mediation
129
, '1 "Fichtes Physik." Just as Kant found room within his Critical philosophy for a treat-
ment of the "metaphysical fint principles of the natural sciences," in which he discussed,
in general terms, the applicability of the categories to nature, so too, Fichte considered
"natural philosophy" to constitute a distinct portion of the entire system of the Wissen-
.chajulehre. Despite the reference to "Fichte's physics," however, he never published any-
thing under this title nor did he ever lecture on this topic, though scattered comments on
it can be found in his various published and unpublished writings (for example, in § 19,
below). For an informed discussion of "Fichte's physics" which emphasizes the crucial dif-
ferences between the transcendental theory of natural science developed by Kant and
Fichte and the very different sort of speculative NalurphiiM<JfJIIU advocated by Schelling
and Hegel, see Reinhard Lauth, IN traruundenlale Nalurkhre FichUs nach den Prinz.ipim der
Wi.Jsen.u:hajukhre (Hamburg: Meiner, 1984).
"" "Bestimmtsein."
888
We have a double series in synthesis A. It commences with an act of self-
determining, through the medium of which I observe a determinate being-through the
medium of which [in turn] I observe an object in the sensible world. lbis is the first series.
On the other side there is again an act of self-determining, which I view through the me-
dium of the imagination as something determinable, as an agility to which I could deter-
mine myself. This is the second series (p. 226).
is present nevertheless. The mediation that is present here is not the
sort in which one term is viewed through the other, but not vice versa;
instead, they are here related through reciprocal interaction. In a rela-
tionship of this sort, a is present by means of b and, in the same respect,
b is present by means of a; {both are lenses, and} each is viewed through
the other. {This is [a relationship of] absolute simultaneity, reciprocity.}
The situation is as follows: First there is a pure act of thinking which
determines itself. Within the synthesis, this pure act of thinking is
{posited as} viewed through the medium of the imagination and is itself
made sensible {thereby}. In this process of sensibilization, the pure con-
cept of a goal is transformed into the determinacy of a sensible force,
and what is thereby produced is itself a sensible object.ccc
{I am an intellect, and thus my determinations are nothing but acts of
pure thinking. Nevertheless, I view myself as a sensuous force, as exer-
cising an effect upon sensible objects and producing sensible products.
How is this possible? The dogmatist will answer this question by appeal-
ing to the influence exercised upon us by external matter. But we who
are not dogmatists must show how pure thinking is transformed into a (2~
sensuous force. This has now been accomplished. The transformation in
question occurs as a result of the fact that I can observe my own pure
thinking only through the medium of-a sensuous vehicle, through which
my act of pure thinking itself becomes sensible.} Here we must examine,
first of all in a general way, how the intellect comes to ascribe to itself a
sensuous force, i.e., a body, and how it is able to ascribe to itself an ex-
pression of the force of the latter, {i.e, a determination of this body}. An
expression of the body's force is nothing whatsoever but an act of pure
thinking, simply viewed through the medium of the imagination. My act
of thinking that my hand moves is identical with the {actual} movement
of my hand: when I am immediately conscious of this, it is an act of
thinking; whereas, when I consider it through the medium of the imag-
ination, it is an {actual} movement. The entire {sensible} world is con-
nected with this process by means of which [the intellect] is made
sensible. In the present case, this process of sensibilization extends
merely to something determinate.
Dogmatists who {consider the world to be something that exists by it-
self and who} nevertheless retain their moral and religious sentiments
have to say that God created the world. {They cannot, however, explain
this any further; for no understanding is produced, no matter how the
211 dogmatist construes this claim.} The dogmatists consider God to be a
pure intellect, the determinations of which can surely consist in nothing
but concepts. This is also how the I has been considered here: it is a
ccc In this process of sensibilization, the pure <:oncept of a goal becomes a determinacy,
a sensuous force; and what is produced by this sensuous or sensible force becomes a sen-
sible object (p. u6).
{pure} intellect, and its determinations are nothing but pure concepts. A
material world is also present for the I, and therefore these pure con-
cepts must transform themselves into a material world-though only
into one that exists purely for the intellect. In the case of God, in con-
trast, these pure concepts must be transformed into a self-sufficient ma-
terial world, one that also exists for another intellect {- which is quite
unintelligible}. 000 The transcendental idealist has to explain only the
former process; i.e., he has to show how the pure concepts {of a finite
intellect}, considered in a certain way, transform themselves into mate-
rial substances, {[that is,] into a material world for this intellect-which
is something that can and should be shown by the philosopher}. We have
now described this process up to the point where we ourselves are made
sensible.
{The concepts of the intellect are transformed in the manner de-
scribed: inasmuch as we view these concepts through the medium of the
imagination we arrive at an act of determining ourselves in a sensible
manner; and by means of this act of determining, in accordance with the
previously indicated laws, we arrive at a determinate object.} A pure
concept is made sensible: this was the first element in the synthesis. The
imagination is viewed through the medium of pure thinking and {what
is determinable} thereby becomes determinate, and there then arises a
process of reciprocal interaction, by means of which what is originally
determinable itself becomes a whole, a system: 131 this is the second el-
ement. {If this determinable [whole] is related to the determining
subject,} it becomes a body {for me}. But if it is related to what is deter- (228)
minate without any assistance from us, {it becomes} the entire {sensible}
world.
• The entire structure 132 of the I is based upon the act of determining
and what is determined. {1-hood consists in the division of the I into a
subjective and an objective [I]. This is the fundamental law. When I be-
come conscious of 1-hood, a split occurs between the ideal and the real,
which are originally one. What is real or objective is, in turn, both a de-
termining agency and something determinate.} What is determinable in
DDD God is a pure intellect; such an intellect, however, must also possess pure concepts.
But how are these concepts supposed to be transformed into matter? To be sure, this is also
the situation within transcendental idealism: the I is a pure intellect, and it must therefore
also possess pure concepts, and these must transform themselves into a material world.
There is a great difference, however, between the alleged sensibilization of the concepts of
an infinite intellect and the sensibilization of the concepts of a finite intellect: the sensible
world that is produced by the finite intellect exists only for this intellect itself and for no
other intellect; accordingly, its pure concepts have to be sensibilized and become matter
only for itself. The sensible world produced by God, however, is supposed to be such for an
finite intellect-which is quite unintelligible (p. 227).
131
Reading, with H, "zu einem Ganzen, zu einem Systeme" for K's "zu einem ganzen
Systeme" ("becomes an entire system").
132
"die ganze Eintheilung" (more literally: "the entire division").
this first case lies {on the other side [of the synthesis], in what is ideal,}
in substance; and insofar as this is {not grasped simply by the imagina-
tion alone, but is also} grasped by pure thinking, it is [grasped] as a
whole, for thinking is always a whole. Furthermore, insofar as this de-
terminable whole is referred to the duality of the act of determining and
determinate being, it itself appears as a whole in two different ways: in
relation to the determining subject, what is determinable is my body; in
relation to a determinate being, what is determinable is the entire
world. Thus {we here obtain an important result:} I X; I as soul and
I as body: these are simply two different aspects of the very same thing.
Furthermore, I as body and the sensible world outside of me are also
particular aspects of one and the same thing. {I X, body, mind, and
sensible world; these are simply different ways of looking at exactly the
same thing. This constitutes the spirit of the Wissenschaftslehre.}
• Everything in the Wissenschaftslehre is based upon this dual aspect {of
consciousness. Consciousness in its entirety is a synthesis, which includes
a highest, subjective term X and a lowest, objective one = matter in
space.} Between what is highest (I = X), and what is lowest (formless
substance) there lie various elements that, in their twofold relationship
to what is highest and what is lowest, are subjective {in relation to what
is lowest, to matter,} and objective {in relation to what is highest}. How-
ever, {all these are one, and} I myself am always the {sole} object {of con-
sciousness; and I continuously divide myself in accordance with the laws
of consciousness itself. This is now dearly and plainly evident.}
• For myself, I am incomprehensible, a subject-object. Within experi-
ence, I divide myself into a subject and an object, which, to be sure,
should be thought of as originally one. EEE This I of empirical conscious-
2 12 ness can be posited only within time, and when it is posited in this way,
it is the soul. When this same I is made sensible in space it is the body-
which, in turn, is nothing other than the world. Everything {- the pure
I, the mind, the soul, the body, the world-} is one and the same, simply
regarded each time under a different aspect.
• {We assert, first of all, that} in synthesis A pure thinking is viewed
through the medium of the imagination, and {second, that in synthesis
A} the imagination is viewed through the medium of pure thinking. The
duality {contained in the synthesis} arises in this way, and the concept of
substantialityFFF becomes complete {thereby as well}; i.e., {(A)} it be-
comes a self-contained, 133 {limited} quantum. Moreover, {(B)} an acci-
dent is related to this substance and viewed through the medium of the
EEE When I become comprehensible to myself, or when I become conscious, I divide my-
self into a sul:!ject and an object, which, to be sure, are viewed as one in my empirical I
(p. 228).
FFF [ ••• ] the concept of substance (p. 228}.
1
" "geschloflenes.
§ 17 421
latter. {Accordingly, when I view the noumenon through the imagina- (229)
tion, and thereby observe its self-contained character, it becomes for me
a substance. [On the other hand,] when I view what is substantial
through the medium of pure thinking, it then becomes for me, in this
respect, an accident.} In relation to the determining subject, the acci-
dent related to this substance is the individual act that is selected from
the manifold of possible acts {and is then comprehended}. In relation to
what is determinate, the accident related to this substance is the partic-
ular matter that is chosen from all the rest. {[I.e.,] of all the possible
modifications of what is determinate, this one is selected and is related
to the substance.} When what is observed is the determining subject,
then I am the substance- which is how I appear to myself from the
point of view of ordinary consciousness, where I am a body. When what
is observed is what is determinate, then the world is the substance. With
respect to me, what is,determinate [i.e., the "accident" of my "substan-
tial" body] is my own act-e.g., the movement of my hand. As related to
the world, this same determinate something is an accident that is accom-
plished in the sensible world by the determining subject-e.g., the let-
ters I have written.GGG
Remark: Substantiality cannot be thought of apart from causality, nor
can causality be thought of apart from substance. {Admittedly, from
Kant's account of these it might seem as if this were possible. This is why
Platner asked how substantiality could exist without causality. 134} An ac-
cident is never anything other than a determinate expression of the in-
ner force, and hence [an instance of] the efficacy of the latter. Substance
would be the power to act efficaciously, 135 a power that is always consid-
ered capable of producing a variety of different effects. Conversely, ef-
ficacy cannot be thought of except in relation to some {inner} force, and
the force in question is identical to the innermost core of substance
itself. 136 • HHH {There is thus no causality apart from substantiality.} The
synthesis of these two categories {of causality and substantiality} is the
category of reciprocal interaction, which is based upon the necessity of
deriving the external power from the pure power, and vice versa. 111
Reciprocal interaction is the category of categories. Substantiality and
causality are coordinated with each other, but both are subordinate to
the category of reciprocal interaction. {Everything proceeds from the
GGG What is determinate with relation to me is my act; when this same accident is re-
lated to the world, then it is the matter that is produced by this determination (p. 229).
154
See Ernst Platner, Philasophischen Aphori.smen, Part I ( 1793), § 768 ( = AA II, 45: 2 16-
17).
155
"das Wiirkende Vermogen."
156
"ist gleich dem CENTRUM des Innern der SuBSTANZ selbst."
HHH This inner force is the inner root and inner substrate (p. 229).
111
The syntheses of causality and subslantiality are thought of together in [the category
of] reciprocal interaction, which is necessarily based upon the union of these two catego-
ries (p. 229).
422 § •7
§ 17
As we know, the I is what acts upon itself, 138 and, by virtue of this self-
directed activity, it is a willing subject. "The I discovers itself'': this ob-
viously means that it discovers itself to be engaged in acting upon itself.
The I discovers itself to be a willing subject in this self-directed activity,
because its original nature-which cannot be derived from anything
higher,JJJ but must instead be presupposed for {the possibility of} any
explanation-consists in an act of willing. Every object of {the I's} free
reflection upon itself must consequently become its own willing.
Remark A: {The view we have of our own willing is itself a sensible
one.} Willing is first of all a self-active or spontaneous act of determin-
ing. Every {intuition of an} act of determining is mediated by the imag-
ination. {All determining} is an active {self-}determining in which one
determines a concept of a goal, {an act of determining through which a
real, determinate object is posited. Therefore, every act of willing ac-
tively determines a concept of a goal, by which, in turn, an object is sup-
posed to be determined. This is what distinguishes an act of willing from
a purely objective act of thinking. The opposition between the thing and
the concept [of a goal], however, as well as the connection between them,
1
~ 7 See KRV, B11o-11.
1
~ 8 Reading, with H, "das auf sich selbst thatige" for K's "das durch sich selbst thatige"
("what is active through itself"), a reading that is confirmed by the rest of this paragraph.
ill [ ... 1which cannot be explained any further [ ... 1 (p. 230).
is something purely sensible, which is made possible by the power of
imagination.} Consequently, the entire concept of willing is sensible. Ev-
ery act of willing is an appearance, and pure willing is presupposed
merely in order to explain {actual willing. It is never present within an
act of empirical willing, and this is precisely why it is incomprehensible
and why we are unable to think of it.} It cannot be grasped by our rep-
resentations, nor can it be grasped by our language, {for we ourselves
are sensible}. ["Pure willing,"] "absolute selfhood," "autonomy," "free-
dom": these expressions are all equally incomprehensible. Freedom can
be described only negatively: as not being determined. {Kant said (and
so do we) that freedom, negatively defined, is the power to be the first (:
rather than the second [member of a series]. 139 It can be positively de-
fined as the power to make an absolute beginning.} Again, this is a sen-
sible definition. {Therefore, what has to be explained remains
incomprehensible to us.} In short, pure willing is what makes it possible
for me to think of myself as self-active, {as a cause}-i.e., to think of my-
self as "1." Pure willing is the material [element] in all consciousness. In
order to explain the formal {[element] within consciousness}, one has to
presuppose an act of reflection. This ( = X) {is something twofold, which
all explanation has to presuppose; it} is the absolute, which is nothing
but a foundation or ground {and does not itself possess a foundation in
anything else}. It contains within itself something absolutely subjective
{( = a power to be subjective, namely, reflection)} and something abso-
lutely objective {( = a power to be objective, namely, pure thinking). Ev-
ery explanation presupposes this twofold [X] as something that cannot
be explained any further. Everything else has to be explained on the ba-
sis of these two elements.}
428 § 18
c This determinacy, or this noumenon, can be looked at in two ways (p. 235).
7
Reading "als das Bestimmen meiner selbst" for H's "als durch das Bestimmen meiner
selbst."
• "So giebt es lr.ein Handeln ohne eine Handlung die beabsichtigt wird."
430 § 18
(2) Considered from one side, my state within the original synthesis is {a
determinate one,} an act of real thinking; hence it is impossible that this
c218 same state could also be an indeterminate one. Accordingly, the act of
ideal thinking, which also occurs within this same state, must itself be
determined along with the latter.
This does not mean that the act of ideal thinking loses its ideal char-
acter. Both [ideal and real thinking] must subsist 10 alongside each other,
for otherwise no I could subsist. {Therefore, both real and ideal thinking
occur in a single state of synthesis. Real thinking is a determinate act of
thinking, and ideal thinking is an indeterminate one. How can some-
thing indeterminate be present here? It cannot remain indeterminate;
consequently, determinacy must also be related to ideal thinking. This,
however, does not mean that, as a result of this determinacy, the act of
ideal thinking must lose its distinctive character. Instead, it must subsist
together with the act of determining. It should be and must remain an
act of ideal thinking, for otherwise I would have no I. The distinctive
character of ideal thinking and the determinate being of the same sub-
sist together by virtue of the following:} Freedom as such, the act of de-
termining, the sheer power [of the 1], is itself posited as something
determinate. 11 As a soul, the I itself becomes a substance possessing a
power that is determined in a certain, specific way. {Its state remains
unchanged;} it neither increases nor decreases (we are not referring
9
Reading, with H, "Denke ich dieses zu thun, dieses Be$timmen" for K's "Denke ich
dieses bestimmte" ("when I think of what is determinate in this case").
10
"bestehen."
11
"die Freiheit als solche, das Bestimmen, das bloJk Vermogen wird selbst gesezt als ein
bloJks Vermogen." Reading, with H, "als ein Bestimmtes" for the second occurrence of the
phrase "eine blojks Vermogen" in K (presumably an error of transcription on Krause's
pan).
432 § 18
mer semester of 1797), much of which was copied by the same student who prepared the
Kollq;nachschrift of K, C. K. F. Krause, includes the following commentary on§ 145 of Plat-
ner's book, here translated in full:
"/think. I am. 'Bein§' designates something stable and fixed. The being of matter in par-
ticular is so constant' that it offers resistance. Thinking is a kind of acting, and acting, as
sucb, possesses no constancy, but only agility, in which nothing present at one moment is
present in the next. It follows from what Platner says that I discover myself pardy as acting
and pardy as existing. Simply by intuiting an instance of acting, I discover myself as acting.
I also discover myself as existing, but not in this way. Everything material, everything that
constrains activity, is a being. But insofar as it is an act of thinking, all ideal activity is always
constrained and fixed. It is always directed at something, and the object at which it is
directed is a being. Consequendy, if my act of thinking is directed at myself, then I am
a being.
"I am awakened to consciousness and have thought of A, B, C, D, etc. In all these
thoughts I have remained the same I, the thinking subject. A certain amount of time has
elapsed for me while I was thinking these thoughts, and I have always been and remained
the same I throughout this time. Here, says Platner, we do indeed encounter constancy,
being. But we do not have to resort to this [in order to explain the being of the 1], nor does
this really explain anything. Even while I am thinking of A, I must already think of myself
as existing. I am the thinking subject who is thinking of A. The act of thinking of A is one
of my accidental properties, and all accidents are referred to a substance. Therefore, just
as surely as I comprehend that I am thinking of A, I also comprehend myself as existing;
i.e., I conceive of myself as being able to think witlwul thinking of A and as being able to
feel and to will as well. I construe myself as a substa.nce. I cannot posit any determinacy
whatsoever apart from determinability. I cannot posit anything particular without assum-
ing the existence of something general, from which what is particular is supposed to have
arisen. Consequendy, I cannot posit myself as determined to think of A without also think-
ing of myself as generally determinable. This is the act of thinking of [my own] being.
Therefore, 'I am' is united with 'I think.' But the representation of a being does not arise
as a consequence of combining a manifold of thinking with the identity of the same.
"Thus we have now shown that the representation of a being must necessarily be present
within the l's representation of itself. Therefore, what we have been talking about here is
the being of the I for itself.
"The concept of myself does not arise by means of abstraction, as Platner claimed. This
claim has been refuted.
"The concept of the being of the I does arise by means of abstraction. The concept of the
I's thinking arises through a determinate aa of thinking, but the concept of the I precedes
all thinking.
"'I am, I think': This is supposed to be a feeling. But this 'I am, I think,' as a whole, 17
is not a feeling; it is a thought. It is a feeling only insofar as I discover myself to be limited.
I can indeed say, 'I feel myself to be limited.' But I cannot say, 'I have a feeling of myself
as such or in general.' Instead, I have to say, 'I intuit myself as such'-and indeed, intel-
lectually.
"We have already explained the general nature of intuition: I look at something, and [at
the same time] I produce something by means of the power of imagination. This, however,
is possible only in cases where absolute opposites are present. The intuition of the I is
something entirely different, which consists in my knowledge of my own acting. I have
knowledge of my own acting because I myself accomplish it, and I discover myself therein.
"Many objections have been raised against this intellectual intuition, and this is surely
because Kant expressly denies intellectual intuition. But by 'intellectual intuition' Kant
means something entirely different than we do. What he calls intellectual intuition is
something that cannot even be thought of: one is supposed to look at something, as in the
case of sensible intuition, and yet one is supposed to intuit it in such a way that it thereby
comes into being 'in itself.' God-if we could think of God-would possess intellectual in-
tuition of the sort described by Kant. His thinking would be an act of objective creation, a
creation of the thing in itself. This is why we cannot think of what Kant describes: because
§ I8 435
thing given. In addition, this same determinacy is supposed to be a lim-
itation of freedom as such; and insofar as it is such a limitation, freedom
has to remain. To say that freedom is limited {as freedom} can never
mean that freedom can extend only so far and no further; for if this
'were true, then freedom would not be limited as freedom, {but would
instead possess its own limits and end, and} there would exist {nothing
more than} a specific quantum of freedom. But we explicitly asserted
that the determinacy in question is supposed to constitute a limitation of
freedom as such; freedom must also {be able to} extend even beyond this
limitation, which must not be a purely mechanical limitation of [my]_
force.E Thus, the limitation in question must be such that, though free-
dom could indeed extend itself further, it does not do so; and the reason
it does not do so lies within freedom itself. {It possesses the ground of its
limitation within itself; it is limited by itself.} We obtain this concept
through the process of assembling it in this manner. A limitation that
arises out of freedom is and must be a self-limitation, {and this is what
must provide the limitation of freedom as such}. Nevertheless, this lim-
itation is also supposed to be something in itself, {though not anything
"objective," a "being"; instead, it is supposed to be} a necessary act of
thinking {of a self-limitation}. Therefore, the limit in question (i.e., the
one that would come into being {through the determinacy of freedom,}
by means of the act of determining what is ideal) would be a necessary
act of thinking of a self-limitation. Such a limitation, however, is an
"ought," 19 whereas, in contrast, the determinacy of being is a "must." If
:20 one thinks [merely] of the fact that this "ought" is something given, 20
then it does not appear to us to be something that we ourselves have
produced and whose ground lies within us; instead, it simply is what it is
and is present for us because we are compelled to think of it. Neverthe-
less, this is a determinacy of freedom, a determinacy 21 one does not dis-
cover, as one does in the case of real, sensuous thinking. This is a
determinacy that one ought to produce; but that one ought to do this is
itself something one discovers. Accordingly, this is a task that necessarily
has to be thought of, {an Idea}. And it is precisely the essence of an Idea
that one {produces nothing by means of it, but} can only construct a rule
in accordance with which the Idea in question-the Idea of infinite
space, for example-is supposed to come into being, {if it could be
brought into being. This task, however, is not one that is left to our own
free choice, and it does not depend upon whether we want to impose it
22
"Aber diese Aufgabe isl nichl unsrer Willkiihr iiberlajkn, ob wir sie uns auflegen wol-
len oder nicht."
2
s See Da.s System tier SiUenlehre, chap. I, "Deduction of the Principle of Morality" (SW,
IV: 13-62).
FAll thai remains is the task of limiting oneself in the employment of one's own freedom
(p. 240).
21
"Die Gottheit."
20
"also auch das Bestimmbare ist Geistigkeit."
§ 18 437
I myself, as an individual, originate in a genetic fashion. I produce 26 my-
self as an individual by selecting myself from the {mass of what is deter-
minable, that is, from the} kingdom of rational beings.
fl;be "pure I" of the published Wissenschaftslehre is to be understood as
reason as such or in general, which is something quite different from
personal I-hood.} What is the origin of pure, unlimited 1-hood, and
what is the origin of empirical I-hood? The Iauer concept is generated
by an act of selecting-just like the concept of this stove. The difference
is that the concept of myself as an individual is selected from the sphere
of all rational beings. G {From what has been said so far,} it must now 27 be (241-)
dear that:
{(A) No self-consciousness is possible apart from a consciousness of
individuality.
4Q (B)} The "ought," or the categorical imperative, is also a theoretical
principle.
What forces us to assume the existence of rational beings similar to
but outside of ourselves? {Whenever we think of something determinate
we must also think of something determinable. We are thereby driven to
the assumption that there is a world of rational beings outside of our-
selves. "I am a person"; this means that I am limited. This limitation is
a duty, and individuality consists in being limited in consequence of duty.
We have established the principle that self-consciousness arises
through the unification of ideal and real thinking, for the I itself first
comes into being by means of this unification. These two types of think-
ing are united in a single act of thinking; therefore, each of them must
be determined by the other. A subject, or an individual, is produced
when an act of ideal thinking is determined by an act of real thinking.}
(4) {Until now, we have related the act of real thinking to the ideal one.}
We will now relate the act of ideal thinking to the real one. Determinacy
or fixedness 28 is the chief characteristic of what is real-both as an act of
thinking and as the subject that comes into being thereby. H When we
think of something real our thinking comes, so to speak, to a halt and is
no longer in motion, as in the case of an act of ideal thinking. What then
is thought of in such an act of real thinking? [Answer: the object of real
26
Reading, with H, "erzeuge" forK's "erzeige" ("come to see").
G The relationship between these two concepu (the concept of reason in general and
that of individuality) is derived entirely from 1he fact that the concept of the individual is
produced by an acl of selec1ing from the mass of the manifold (pp. 24<>-41 ).
27
Reading "nun" for K's "nur" ("'only").
28
"fixirtsein."
"In this context, we must constantly bear in mind the character of "real thinking,"
which consists in determinate fixedness-{and this applies to both] thinking as a subjeclive
determinacy and the act of thinking of an object, by means of which a real thing arises
(p.. ~41).
thinking is,] {according to what was said above,} the productive imagi-
nation; moreover, since this is where determinacy enters the picture,
[the object of real thinking is] the imagination in the very act of pro-
ducing something. {Consequently, the imagination is present not as a
productive process, but rather as a product, 29 which the philosopher ob-
serves from a higher standpoint.} What is thought of in an act of real
thinking is thus a product of the imagination, but what is this? The
imagination synthesizes [i.e., synthetically unifies] an infinitely divisible
manifold; but this manifold is here something stable,~ 0 since it is an ob-
ject of real activity. For this reason, what we observe is not this manifold
itself, but rather the single, unified thint• {that the imagination has
synthesized from the infinite manifold}. This {single, unified thing} we
observe is {not infinitely divided; instead, it is merely} something that is
infinitely divisible: divisible stuff, matter in space. It is precisely by
means of this act of unifying the manifold and directing our attention
entirely to the unification itself that this manifold becomes transformed
into matter. {This is the act of real thinking} to which ideal thinking now
becomes related. {The act of real thinking is viewed through the me-
dium of the act of ideal thinking,} and this has an effect upon real think-
ing, which preserves within itself the imprint of ideal thinking. {These
two acts of thinking are inseparably united with each other;} that is to (24 ·
say, in the very state in which I think in a determinate manner, I also
think in a free and spiritual manner, 32 and consequently, this freedom
must also exercise some influence upon my determinate thinking and
must leave some trace of itself there. What then is this {trace? What is
this} product of ideal thinking which is present within what is determi-
nate? This product is nothing other than ideal thinking itself; thus what
is {real and} determinate must nevertheless contain within itself an act of
self-determining, selfhood, and freedom.
• What is real is inert, dead matter, 33 but this is thought of by a freely
active being and is a particular determination of the same; consequent1y,
it must surely bear within itself some imprint of this free being, and only
thereby can what is real become an object for a free being. {This imprint
can be nothing but freedom or selfhood. This, however, makes no sense,
for matter possesses neither activity nor freedom. Its very essence con-
sists in the determinacy of a mere being. Its} absoluteness cannot be the
absoluteness of acting; it can only be the absoluteness of a being, of a
being that is what it is by virtue of its very nature, i.e., through its own
determinacy. {Insofar as selfhood and freedom are related to this stuff,}
matter becomes something {subsisting} in itself.and through itself, a self-
29 "so k.omt nicht die Einbildungshaft als PRODUCIIU:ND sonde~n als PRODUCT vo~."
go "etwas stehendes."
.!ll "'die eine."
2
g "in demselben Zustande nehmlich da ich bestimmt denke denke ich zugleich geistig
und frei."
gg "ist liegende todte Mate~ie."
§ !8 439
sufficient, {objective} thing. Whereas matter was previously something I
merely entertained the thought of, 34 it [now] becomes for me something
given, an object that is present without any help whatsoever from me.
{The act of thinking of such an object is a determinacy of myself; but,}
since I am nothing but what is free, all limitation lies outside of me, {and
it [what limits me] therefore appears to me to be something produced by
and through itself}. What limits [me] is now supposed to be something
22 that, by itself, is what it is. Here, as in the case of the necessary task
{discussed above}, something is present without any assistance from us. I
{as an individual} select myself from a mass of what is determinable; I '
cannot go beyond the boundary of what is limited. {As a determinate
individual, I enter the sphere of what is determinable, which thus ap-
pears to me to be something that limits me, something that is external to
me. Now we can apply here something that was said above:} there is
{within consciousness} something that is highest and something that is
lowest. {I myself, as an individual determined by my duty, am what is
highest; and} what is determinable for spiritual or mental activity, {[i.e.,]
what is determinable as an individual,} is the realm of reason. 1 As for
what is lowest: I {also} view myself as something real, something that has
been made sensible; and the bottom-most sensibilization is my own
product {in the sensible world}, and, in addition to this, there is also
something determinable outside of me, namely, matter. But from where
does this matter come? Does it perhaps come from me myself? Does it
simply not occur to me that I myself have also produced matter? No, {at
the point where we now find ourselves, matter is not my product, for
here I have simply conferred self-sufficiency upon something that pre-
viously merely hovered before me}. Insofar as I, {as a self-sufficient
being,} think of matter, I must necessarily transfer [my own] self-
sufficiency to it; it becomes a being in and for itself, one that subsists on
its own. {Both the product of the ideal activity and the product of the
real activity exist without any help from us.} The difference between
them is as follows: {The product of the ideal activity is a concept (the
ethical law), whereas the product of the real activity is a material thing.}
By means of the act we have now described, the thing becomes a noume-
non, i.e., something produced by an act of free thinking. This very act of
absolute thinking is an act of sheer thinking, 35 one that extends
throughout our entire consciousness. It is present in {every act of imag-
ining and in} all empirical experience and confers internal solidity upon (2
everything produced by the imagination}
,.. "da es vorher blofl ein mir vorschwebendes war." More literally: "Whereas it previ-
ously was simply something that hovered before me."
1 [ ••• 1 is the realm of rational beings (p. 242).
35 "eben das absolute Denken ist ein sich Denken."
1 [ ... 1 and provides everything produced by the imagination with an inner "stuff' or
matter (p. 243).
440 § !8
(5) All this will become clearer if we think of each of these acts as limited,
[and then] unite the ideal act [of thinking] of what is determinate with
the determinate act [of thinking] of what is ideal. {But each of these acts
of thinking is a synthesis;} accordingly, {we will be} uniting syntheses
{with syntheses. (At present, we will be synthesizing the previously de-
scribed X andY.)} Our plan is simple: It is quite obvious that these acts
of thinking constitute but a single act of thinking, one that occurs in a
single moment, and hence they must certainly be united. We have al-
ready seen what arises from this unity [of ideal and real thinking]: {this
is precisely what constitutes I-hood}. The {act of thinking} just indicated
is nothing but [a synthesis of] a particular, determinate act of ideal
thinking and a particular, determinate act of real thinking. These two
acts are {therefore} also inseparable. The I comes into being through the
determinacy of ideal thinking. {The Not-I comes into being when the
real or determinate [act of thinking] is idealized and determined.} I ob-
serve the I by means of the thing and the thing by means of the I. The
former occurs insofar as I am able, in intuiting the object, to make free-
dom, {which characterizes the I,} into something real. 41 The latter oc-
curs only insofar as I make my concept of a goal into something real.N
{I cannot act without positing something as the object of my acting;
nor can I posit such an object unless I act. This is a relationship of re-
ciprocal interaction, as is the relationship between the I and the Not-1.
L [ ••• ] only through me [ ... ] (p. 244).
40
"vergeistert wird": "is made spiritual." Cp. ''versinnlicht'': "sensibilized."
M It is in consequence of this that the world consists of being, of passivity (p. 244).
41
"in wie fern ich die Freiheit in der Anschauung des Objects realisiren kann."
N Therefore, the former [the I] arises when I view what is ideal through the medium of
the thing and insofar as I can, in the intuition of an object, make the freedom that char-
acterizes the I into something real. The latter [the Not-1] arises when I view the thing
through the medium of what is ideal, insofar as I make a concept of a goal into something
real (p. 244).
442 § .s
There is no I apart from a Not-1 and no Not-1 apart from an I.} I do not
exist without a world, and my world does not exist without me. Our
present task is further to characterize in a certain {dual} manner both
the I and the world in terms of their reciprocal relation to-and insep-
arability from-each other.
224 The42 Not-1 {is further determined} through {its reciprocal interac-
tion with} the I. As we saw above, 43 the I is extended through time, be-
cause its acting possesses temporal duration. {And since the I never
discovers itself except as acting, it must always think of some time in con-
junction with itself.} The I exists at every time that one can think of.
Time and the efficacious action of freedom exist only through each
other. {We have now said that the I cannot be thought of apart from the (245) '
Not-1; consequently,} just as surely as the I itself is extended over time,
the Not-1, considered as something subsisting for itself, is thought of
along with the I. Thus the Not-I, considered as a thing, as a noumenon,
also occurs within time along with the I; and it [too] appears to be some-
thing that exists at every time, for the I is always accompanied by the
Not-1. The determinations the Not-1 obtains from the l's freedom, i.e.,
the accidents of the Not-1, are transformed into temporal relations by
the freedom of the I, which is related to them. (We are not yet talking
about the organization of nature.) 0 • 44
{We said above that time cannot be explained on the basis of the con-
cept of causality, because} cause and effect are {absolutely} simultaneous.
No time originates through the concept of causality; therefore, no time
originates within nature. P Time originates solely within the I, in the con- ''
cept of substantiality that is applied to the I when the I employs its
power of imagination to run through the various possibilities of action.
Insofar as the object is simply an object for the acting I, the object is
extended over time along with the I itse]f.Q At the same time, this fur-
nishes the determinability of the object for the efficacy of the I, and this
fills the gap to which we have already called attention {at the beginning
of this §}. That is, we could not infer [the existence of] anything unless
it were a product of the I's efficacy. Within experience, R however, some-
thing else is present, a second sort of thing: that upon which we act
when we engage in productive activity. {We have here indicated what
sort of thing this is;} it is the Not-1, considered as a noumenon, along
42
In K, but not in H, this paragraph is labeled ''(A)," a heading that is here omitted, ;,,
since this section includes no paragraphs "(B)," etc.
43
See above, § 12, sect. 3·
0
(Here we are not discussing the se]f..development of nature) (p. 245).
44
This topic is discussed in § 19.
P Therefore, no time can originate by means of the concept of causality, and nature does
not originate within any time (p. 245).
Q The thing is extended over time only because the I posits itself within time (p. 245).
R Within ordinary consciousness [ ... ] (p. 245).
§ !8 443
with the appearance that is inseparable from this noumenon. This Not-I
is present at all times; it is something that is simply given {to us} and is
present without any assistance from us. Our efficacy is directed at this
Not-I, and this alters the appearance; yet this occurs in such a way that
what is permanent therein, which is the objectification of our own self-
sufficiency, always remains 45 • 5 {unchanged}, because our own self-
sufficiency is {constantly} objectified {in the manner indicated}.
• This {(that is, how this occurs)} is something that cannot be grasped
conceptually. 46 When I act efficaciously, I certainly alter the entire thing
[upon which I act], for the thing in question is always a progression from
opposed states to opposed states. And yet this same thing is supposed to
remain {the same} forever. Nothing endures but the act of thinking of
the thing, {along with what arises from my act of thinking of it, namely,}
the noumenon. The identity of consciousness depends upon this.
• The indivisible union of the noumenon and the phenomenon can
best be explained with reference to the thing, considered as something
determinable, something that is supposed to be given to us before we
225 can have any effect upon it. This determinable thing is not formless; in-
stead, it always appears to us to possess some shape or form. 47 The self-
supported subsistence, 48 by means of which it first becomes a thing, is
present only as a result of thinking. The form, on the other hand, is pro-
duced by the imagination.T This form, however, is nothing but the mud-
dled presentation of all the various possibilities for acting which are
expressed in the thing, that is, a muddled presentation of all that I could
make from it. 0 [If] I now begin to act upon this thing and alter its form
completely, what is it that endures throughout the time I am acting
upon this thing, {from the time when I begin to act upon it to the point
when my acting is finished}? All that endures is my own thinking, along
with the muddled presentation of all the things I could do-though I
45
"so da~ das Dauernde de~lben immer bleibe, an dem unsre eigene Selbstandigkeit
ob4ectivisirt wird."
This [i.e., the Not-I qua noumenon and appearance] is given to us at all times and is
present without any assistance from us. Our efficacy is directed at this Not-I, and in such
a way that what is posited remains unchanged, because our own self-sufficiency is always
obiectified in the manner indicated (p. 245).
6
"Unbegreiflich ists."
47 Reading, with Krause's MS, "immer als gestaltetes" for K's "nur als gestaltlos."
48
"das Bestehen durch sich selbst."
T The determinable something that is supposed to be given and upon which I have not
yet exercised any effect is not something formal, something lacking content. 49 Instead, it
appears to have some form, to subsist on its own, and it is also by virtue of this that it ac-
tually becomes a thing. Insofar as the thing obtains self-sufficiency by means of my think-
ing, it is a noumenon; insofar as it obtains its form from the imagination and not from
thinking, however, it is a phenomenon (p. 245).
49
"ist nichts formales, nicht ohne Sto~." Reading "StoEP' for H's "StoW' ("impact").
u It is the union of the muddled possibilities of action to which I can determine myself
(p. 245>·
444 § 1 8
never actually do more than one of these things.v (Example: a tree from
which one can cut one piece after another, etc. This example applies
only to the efficacy that is present in thoughts.) This is why Fichte has
said elsewhere, {in the journal;~ 0} that the substance is the same as {all}
the accidents, considered in [their] union with one another. {This con-
stitutes the material of substance;} its form is the unifying act of
thinking;~• and this is the ideal act of thinking of the act of determining.
In relation to our own possible efficacy, every thing is nothing but a re-
establishment of the quantum of this efficacy:~ 2 {It is a thing [only] in-
sofar as I, a subject who possesses self-sufficiency, posit it and transfer
thereto [my own] possibilities of action.}
• Our task is completed. We had to establish the act of ideal thinking
and the act of real thinking as themselves forming a complete synthesis,
and this has been done. {The parts of the synthesis, which we previously
labeled 13, y, b, and g, are united and determined through one another.}
We have indicated what is determinable in each [series, that is, y = what
is determinable in the ideal series, and g = what is determinable in the
real series], and each of these elements is determined by another. l3
( = my own determinacy) is united with y ( = the realm of rational be-
ings as such). Moreover, b ( = the determinacy of my efficacious acting,
considered as a sensuous act) is united with g 53 ( = the object at which
{the determinacy of} this efficacious acting is directed). All these ele-
ments are now united with one another, inasmuch as, since54 I am par-
tially an individual and partially a [pure] mind, I am unable to observe
myself without also observing a thing-which, when it is adjacent to me,
is my own product and, when it is distant from me, is an object (matter).
{An object that subsists on its own arises because I am unable to think of
my own identity as an active intellect without [also thinking of] a thing,
which, in the process of sensibilization, I make into a product of my own
v [ , . , ] along with the muddled presentation of all the things I can do, and, in partic-
ular, of the one thing I actually do (p. 246).
50
This appears to be a reference to the following passage in the essay "On the Capacity
for Language and the Origin of the Same" ("Von der Sprachfii.higkeit und dem U rsprung
der Sprache"), which Fichte published in 1795 in the Philosophischesjaurnal einer Gmll.Jch.aft
Teutscher Gekhrten: "I explain the concept of substance transcendentally, not through its
pn-manmce, but rather through the ~tic unification of all it.s accideni.J" (SW, VIII: 320).
"' Reading, with H, "das vereinigende Denken" forK's "das vereinigte, Denken" ("what
is unified, the act of thinking"),
52
Reading, with H, 'Jedes Ding ist, bezogen auf die mogliche Wirksamkeit nichts anders
als Wiederherstellung des QUANTUMS von Wirksamkeit" for K's 'Jedes Ding ist bezogen
auf unsre mogliche Wiirksamkeit und auf nichts anderes als die Wiederherstellung des
QuANTUM dieser Wiirksamkeit" ("every thing is related to our possible efficacy and to
nothing else than the reestablishment of the quantum of the same"), The emended ver-
sion, however, retains K's reference to "our own possible efficacy."
''Following the notation introduced in § 17, as well as the text of H, "g" has here been
substituted forK's "c."
54
Reading, with R.adrizzani, "[dadurch] dajr' for K's "dajJ."
§ ,s 445
physical efficacy.} Conversely, I cannot observe a thing without also ob-
serving myself.
§ 18
Since the I, when engaged in the act of intuiting its own act of pure
thinking, is at the same time determinate, this same pure act of thinking
(that is to say, the I as a product of this act of thinking, the I as a free
u6 being) necessarily becomes something determinate for the I. But a free
being, as such, can be determined only by the task of freely determining
itself. When the I thinks of this, it proceeds from a general sphere of
freedom as such (as what is determinable) to itself (as what is determi-
nate within this sphere) and thereby posits itself as an individual, in op-
position to a {realm ot} reason and freedom outside of itself.
In this determinate act of thinking, the I is at the same time free, and
it thinks of what is determinate only insofar as it does so with freedom;
consequently, it also confers freedom upon what is determinate. But
freedom within mere determinacy (as in nature) is independent being. 5 5
In this manner, a being that is independent of the I is attributed to the
Not-I, which first becomes a thing thereby. Insofar as the Not-I possesses
this type of being, it is what endures and is determinable throughout all
the different determinations it receives through the freedom of the I.
The act of thinking of the I as a free but limited being and that of
thinking of the Not-I as a self-subsisting thin~ mutually condition each
other. The I intuits its own freedom only in the objects of its acting, and
it intuits these objects only insofar as it freely acts upon them.
SS "1ST SEYN DURCH SICH SELBST." More literally: "being [generated] through itself."
56
"ALS FUR SICH BESTEHENDEN DtNGJ!.S."
226 § 19
elements on either end must also be determined by the other. Otherwise our synthesis, and
along with it, our consciousness as a whole, would resemble a series or a framework. But
this is not what it is; consciousness is not a series; it is a circle (p. 247).
§ 19 447
rectly to a consideration of this [mutual] determination; instead, we
must commence our investigation at a {somewhat} deeper level. This is
why we 1 return within the primary synthesis to a consideration of the I
presented in the previous §, {which is the central point} to which all the
various elements of this investigation are to be connected.
(2) The task, therefore, is to describe the act of positing this determi-
nacy, or the act of thinking which is involved in positing oneself as an
individual-which is perception and which refers to a perception out-
side of us. To be sure, it is only as a cause that we insert ourselves within
the sensible world through an act of thinking, and, in this respect, other
free beings are also {only thought of, only} noumena. To be sure, we
think of ourselves in this way only to the extent that we portray our own
determinacy 7 as something subjective and ideal; it is necessary, however,
that this act of determining should also possess an aspect of objective
'"die Vernunft."
6
Reading, with H, "Verniinftigkeit" for K's "Vernunft" ("reason").
c Therefore, there must first be a perception that is connected with the act of pure
thinking, and this has to be deduced (p. 248).
7
Reading, with H, "Bestimmtheit" for K's "Bestimmen" ("act of determining").
§ 19 449
determinacy, 8 and this is what constitutes perception. From this it fol-
lows that I am an individual within a realm of rationality; {consequently, (249)
the awareness 9 of myself as something determinate is connected with an
awareness of something determinable,} and my own act of thinking is
connected with this realm of rationality. Therefore, an awareness of ob-
jects is also connected with an awareness of other free beings. 10 {We have
to describe the act of positing this determinacy and the act of thinking
that is involved in such positing.} In our presentation of this we will not
follow the customary synthetic method, for the synthesis is already con-
tained therein. {Here too, as has often happened in other places, we will
forego a systematic presentation in the interest of clarity.}
A. {According to what wa.s said 'above,} I do not appear to myself as, so
to speak, an "I as such" or "in general," in opposition to {the whole of}
nature; instead, I appear to myself as a {particular I, as a particular} in-
dividual, in opposition to a rational {and free} world outside of myself.
This {-that is, as a particular 1-} is the only way 11 I am able to discover
myself; i.e., I discover my own being-not the being of a thing, but only
the determinacy of the possibilities of acting morally. {This determinacy
:29 appears} to be something that is present independently of {and prior to}
my act of thinking, and not something produced thereby. As always,
such an act of thinking appears to be no more than an act of copying.
Unlike the sort of thinking that is involved in thinking of a concept of a
goal, this act of thinking does not appear to be determined by itself or to
provide a model for some product within the sensible world.
I simply am what I am {and have not made myself who I am. I am an
individual} without any effort on my part. This is how it appears to me
and how it must appear to me. This is the determinacy we are now dis-
cussing. {It can only be thought of; it is not an object of an intuition. We
claimed, however, that this determinacy is not supposed to be produced
by thinking; instead,} this is a determinacy that is supposed to exist in
itself, as it is. As such, it is supposed to be sheer necessity of thought;
{[but] this determinacy is not supposed to be a mere product of thinking
as such}. 12
Remnrk: As in every act of real thinking, I myself am limited and con-
strained when I think of myself in this way, but only so long as I confine
8
"da~ dieses auch objective Ansicht der Bestimmtheit habe."
9
"Ansicht."
10
"eine Ansicht der Objecte (hiingt) mit der Ansicht der ahderen freien Wesen (zusam-
men)." I.e., we cannot "look at" or consider others as free and rational subjects without at
the same time considering them to be "objects"; they possess an objective as well as a sub-
jective "aspect."
11
Reading, with H, "nur" for K's "nun" ("now").
12
K: "es soli blofk Denknothwendigkeit sein, als eine solche." H: "Sie soli nicht eine
blofks Denkwerk als solches seyn." A simpler way of reconciling these two passages (and
the one adopted by Radrizzani) would be to emend the text of K to read as follows: "it is
{not} supposed to be a mere necessity of thought as such."
myself to my own self and to my own nature. So long as this remains
true, I do not proceed beyond the boundary in question. {(The original
will is [in this case] the sole object of reflection.)} The limitation in ques-
tion, however, is a limitation of freedom; therefore, by employing the
very freedom that is here misemployed, I can go beyond this boundary.
{(For further discussion of this point, see the [System ofl Ethical
Theory.) 1!l} We know that there are two different types of limitation: {1}
there is the limitation that is present when, e.g., someone chains me
hand and foot, {and one is limited in the use of the parts of one's body};
and {2} there is the sort of limitation that is present when, {e.g.,} some-
one addresses me {and I feel obliged not to use my own organ of speech}.
The former is a limitation of my physical power; the latter is a limitation
of my moral power. {This is expressed in the [System ofj Ethical Tlu!ory as (250
follows: I-t a physical limitation is a limitation of my power to do some-
thing else; a moral limitation is a limitation of my power to be permitted
to do something else. Here we are talking about moral limitation.} It is
inhumane to interrupt someone with whom one wants to have a con-
versation, but it is not physically impossible to do so. It is the latter sort
of determinacy, viz., a moral determinacy, which concerns us here.
B. To be sure, an I can discover itself only insofar as it discovers itself
to be an I as such, possessing the character of the same, which is simply
freedom. In other words, an I can discover itself only insofar as it dis-
covers that it ought to act and is able to do so. Let us apply here the
distinction introduced above: To say "I am limited" does not mean that
I am of such and such a breadth and such and such a height; on the
contrary, it means that I am limited in my ability and obligation to act,
{not in my being. To say that I discover myself to be limited can mean
only that l discover myself to be an I, with the character of the same.} We
must provide an explication of each of the distinctive features 15 here as-
cribed to the character of the I: {that I discover myself to be [1] able to
act and [2] obliged to act}.
• To begin with, I discover that I am able to act. Considered purely as
an acting subject, I have produced myself through the wiH; but I am not
given to myself as an acting subject. I can discover myself, however, as a
subject that ought to act.n What is the character of the act of thinking of
acting? What kind of thinking is this? Acting is {already} a process of
flowing forth; therefore, this act of thinking of acting is {already} an act
of thinking which has been made sensible. The mere act of constructing
13
See especially§§ 7 and 8 of Das S:JSI.em der Siamkhre (SW, IV: 93-1211).
14
See SW, IV: 230.
15
"Merlunale."
0
I discover that I am able to act; but that I really do act is not something I discover, for
I am not given to myself in this way. Insofar as I really do act, I do not discover myself; I
produce myself. One should take careful note of this: My acting first follows from a de-
terminate concept of a goaL I can discover myself only as obliged to act (p. 250).
§ 19 45 1
a concept of a goal, however, does not appear to me to be an instance of
acting at all; instead, it appears to be a mere act of thinking. {And the
product of my efficacy does not appear to be anything that pertains to
me; instead, it appears} to be something outside of me, a thing. How are
these [i.e., my concept of a goal and my efficacious act of actually real-
izing the same] connected with each other? They are connected through
the intuition of my own acting; furthermore, according to what was said
above, this {acting} must specifically occur {within} intuition, 16 because
only in this way can any goal be accomplished.E
• Thus I discover my own acting as something given to me, as a pos-
sible acting. Suppose that a person had not yet done anything at all (an
absurd supposition, which will be posited only for a moment): yet if he
should ever do something, it would therefore be postulated that he
would already possess a concept of acting. For him, this concept (which
he cannot have obtained from experience) would have to be an a priori
one. So too in the present case: I discover myself to be a subject who is
obliged to act, {an act of discovery} which already includes within itself
{my own} acting. This {obligation for me to act} is quite clearly some-
thing that has been made sensible and has been constructed by combin-
ing the concept of a goal (which is not an instance of acting) with the act
of {actually} realizing this goal (which is not something that is discov-
ered). Consequently, this is something that {is assembled from both and}
is, so to speak, suspended in the middle 17 between the concept of a goal
and the act of realizing the same. What then do I intuit [when I intuit
this obligation to act]? What I intuit in this case is something that has
been made sensible by the imagination. Acting contains no enduring
form, neither of the subject nor of the object. {Neither the I nor what it
acts upon is at any moment the same [as it was at the previous moment].
If they are to remain the same, then one must cease to act.} The act of
thinking of actingF is entirely sensible, [and thus has a determinate, en-
during form,] and such an aspect [of our own acting] is inseparable from
synthesis {A}, by means of which consciousness comes into being.
{I discover myself to be determinate. This is what comes first.} In ad-
dition and in relation to {this} determinate acting, I must now posit
something determinable, {from which this determinacy is selected}; and
since what is determinate in this case is something sensible, what is de-
terminable must be sensible as well. As we have already seen, what is
16 "Durch die Anschauung meines Handelns, die ins besondere auch drum nach dem
obigen Stattfinden mufl." Without emendation in the light of H, this passage would read:
"They are connected through the intuition of my own acting, which, according to what
was said above, must specifically occur."
E ( ... 1 because only through such an intuition can any acting arise (p. 250).
17
"in der Mitte schwebend."
F Acting [ ... 1 (p. 250).
452 § 1 9
(3) It is obvious that the summons described above 211 must be explained
within actual consciousness. This summons can be explained only by re-
ferring to a free acting outside of me. (To what is determinate, I attach
something determinable, as well as a determining subject. As follows
from the laws of thinking, this is only a single phenomenon. So too in
the present case: I connect something else with this summons; this is
what it means to "explain" it.)" There is a connection between the the
proofs of these two assertions [(1) that the summons is something de-
terminate, to which I connect something determinable and a determin-
ing subject; and (2) that what is determinable and determining is a free
being outside of me]. Considered by itself, {as something that has been
made sensible,} this summons is something determinate, even though
what is given to me {thereby} is related to my own acting as something
determinable. In the case of a question, for example, this question is, in
relation to my answer, something determinable; yet, considered in itself,
this same question is also something determinate, inasmuch as it asks
just this and nothing else. 1 Accordingly, the summons occupies a middle
ground and can be construed both as determinate and as determinable.
{In relation to an instance of acting, the summons is something deter-
minable; considered by itself, however, it is also something determinate.}
Thus, it is something relative, {which can be located, on the one hand,
within what is determinable and, on the other, within what is
22
"als ein aufgefordert seyn sich zu beschranken."
"'Reading, with H, "oben" forK's "<ganz>" ("completely").
"This summons must be explained within actual consciousness; within actual conscious-
ness, however, I act in accordance with the law that states that there can be nothing de-
terminate without something determinable. So too in the present case: In accordance with
the laws of consciousness, I connect this summons with something that allows me to ex-
plain it by assuming a free acting (p. 252).
1 My question is, in relationship to the person I am questioning, something determin-
able; for I could have asked many questions other than the one I asked, questions that this
other person could have answered. Insofar as I ask precisely this question, however, my
question is determinate. The same is also true of the answer (p. 25~).
454 § 19
K I am the person who is immediately a noumenon for himself and then acts in a man-
ner that becomes sensible. You are the person who does not immediately present himself
to me as a noumenon; instead, you reveal yourself to me only in an appearance, from
which I first infer the existence of a noumenon. It is only by means of an inference that I
come to think of you (p. 253).
L The necessity of think.ing in this way lies in the movement of transition from deter-
minability to determinacy (p. 253).
M Through the summons, I am given a series of elements through which the goal is pos-
ited-a series to which I am supposed to add the still-missing I. This is how the acting of
a free being outside of me is always related to the acting ascribed to me (p. 253).
N An infinite manifold of acting is contained herein. How can this be thought of? It can
be thought of only by means of the imagination, which combines things that are infinitely
diverse and opposed to one another (p. 253).
26
"die ganze Vernunft hat nur ein einziges Handeln."'
infinitely many individuals work toward the overall goal of reason,
which is a product of the efficacious action of everyone. This is not a
chain of physical necessity, for we a~e here dealing with rational beings,
{[and] when rational beings act, they act freely. For this reason, the (2
movement of transition} [from one link of] this chain [to another] always
2 33 occurs in leaps; each leap is always conditioned by the previous one, but
is not determined and actually produced thereby. {Nevertheless, even
though one link is not determined by another, the chain still hangs to-
gether, because all the links are combined by the imagination. For fur-
ther discussion of this} see the [S)Iltem of] Ethical Theory, 27 {which states
the following: In the series of natural mechanism, everything that can
follow from any element in this series does so. This, however, is not the
case in a series consisting of the acting of rational beings-nor can this
be the case, for if it were, then this would not be a series determined by
freedom.} Freedom consists in this: of ail that is possible, only a portion
of the same is attached to the chain. 0
(4) Let us now return to the point from which we began, in order to ex-
pand the synthesis and determine it in more detail. As a perception (and
not something in itself), the summons directed to me was, like every im- 1
pression {(i.e., like every act of self-affection-though one should not in-
terpret this in a dogmatic manner)}, a limitation of my physical acting
and thus of my physical force. Just as, {according to the above,} all being
1
is {a negation; so here too: the summons to free activity is also a nega-
tion, namely.} a cancellation of my acting. {My free activity is not simply
canceled, however; it is canceled only insofar as I limit myself.} Because
this [involves something that] occurs outside of me, I am unable to do
t
it-not that I am unable to do it at all, but rather I am unable to do it
·'
purely on my own-though, to be sure, I could do it if I wanted to break
through the boundary [represented by this limitation to the I]. This ·'
··1·
•.·.·
" Reading, with H, "das Bestimmbare fur die Freyheit" for K's "das bestimmbare zur
Freiheit" ("what is determinable in relation to freedom").
sIn this way the lxxly becomes something discovered, a real object; hence the lxxly is
already there when the subject discovers it (p. 257).
6
' I.e., the "creative power of nature," in contrast to "created nature." See the scholia to
Proposition XXIX of Part One of Baruch de Spinoza's Ethica, Ordine Geometrico Demonstrala
(1677), trans. Edwin Curley, in The Collected Works of Spinoza (Princeton: Princeton Uni-
versity Press, •gBs). p. 434: "Before I proceed further, I wish to explain here-or rather
to advise [the reader}-what we must understand by Natura naturans and Natura natura/a.
For from the preceding I think it is already established that by Natura naturans we must
understand what is in itself and is conceived through itself, or such attributes of substance
as express an eternal and infinite essence, i.e. (by P14C1 and P17C2), God, insofar as he
is considered as a free cause.
"But by Natura natura/a I understand whatever follows from the necessity of God's na-
ture, or from any of God's attributes, i.e., all the modes of God's attributes insofar as they
are considered as things which are in God, and can neither be nor be conceived without
God."
" "hei~t sie so." This might also be construed to read "nature can be called natura na-
turans [ ... ]."
8
' Reading, with H, "sind noch Leiber anderer verniinftiger Wesen" for K's "ist der
meinige ja auch da" ("my lxxly is also present").
by itself. The proof [that the articulated body of a rational being is a
product of nature] is based upon this last point, {which is very important (258)
and upon which much depends}. (The existence of something within na-
ture has to be demonstrated by starting with the articulation [of the
body].) The body {of a rational being outside of me} is that portion of
the corporeal world which is set in motion by the sheer will of a rational
being. This body possesses a definite spatial boundary, however, beyond
which the sheer will can accomplish nothing, for the rational being in
question is {limited and must have its limits, inasmuch as it is} supposed
to be a finite being. This rational being now discovers this body, {as lim-
ited in a determinate fashion,} and this determinate limitation belongs
to this rational being, and specifically, to his body. This limitation is
present quite independently of his will {and his freedom}. His body is a
limited part of the sensible world, and its limitation must therefore also
be present to him independently of his will. Consequently, his body's
boundary is also nature and is posited by nature. In other words, this
body is a product of nature. I.e., nature produces itself, in conformity
with mechanical laws (for freedom, which operates through the will and
by means of concepts, is not to be thought of in this context, {since na-
ture contains no freedom of the will, no selfhood}); hence it produces
real wholes, 39 such as are wholes in themselves, and this happens
through a necessary act of thinking and not simply, as it were, by means
of our freedom of thinking. ({This whole produced by nature is posited
in opposition to the kind of whole assembled by means of abstraction.}
Through the freedom of abstraction, I am able to divide everything, but
in this way I obtain only an imaginary whole-as is the case with all ab-
stract concepts.) Real wholes are those I must necessarily assemble in a
certain, particular way. We have now arrived at the familiar concept of
"organization,"40 {which follows from [the concept of] articulation}. Our
deduction [of the concept of organization] descends from something
higher: We began with what is highest [in the] ideal [series], with the
task of limiting ourselves. We have made this concept sensible in the
phenomenon of a summons, which also lies within us. In addition to
what is determinate (the summons) and in accordance with the law of
substantiality, we have also posited a determinable subject who sum-
mons us, and we have transformed the latter into a perception, into a
body in the sensible world, through which perception a free action is
supposed to become possible. [Furthermore,] the body in question must
be an articulated body. Organization follows from articulation and is
connected with what has gone before; for since this body is something
merely discovered, i.e., is [part of] nature, the articulation [of the same]
cannot be anything but the product of a purely natural law. We have
39 "reelle Ganze."
40
"der Begriff der Organisation."
thus obtained a nature that forms real wholes-in this case, the real
whole of an articulated body-and possesses an organized structure:'. T
Overview: We began this § as follows: The extreme terms of our syn-
thesis ({on the side of the ideal series,} the realm of rational being and,
on the other side, {in the real series, a dead, self-subsisting,} fixed [realm
of] nature) must, in turn, reciprocally determine each other. Since both
237 are present within a single consciousness, the realm of rational beings
must be viewed and determined through the medium of the realm of
nature, and vice versa. {Insofar as the realm of rational being is viewed
through the medium of nature,} the result is that a rational being (to the
extent that it is something sensible) appears to be a part of nature, a
product of the same, as well as an object.
On the other hand, has nature in turn perhaps been {further} deter-
mined by our operation? Yes indeed, for whereas nature previously ap-
peared to us merely as a single whole, as a Not-I, we have now discovered
that we intuit particular objects in nature. Nature now appears to us as
a system made up of individual, real wholes, and it appears to us in this
way because we had to assume the existence {outside of us} of rational,
sensuous beings like ourselves.
(7) Much more follows from this. Something else, something quite dif-
ferent, is also realized in nature. {We have determined nature even fur- (259)'
ther by means of this operation,} as follows: All the parts out of which
we have assembled this body {of a rational being} belong together and
constitute a single whole only in their combination. This wholeness
{which arises from the combination of the parts} is purely the result of
the efficacy of nature; it is nature that has made these {articulated}
parts, {which could be posited in a relationship [to one another],} into a
single whole. What does this mean? The body of a rational being exter-
nal to us must necessarily be infinitely divisible, as is obvious from the
very concept of matter. All these parts are parts of nature, and therefore
each is posited through itself and contains within itself the ground of its
own subsistence. Yet, {according to what was presupposed above,} they
all constitute a single whole only in their interconnection with one an-
other, and apart from this connection they are nothing at all (as is in-
dicated by the concept of articulation). It is because of nature itself that
these various parts exist alongside one another and become something
only through their interconnection with one another. This is not a situ-
41 "wir erhielten eine Natur, welche reelle Ganze, hier die reelle Ganzen eines artiku-
(8) Thus our task would appear to be accomplished,for the two deter-
minable elements at either end of our synthesis have been shown to be
determined through each other. The individual within the world of rea-
son v becomes a part of the sensible world; consequently, he is posited
within the sensible world and becomes, in a certain respect, one there-
with. Conversely, the sensible world receives an analogon 44 of freedom;
i.e., the concept of generating or creating appears within the sensible
world-though this is {not actual freedom, since this is} a type of creat-
ing which occurs in accordance with certain, fixed rules.
• Nota Bene how we have obtained this result: {We did not begin with
the two extreme terms of the synthesis.} We began simply at one end
{of the synthesis}, with the ideal series, {i.e., with the mass of reason};
and then, without noticing it, we proceeded from there, {from a deter-
mination of reason outside of us,} to the other, {real} series, to a deter-
mination of the sensible world. In keeping with our analogy, we would
have thought that we would have had to begin with each element
u That these parts form a whole only in their union is not something that could perhaps
occur artificially; instead, this occurs through nature, since each part must be considered
as posited through itself, and since all of them can subsist only in their interconnection
with one another (p. 259).
42
"Dieses Geseztsein der Natur, dieses Gesez der Natur." H: "Dieses Gesetz der Natur."
45
"ist also organisirend."
v The individual within the world of union [ ... ] (p. 259).
44
"analogue."
individually (i.e., with {g andy, and with} j3 and b, and that we would (260)
have been able to discover an intermediate element = X, in which all
these elements coincided, only after we had examined each of them in-
dividually. It was not necessary for us to proceed in this fashion, [how-
ever,] for the law in accordance with which we are thinking here is that
of reciprocal interaction, 45 which already contains within itself a concat-
enation of the efficaciously acting elements, so that one can set out from
either side and arrive at the other-so long, that is, as one grasps the
former in the proper way. We would not have been able to advance and
to achieve our goal, however, if we had set out from the other side, {from
the sensible world}. We were able to achieve our goal {by starting from
the point we selected} only because freedom and spontaneous activity
are what is primary and highest, and if we begin with them it is then easy
to show how they are made sensible in the sensible world. w What we
have established {here} is a reciprocal interaction.
• {1} To begin with, the world of reason interacts with itself.
{Popularly expressed,} rational beings exercise an influence upon one
another; or, transcendentally expressed, there is within every individual
something that requires him to infer that other rational beings exist in
addition to himself.
• {2} Similarly, the sensible world also interacts with itself, for the law
of organization we have established is nothing more than the combined
239 operation of all the natural forces in the universe.x
• {3} Both the rational world and the sensible world interact with
themselves; in addition, they reciprocally interact with each other, and
they also appear {to us} to do so. First of all, nature and freedom mesh
with each other within articulated bodies. This occurs by means of the
freedom of the individual, and this is how freedom as a whole operates
within the whole of nature.v Conversely, articulated bodies are first
produced by nature; therefore, as judged from the usual viewpoint,
nature produces the very possibility of reason and {consequently} in-
trudes into the realm of rational being, {into the realm of what cannot
be perceived}.
45
Reading, with H, "wei! hier nach den Gesetzen der Wechselwirkung gedacht wird" for
K's "da das hier gedachte Gesez das der Wechselwirkung ist" ("for the law thought of here
is that of reciprocal interaction").
w We could indeed reach our goal, however, by starting with the point we selected, be-
cause this is what is first and highest, and because the determination of the sensible world
can be derived from my own freedom (p. 200).
x Nature interacts with itself, by virtue of the law of organization, according to which the
universe cannot subsist except insofar as all its parts are combined with one another
(p. 200).
v These two worlds interact with each other in an articulated body. Here nature and
freedom mesh with each other; freedom as a whole exercises an influence upon the to-
tality of nature, and conversely, nature as a whole exercises an influence upon freedom in
its entirety (p. 200).
• With this, our synthesis is complete, and, since {this is the funda-
mental synthesis of all consciousness, and since} everything that occurs
within consciousness is contained within this synthesis, our task is fully
accomplished and our work is finished.
§ 19
(1) We have now set forth everything that we disc(JIJer {within (262)
consciousness} as a given object when we discover ourselves, i.e., every-
thing that is connected with the objective aspect of ourselves. This dis-
covered object is our world. A camplete explication of this world-and
{by "complete" we mean} a description of how {what is discovered} is
determined by means of all the laws of thinking-constitutes the
{specifically 1} theoretical Wissenschaftslehre, or the Wissenschaftslehre of cog-
nition (in the Kantian sense).A It always depends upon what is discov-
ered. This Wissenschaftslehre of cognition must also be contained within
our "Foundations,"2 and it is {actually} to be found there, {though only}
with respect to its basic features.
A particular science [i.e., a particular subdivision of the Wissen-
schaftslehre] {is distinguished from the entire science only as follows: a
1 "besonderer." The ''theoretical Wisseruchaftslehre" is thus, like the theory of right, the
theory of ethics, or indeed, the presentation of the first principles or "foundations" of the
whole system, a particul4r part of the entire Wisseruchaftslehre. As such, it constitutes one of
the sulxlivisions of the entire system or "science" in question and is thus one of what
Fichte, in the discussion that follows, calls the "particular sciences."
A Wherever objective cognition is present, theory is present as well, and, considered
from a transcendental point of view, so too is the theoretical Wisseruchaftslehre (p. 262).
2 "unserer Grundlage." Though this term is singular, it is here translated as plural (and
capitalized) in order to indicate that what Fichte is referring to on this occasion is not just
any "foundation," but rather the systematic presentation of the first principles or "foun-
dations'' of the entire Wisseruchaftslehre. In this sense, the "Foundations" is the first part of
the system whose divisions Fichte now proceeds to sketch. One should recall that the full
title of the published WisserucMftslehre of 1794"95 was Grondlage tin gesammten Wissen-
schaftslehre ("Foundations of the Entire Wisseruchaftslehre") and that the official title of the
present lecture course was fundamenta philosophiae lmnssendentalis (die Wisseruchaftslehre)
nova methodo ("Foundations of transcendental philosophy (WisserucMftslehre) nova methodo").
Though it is possible (as the editors of AA IV, 2 assume) that Fichte is here employing the
term "Foundations" with specific reference to the Grondlage of 17!)4/95• it is more plau-
sible to assume that this is a more general reference to the "first" or "foundational" part
of his entire system, and specifically, to its most recent version, as presented in these very
lectures on Wisseruchaftslehre nova methodo.
468 Deduction of the Subdivisions of the Wissenschaftslehre
(3) Ethics does not deal with any particular individual; instead, it deals
with reason as such or in general. Reason, however, is exhibited in many
individuals, who{se forces can} come into conflict with, {have an impact
on, and limit} one another within the same world. {Thus,} if the goal of
reason is to be achieved through {the unification of the individual goals
of} these individuals, then their physical force must be restrained {and
limited}, and everyone's freedom must be restricted {so that they will not
hinder one another and} so that one person will not interfere with the
goal of another and {thereby} thwart {the overall goal of reason}. The
theory of right or naturallaw 11 is what arises {from an inquiry into how
this can be accomplished}. The nature of this science has been misun-
derstood for a very long time. It occupies the middle ground between
theoretical and practical philosophy; it is theoretical and practical phi-
losophy at the same time.
• {It is theoretical, because it speaks of a world-namely, of the world
as it ought to be found. If the goal of reason is to be achieved in a moral
world, then a juridical world, thanks to which the struggle between ef-
ficaciously acting forces is restrained and limited, must already exist.}
The juridical world must precede the moral world.
Furthermore, the theory of right is practical as well. {Unlike nature,}
a just constitution of this sort does not come into being by itself; it must
be produced. But unlike morality, this cannot be accomplished by means
(4) Following this division, there still remains one science with which ev-
eryone is familiar and which has always-and rightly-been considered
to be a part of philosophy, {and which we too consider to be a part of
philosophy}. (I do not mean logic, which applies to every science and
12 Zum ewigen Frieden. Ein philosophischer Entwurf (1795), KGS, VIII: 341-86. English
translation by Lewis White Beck in Kant, On Hislory (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1963),
PP· 85-135.
" Fichte is here employing the term postulnte in the sense of Kant's "postulates of prac-
tical reason." See Book II of the Critique of Practical Reason.
H Conversely, there is also a postulate that practical reason addresses to theory: that the
sensible world ought to accommodate itself to the goal of reason (p. 265).
14
"in the broadest sense of the term." Cp. H: "In the highest sense of the word."
472 Deduction of the Sulxlivisions of the Wissenschaftslehre
Fichte, Johann Gottlieb. "A us der Hallische Nachschrift der W.L: 1. Die unmit-
telbar fiir die Relgionsphilosophie wichtigen Stellen; 2. Fichtes Diktate." Ap-
pendix to Emanuel Hirsch, Die idealistische Philosophie und das Christentum.
Gesammelte Aufsiitze, pp. 291-307. Giitersloh: Bertelsmann, 1926.
"Ueberschrift und Schluj3 einer studentischen Nachschrift der WL aus dem
Jahre 1798 (Fichtes System der philosophischen Wissenschaften)." Appendix
to Emanuel Hirsch, Christentum und Geschichte in Fichtes Philosophie, pp. 62-67.
Tiibingen: Mohr, 1920.
"Wissenschaftslehre nach den Vorlesungen von Herr. Fichte." In Nachgelassene
Schriften, Vol. II: Schriften aus denjahren I79o--r8oo, pp. 341-611. Ed. Hans
Jacob. Berlin: Junker und Diinnhaupt, 1937.
"Wissenschaftslehre nach den Vorlesungen von Hr. Pr. Fichte. In Gesamtausgabe
der Bayerischen Akademie der Wi.ssenschaften. Reihe IV, Bd. 2, Kollegnachschriften
I796-r8o4, pp. 1-267. Ed. Jose Manzana, Erich Fuchs, Kurt Hiller, and Peter
Schneider. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann, 1978.
Wi.ssenschaftslehre nova methodo. Kollegnachschrift Chr. Fr. Krouse 1798/99- Ed. Erich
Fuchs. Hamburg: Meiner, 1982.
[ 475]
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INDEX
determinacy, 133, 135, 147, 155, 169, 176, Su also philosophy/philosopher, Critical;
236,289.347·361,407,429-30, Reinhold, Karl Leonhard
436-g8,444·449 empiricism/empirical world (Empire), 240,
determinate, what is, 122, 147-48, 16o, 380, 412, 41i8-69
165-66, 177, 179-80, 225, 238, enduring, what is, 2 10
250,274,284, 297-gg,goo-go2, energy. See force
gog-1o,g46-51, 357-58•379·4oo- ethical law, 287, 291, 305, gog, 338,
402, 410, 4•9-21, 436, 451-54· 439·469
400,465 Stt alto imperative, categorical; morality
determination/determining, act of, 118, ethics, theory of, 309. 469-7o, 472
134· 363,386-87, 39"'·400, 405, ellistence, 325, 334
424·432 actual, 104
of place, 72, 2!;0-52, 257, 272, 276 experience, go-g•, 100, 161, 210, 284,
absolute, 246, 2!;0, 256 34on,363,38•,ggo,442,468-6g
Su also space: determination or mea· deduction of, 162
surement of definition of, 85, 105, 161
divisibility, 156, 200, ground or foundation of, 90-91, 245,
dogmatismldogmatisl:!, 30, 91-93. 131, 26g,g26
133, 144, 164, 180, 226, 279, 330, possibility of, 223, 340, 469
338-39·340n,395·4•8,424 reality of, 104
Critical, 91 relationship of philosophy and the Wis·
vs.. idealism or criticism, 91-g6, g8, 105, senschafi.<lehTt to, go-g1, 100-107,
322, 330, 339 184, 252, 333
doing (instance of doing) (Tun), 191, e:xplanation, 279, 332, 423, 4!i3
philosophical, 258, 335, 339-41
237-39· 272-73·3'3·33 1·405, real, 36o
407,428
and being, identity of, 363, 424-25 e:xtension, 248,
con!lCiousness of, 327-28, 397 eye, ng-go, '43· 151-52, 256, gun,
determinate, 237. 239 340,385
inner, 345
intuition of, 236, 327-28 fatalism, 92-93, g8
feeling, 68-6g, 73· 176, 180-81, 188,
sensible, 393 lg2, 202, 2o6, 220-21, 226, 248,
drive, 69, 172-75, 181, 183, 288, 2g6
285, 294,go8,g12, 323,329-30,
categorical, toward acting, 295
300,388
consciousness of, 175 and acting, 285-86
for content (Sachtrit-/1), 186, 191 a5 affection, 265
as what is highest or primary, 181 categorical, 2g6
of the intellect, •gm and comprehending, 189
multiplicity of, 178 of constraint, 93
natural, 178 of freedom, 93-94, 203
toward real activity, 191 of the I, 190, 2011, 294
toward reflection, 191 fundamental law of, 287
toward representation, 191n and ideal activity, 187-88,
dualism, 164 immediate, 171,202
duration, temporal. See time of intellectual compulsion, 213, 217-18,
"Dutch !lCholar," 43-44, 47, 304, 30411 220, ""4-26,gs 5 .428
duty, 102, 437, 439, 469 intelligible, 264
consciousness of, 293 and intuition, 69, 180-81, 187, tg•-97·
202-3, 216, u6. 228-go, K52-55
efficacy (Wirk.amkeil), 275, 327-28, 458 of limitation, 202, 230, 294
of the I, 16o, 290, 300, 386-87, ggo, and objecl:!, 18g-go
412,442-43· 448,455.459 of oneself (sdf·feeling), 193-94, 209,
inner, 264 213, 224, 253 Su also I: feeling of
real. 72, 276, 3o6-7 original, 1187, 322
of willing, 72, 270, 275 of ought, 294-96, 307-8
See als& causality; force of pleasure and pain, 178, 179n
Elementary Philosophy, 2, 11-13 power or faculty of, 72, 266, 313
feeling (continued) "Vergleichung des von Henn Prof.
of prohibition, 294 Schmid aufgestellten Systems mit
of pure willing, 295 der Wissenschaftslehre" ("A Com-
and reflection, 176, 329-30 parison between Prof. Schmid's Sys-
of striving, 202, 294 tem and the Wi.unuchaftshhre"), 911
system of, 69, 254 Vtrm.:h tiner neuen Dorsullung der Wi<-
as what is primary and original, 176- Jenstha{Wehrt (AUempt a1 a New Pre-
78, 220, 330 senJal.itm of IN Wi.uenscha{tskhrt ), In,
Sa also intuition/intuiting; manifold, 9• 18-19,25-2~J'J-J8
the; thinking/thought; willing, "Von der Sprachflihigkeit und dem Ur-
act of sprung der Sprache," 444
Feuerbach, Paul Johann Anselfm, 1o8n Wi.uenschaftshhrt nooo 'fTU!/JtodiJ, 13-27,
Fichte, Johann Gottlieb: JJ-49
in Berlin, 19, 26, J1 Halle Transcript, 11-12, J4-J9•
in Jena, J-4• 28, 4'7 4 1-49
in Zurich, 2, 4 Krause Transcript, 35-41
works: Wwnudwftshhre of 1800, 26-2'], JO
Anweisung zum s~ligen ult.m (Guide w IN "Zurich lectures," 4
Blessed Lifo), J2-JJ finitude, human, 93, 1 84, 273, 295, !P'·
Bardili Review, 20 337.430·440
Beridu Uhtr lim Bl!griff der Wi.ut!FI.1.Ciwfts· &e also being, rational
hhu,9 fivefoldness, 371, ·P7-28, 434
DU Be;sti:mmr.mg deJ Menschen (The Voca- Sn also synthesis; original, highest, or
titm of Man), 19, 26-29 primary
"Eigne Mediutionen uber Elementar- flow, flowing, •og. '~99· 355, 379• 397,
Philosophie," Jn 410, 414-15,428, 450 '
Der gesch/ossem Handelst.aal, 2 o, 2 6 force (enei"K)') (Krafl), 141, 183, 1148,
Grundlag~ der ge.sam.tm Wissnucha[Wehre 258.~~.~6g-72, 325· 401,405,
(F~ of 1M Enl.irt Wi.unt- 417,428
JCho.ftshhre), J-1), 1j, 16ft, I'J, concept of, 271-72
22.J'J, 8 5-86, 118, 134-38, 173, feeling of, 265
181-86, 240, •48, .'114· 371, free, 415
38 1.437 inner, 72, 265, 275, 355· 361-62, 405,
Grundlage deJ Naturreclu.s (Found4titms of 421
Natural. JUghi), 8, 10, 22, J7, 318, of the intellect, 265
343·352 natural, 270, 417, 466
Grultdriu des EignUil~ der Wiuen- ori gina!, 32 1
scJr.aftskhr~ (Oul/.ine of 1M Dittinctive outer, 72, 275
Cho.racln of 1M Wi.unucho.ft.lehr$), physical, 76, ~7o-72, 274-71), 408,
6-'J, 17, ••· J'J, 85-86, :r34. •45- 4.57-.59·465.470
4s, 28 3 pure, 72, 265, 26g, 275
¥Logic and Metaphysics" (Planter lec- self-active, 4311
tures), .ogn, 4]. 432, 433-34n, self-determining. 414, 4~8-29
4JJ-J411 sensible or sensuous, 26g-7 1, 327, 38g-
Stm.nenA:Iarn Beric4t (Sun-Ckar ~). 90·392,418,424
2()-21, 2<f, 26 form, systematic, 1 o
Das S,su.n der Sittmkhr$ (S~ of EthiaJl See also intuition/intuiting: form of
Theory), 8, IO, 29, J7, 4•-4]. 49· freedom. 67-68,70, 79, 132, 144-50,
309·337-38·4"5·436·450·45"· 156-57, • 59-oo. 169, 218-1 9 ,
456,473 227.~38,241· 244-47· :~86-87.
U$ber dm B$griff der Wi.unucJr.aftskhre :r88,352,423·431·434-36.438-
(Cmu:moing IN Canapt of IN Wissen- 39·44'~·445·447·450·454·456.
scJr.aftskhrt), 4• j, 18, ;;8n 461,464
"Ueber den Grund unseres Glaubens an absolute, 68, 137, 140, 142-43, 145,
eine g()ttliche Weltregierung'' ("On 147-48, 150, 157n, a66, 244, 288,
the Foundation of our Belief in a 315-16
Divine Government of the of acting, 26.5
Universe'"), 2J analagrm (analogue) of, 403
Index
freedom (conlinued) goal, concept of, .17n, 68, 148, 150, 152,
as the basis of consciousness, 68, 139. •ss. •s6. 161, •67-69, •75· 18o,
142-45· 147· 151, 2'<10, 288,366 187-89. 198, 204, 223, 283-85.
con~ousnesso~g2, 95· g8, 361- gog, 318, 338, 341-411,346-47,
62,436 ss•-53.s68-fi9,372-79·384-85,
and constraint, 219-20, 222. Su ai.Jo 387-93·395-97·400·409-10,412-
constraint/constrained condition; 13, 418, 422, 428-llg, 440-4f,
limit/limitation/limited condition 450-51, 454
determinacy of, 435-36 See o.i.Jo will; willing, act of
feeling of, 69, 93 God, 28, JO, 81, 102, 165, 173• 174n,
first act of, 234 1130-32, 295·418-t9,433-34n,
formal, 167-68 46o
general sphere or realm of, 75• 156, existence of, 79, 231, 436
445• 447• 453-5!). 465. See al.Jo be- ground, foundation, basis (Grund), 88-go,
ing: rational; individualfindividual- 104, 114, 149· 423
ity; rea$<)11; realm of category of, 387
of ideal activity, 71, 218, 227, 429 principle of, 387
as immediate object of consciousness, real, 356, 390
182
as independent being, 75 Hemen, Paulus van, 41· 304
ofthe intellect, 2510 holiness, 295
intuition of, 75· 141, '59 Hommel, Karl Ferdinand, g8
limitation of, 338 Hulsen, August Ludwig, 262
material (practical, real), 168 Hume, David, 79
and nature, 464
object of, 178 I·
of others outside me, 27-29, 75, 303, aboolute, 434
445• 448-49· Su o.i.Jo being: ratio- absolute freedom of, 315
nal; l; individualfindividuality actual, 152
possibility of, 2o5n appearance of, 168,
as the power to begin a series, 288-8g, character or essence of, 96-97, 112,
2g6, 423 142n, 148. 150-51, 153· 172, •go.
as the principle, starting point, and 217,261,300,311,358.365.380-
standpoint of philosophy. 143-44. 81,391, 403·425·447·450, 458
220, 4~ as concept and intuition, 129-30
of reflection, 191, u6-27. Su als<J re- concept of, 65, 6g, 97• 99. 110, 112,
fl.,ction; thinking/thought 114-15, 119, 124. 129, 132-34.
of thinking, 265 l!U, 261, 4ll2, 424
Su alrc act/action/acting; activity; corporeal, 458
consciousness; I; task of self determinable, 333-34, 337
limitation determinacy or determinate state of,
176-78.291.310-11,333-34·337·
genetic account or presentation, 92, 106, 383. 402, 431· 448
36o,gBg determinate determinability of, 452
genetic demonstration, 381 dual aspect of, 151-52, 196, 333,
genetic description, s87 335·339.341.361-62,365,4'6,
genetic explanation, 100 425. 447
genetic origination, 437 empirical, 315
genetic procedure or method, 77 existence for itself of, llfl4, 358. s6f,
genetic understanding, 2 1g, or Jrl, 242, 4 24·433-34n
366,g8o,g87 feeling of, 192-93. 195, 198,
genius, philosophical, 1•7 201-2,209
given, the (what is discovered), 109, 127- ideal, 185, 202, 253, 333n, 396
119, 132, 156-57· •fis, 171, •94-95, identity of, 68, 434n
200,2 34 , • 38, • 4 o,2 4 2, 244 , 27 o, as identity of doing and being, 363
2g8, ,300. 320, .!J4on, 347· 352-5311, as identity or union of whaL is ideal and
379·387.397·40J,424·427,435- what is real, 363, gg6
37·442-43·450-51,466-68,473 independence of, 181
I (continued) of inner sense (of time), 370
individual, 502, 307, 310, .!115· 537,351, non-Critical or "groundless," 99·
355• 570, 437. 46g. See also being; 100, 164
rational, realm of; individual/ of outer sense (of space), 370
individuality pure, 422
infinite, 183 scientific, g8-gg
intelligible, 290, starting point of, 105
intuition of, 65-66, 164, 18o, 209 task of, g8, too
limited state of, 183-84, '99• 202, 204- transcendent, 184
5, 2111, 214, 216, 220, 2ll2, 225, 294 tr.uucendental, r, 299,332-33·339•
and Not- I, 66-67, 95· Stt also Not-I 370,381,391n,4o2,404•4o8,
objective aspect of, 26g, 467 419,458
original, 201,236,285, .!II'• !P4 Stt also Kantianism; philosophy/philoso-
original determinancy of, 172, !JtlO-.!IOI, pher: Critical; Wissenst:hn{tslehu
30.!1·.!1•2-13·323-24 1-hood, 811:, 11'5· .!1.!13· .!145· 359· 370, 38o,
original limitation of, 223, 243, 313, 396. 41JI, 419,425, 437· 441
4.!14· 44'· 465 image (Bilii) and thing, 149, 152, 197.
as philosophical starting point, 109- 212, 268
11,424 imagination/power of imagination, 74-75,
practical, 152, •56, 16o-61, 18o, 184, 245· 26g,398-409·4•4-15·4•9·
198, 202, 253 421-22,428,432,455
pure, 104, 165,420, 437• 459 deduction of, 40 1
real, 185, 211-111, 333n, 376, 397 and intuition, 266
reality of, 152, 311, 314 and judgment, 403-4
self-positing of, 65, 95, 97-100, 105, productive, 18g, 299,399, 402,438, 440
tt2-t6, 118-2o, 123-24, '39· '5'• theory of, tSg, .!193-422
• 55 • 167, 183, •93· 204, 225, 4 •5 • reproductive, 1go
425. See also Art; activity: self- and thinking, 40 1-2, 4 15, 420-21
reverting; Kif-consciousness transcendental, 1 17
spiritual. 254, a61, go•. 424 Su t:lho oscillation or hovering; synthe-
as subject/object, 82, 1 11, 113-15, 1 o8, sis; thinking/thought
'44· •48. 151--52, 333· 370, 3¢· immortality, 79· 81, 1oa
419-20,430 imperative, categorical, 259, 293. 295.
substance of/substantial, 129, 131, 431, 437· 447
44 1. Stt o./Jo being: of the I Stt also ethical law
theoretical, 185, 1gB. Stt aLso intellecrf impulse. ~~ drive
intelligence inability, cognition of, 329, 339· 345
true, 292 indeterminacy, state of, 121-22, 133. 148
unity of. 280 individual/individuality, 72-73, 75• 105,
s~~ aLso activity; body; consciousness; 287.304·350-51·355·437·4.!19·
finiiUde; freedom; 1-hood: intellecrf 445·447·449·452-53·455-56.
intelligence; self-consciousness; 469"--70
self-determining, act of; spirit, or Stt also being: rational; freedom; l; rea-
mind; will son: realm of
Idea, 79· 125, 129, 144, 152, 164n, 165, induction, So, '~43
185, 200, 207, :n8, 231,300,310, infinitude, human, 93
329·4'3·435.44'·452 infinity, 183, 200, 398-99. 440
ideal, the, '5'· tgB, 200, 333• 392, 394- intellect/intelligence, 68, 92, 150--53• 190,
95· 4'5 195·337·390·4•8-19
consciousness of, 6g. 150 determinacy of, t6o-6tn, 247
and the real, • 70, .!159 finite, 145
~~ a/Jo activity; intuition/intuiting; freedom of, 150-51, 181, 297-98
thinking/thought passivity of, 92
idealislnlidealists, 78, 81, 91-96, gS-ooo, See also 1; thinking/thought
102-7, 121, '3!1> 144, 3'9· .!122, intelligible, what is, 274-75, 281-82, 309•
338·.!190 320, 330· .!1.!14· 34.!1· 345· 347· 3!)0.
Critical, 99• 103, 121, 164,277,285, 364·381,.!194
302, S.!IO intended, what is, 127-29, 132, 137
Index
passivity/passive state (I..eiden). 93• 98, plants, 205, goo, 302n, 468
363. 44 1 Planter, Ernst, 115, 421, 433n
perception, 271, 322, 362, 376, 449, positing, g6
452, 456 original, 84
immediate, 359 Ste also consciousness: 1: self-positing
>ensible, 327, 374• 452 of; self-determining, act of
period/periodum, synthetic, 371, 383- possibility, 161-63, 166
85,42/ postulate/postulates, 92, 95, 102, 1Qg-1o,
permitted, what is, 295 121, 12,5-26, 134-35· 138, 1/8.
phenomenon/phenomena, 261-62, 20!}. 208, 216-•7. 259· 297-98,
443·448 355· 451,471
Philosophistlus Journal einer Gesellschaft power (Polem), 349
Ti!'UlstMr Gekhrtm, 18, 20, 444 power, ability, or faculty (V""""gm), 126-
philosophy/philosopher; 27, 140, 405, 407-8, 4a1, 431-32
as a science, 78~79• 90 empirical, 349
concept and task of. JI-)2, n-'l9· 81, ideal, 69, 144, 1,52, 314
87-90, 100, 309· 318,332,419, inner, 340
430,469 necessary, 172n
Critical, 1o6, 358 outer, 340
Fichte's interpretation of, r-:z, l:l, practical, 140, 142, 147-53, 161, 168,
242,303·409 1/0. 183, 21!}, 22:0, "57-58
relationship to the Wissenschaft.slehre, pure, of the intellect, 270
8, 297 real,67-68, 145,152,314
systematic unity of, 1;: sensuous or sensible, 432
See also idealismlidealisu; Kant, Im- theoretical, 226, 258
manuel; Kantianism; Kantian phi- total, 402
losophy; Wi.ssenschaft.slehre Stt also feeling; imagination/power of
empty, tog intagination; intuition/intuiting;
first principle of, u, 95· 108-to, 118, reason; reflection; thinking/
126 thought; willing, act of
formulaic, 405 principle, regulative, 383
language and terminology of, I,, lJ, productive activity (Mi.idJm), 386
Jl, 100-102, 394· 4'3· 4•5· 423, prohibition, feeling of, 292, 345
430 proof/proving, 82, to8-g, 136, 239, 386
method or procedure of, 235-36, 261 n,
339·363.37'· 401,4/4 qualitie~. basic or elementary, 170, 171n,
need for, 8o-S r, 88 '77
origin of, 88 quantift.ability, 135
Popular', 83, 8Jn quantity, 135-37, 170, 387-88
possibility of, 89-91, 472-73 quantum, t!}gn, 219,212,248,272,312,
ofthe postulates, 471 420,457
practit:al, 4, 11, 85-86, 157, 182,468- of comprehending, 225
71,473 of determinability, 286-87, 289
proof in, 82, 95· 101, 108-9, 118 of e!rtcacy, 444
real (rul}, 358, 472-73 of striving, 254, 258
starting point of, 430 Se~ also limiullimitationllimited
systematic form of, Sll, 108 condition
theoretical, 4, 11, Bs-86. '57· 182,
468-71, 473 real, the, 78, 141, 148, 170,333, 394-g6,
transcendental, 122, 324, 332, 334• 34 1• 415, 437
36o·371-73·381,458,472 and the ideal, tSa, 333· 359· 390• 392,
See also dogmatismldogmatisu; idealisml 394-96
idealists; intuition/intuiting; role of, realism, 184
in philosophy; Kant, Immanuel; reality, 103, 228-29, 232, 434
reflection; viewpoint/point of view/ of the actions described within philoso-
standpoint: philosophical; Wi.ssen- phy, 103
schaft.slehre of the Not· I, 185
physics, 4 17 See also being
Index 491
reason: origin of, 102, 261
absolute, 352n positing of, 3a9
determinate, 302 power of, 36a, 4oa
essence or character of, a3 reality of, 79
finite, 105, 3 15 sensible, 367n, 374
interest of, 95 resistance, 171
levels of, 154-55 synthesis of, 6a, 166
limits of, 104-5, 139, 27a, 330 revelation, immediate, 1 15, 197
and nature, 471 right (Rtcht):
practical, J, 304, 470 concept of, 230
primacy of, 12, 162-63 natural, 295
pure, 262 theory of, 47o-72
realm of, 75. 349-51, 355· 447-49,
452-!13· 455-57, 470. See al.so be- Schelling, Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph, 27,
ing: rational, realm of 29-JO, 4J, 115
speculative, 394 schemalschematism, 238, 243. 247, :~6a,
system of, 37 4 273
theoretical, 1 I - I 2, 304 Schiller, Johann Christoph Friedrich von,
See al.so being: rational; I; freedom; 164
thinking/thought utun Concerning Anthelic Edu.calicn, •fl-4
reciprocity/reciprocal interaction. See Schmid, Karl Christian Erhard, I08n
lntefilction Schulze, Gottlob Ernst Ludwig, I, 2, I 1,
reflection, 66-67, 70, 73, a6, 133, •54· 94"
t6o, .a3. '93· 217,220,232. 3'4· Stt al.so Aentltidemus; slepticism
326,330,334-35·423 science:
discunive character of, 73, 322 demands of, 97, 120
and feeling, 176, 217 natural, 461
freedom of, 99. tat, 219-20, 230,314- need for, a1, 84
'7•322,326, 330-31,335.342 Stt al.so philosophy/philosopher; Wissen-
laws of, a6, 12a-29, 134, 140, 333-34 sdwfLJ/ehre
object of, 70, 325, 450 self, 150
power of, 334 self-activity (SelfuliiligkeU), 93-94, 96-97,
pure, 120 121, '4a. '54· lg<>, 337-3a. 350,
reflective opposition, law of, 125 427-2a
Reinhold, Karl Leonhard, 2, J, _51l, Io-12, absolute, 272, 336
lf, 2f, 31, 109-10, .a5n, t8a, self-affection, 143, 147-4a, 150, 157,
27a. 4o8 '59-00, .,., '73· 225, 26..J-65,
Set al.so Elementary Philosophy; philoso- 312, 456
phy/philosopher: Critical self-apprehension, 414
religion, philosophy of, 29, 471 self-consciousness, 220, 381, 345, 39'• 425
Set al.so God conditions (for the possibility) of, tf4,
repose, state of (Ruht), 66, 116-19, 122- 217, 3aa.436-37
23, 126-28, 130-31, •33· 324-25 immediate, 66, 119-20, t6a, 223, 270,
representation, 141, 372, 38o, 399, 433n, 37'·422
and acting, 162-63, 218, 337 origin of, 35 1
consciousness of, 7a See al.so Act; consciousness; freedom; I;
deduction of, 162-63 willing, act of
and feeling, tgo, 230 self-determining, act of, 74• 133, 141, 150,
fint, 351 •75· .a,, 193, 205, 254, 26g, 274,
freely produced, 129 352, 383·4o6.4o8.410,413-14,
laws of, 222, 42a 416,422-24,429,452
necessary (accompanied by feeling of absolute, 272
necessity), a7-a9, 91, !)6-97. too, as what is fint and highest, 4 14
102-3 selfhood, 43a-39, 461
objective validity of, 78-79. a4. a,, concept of, 351, 423
102-3, tgon, 230-32, 24a, 252 self-intuition, 121, 123, 142-43, 145, '74•
and objects or things, 70, 7a. a4, a7, 20 1, 201), 2 I 2, 3 I 2
.aa,2.a, 227, 233· 362 self-limitation, 435, 45a, 471
492 Index
self-observation, 66, 101-2, 110, 119-110, striving, 172, 174, 183, 185, 199-:.too,
143· 211,361,386, 391 212,214, 254· 256-57· 275·336
self-positing. See I, self-positing of feeling of, 198, 202, 230
self-production, 4114-25, 437 infinite, 254, "55
self-reflection, 92 limitation of, 292
self-sufficiency, 93, 95· 439· 443· 444 positing of, 7 1-72
sensation, 207 self-engendered, 172
sensibility, 344 suppressed, 259
general system of, 177-81, 207-9, subject, the, 114
253·3n8 absolute, 386
sensibili:z.ation/process of making sensible active, 163, 2 10
(Versinnlithung), 1181, 1196-97, 341, choosing, 375
345-46,38g.393o407-8,410,418, wmprehending, 153, 224
4114·439·444·450-53· 459n. of consciousness, 12 8
464-65 determining, 381, 416, 420-21, 454·
sensible, what is, 1181, 364, 397 46o-62
sensuousness, 344 feeling, 18o-81, 188, 2og-1o, 253. 255,
series, 1167, 280, 358 3 13·329,396
dual, of what is subjective (intended) intuiting, 132, 140-41, 144, 150, 153,
and what is objective (discovered), 18o-81, 188, 209, 211, 215, 219,
1311. See also thinking/thought: 251,255
ideal, real mediating, 366
mechanical, 4 '7, 456 productive, 144
organic, 4 17 representing, g1-g2, g6-g7, 163, 227,
of the real and ideal, 3g6, 427-28, 2gon, 248, 26o
4611-63 thinking, 300, 366, 396
skepticism, 79· 81 willing, 200, 'l70, 28o, 299, 3 I 1, 315,
Humean, 1 3 19· goo, s68. 387
soul, 78, 112, 114, 341, 345• 4o8, 420, See also consciousness; I
43•· 458 subUme, the, 278
and body, 34'· sg6. 458 substance, 94, 129, 131, 410-11, 431-32,
space, 70-71, 104-5, 156, 2o8-g, Y32, 433"·440·444
239-48, 1152-57,273·301,309· absolute character of, 41 o
320-117 and accident, 126-27, 164
a priori character of, 240 category of, 416
continuity of, 71, 247-48 concept or, 75· 410
determination or measuremem of, 245- substantiality, 246
51' 256-57· 258. 272-73· 275· Set category of, 391, 412, 4'll-22
also determination/determining, act concept of, 42o-21, 424, 442
of: of place and time, 442
ideality of, 246n, s67. 370 substrate, 97, 1810, 324, 440
infinite divisibility of, 244-45, 398, 400 succession, 'l05, 3!)4
infinity of, 200-201, 254-55,413, 435• summons (Aujf<JI'derung) to free action
465-66 and/or free self-limitation, 74, 76,
imuition of, 7 1 350-53· 355-58, 363, g6g-7o,
positing of objeru in, 72, 184, 229, 241, 453-57·459·461,469
256-57·438-39,457 supersensible, the, 24!!. 287, 290, 291n,
See also body; intuition/intuiting; matter go6,315·366-67,397·453·457
Spinoza, Benedict de, 92, 400 synthesis, 87, 8g, 1og-10, 124, 126, 137,
spirit, or mind (Geist), 1 14, 32 1, 3g6, 408, 212, 219, ngn, 269, 285-86, 326,
420,434·436·474 g65,368,373• g8o,388,gg2,
duality of, 365, 440 394-95·412,420,434·441,
mechanism or "inner working"' of, 132, 444· 446
200 original, highest, or primary, 85,382,
system of, 192 392.396, 399·402,411-12,416-
vs. letter, 7, n., 474 17. 420,426-27, 444· 446-47· 451,
See also activity; I; intellect/intelligence 463--65
spontaneity, 145, 150, 208, 247, 338 of willing and being, 312
lndex 493
synthetic method, procedure, or manner objective, 11511, ~jig. 346, 300, 383,
of thinking, 1811, 248-49, 285, 18g, 385. 401
297-98.449 organic, 427
See ai.Jo thinking/thought: synthetic original, 387
synthetic unity, I!P• 172n, 195n, 196, problematic, 200
201, 202, u8, 238, ~41, 247, 346, productive, 432
383, 39 I, Se. ai.Jo fivefoJdneS>; pure, 364, 390·393·405-6,416,418,
thinking/thought 425, 432, 444· 453
systematic form, 84 real, 300, 364, 372, 384-85, 388-go,
See alro philosophy/philosopher 393.420-27.429-32·434-35·
437-41·444-45·449.458
task or self-limitation, 73-74· 337-45· series of, 384-93
349·436, 447.457-59·469 sensible or sensuous, 364, 389-go,
twofold aspect or, 447
See alro freedom 435.458
supersensible, 243
thesis, 85
synthetic, 313, 364-66, 370-76, 379,
absolute, 285
thing/things, 70, 75, 156, 240, 438,443 38o-85·395·415
See ai.Jo synthesis; synthetic method,
actual, 78
procedure, or manner of thinking
external, 184, 11117-118
in itself, So, g1, 94· 105, 119, 164, 185, tTiU15Cendent, 95
transcendental, 95
279.3113·334"·338.433n and willing, 319, 425
unintelligibility of, t63, 434n
as noumenon, 443 TK:demann, Dietrich, 88
as phenomenon, 443 time, 104-5, 156, 184, 267, 26g-7o, 2710,
reality of, 107, 11118 277-8•, 300, 3o1n, 312, 316,320,
representation of, 70, 227 322-23·337.366-6g, 371, 377·
thinking/thought, 117, 188, 282, 284,309. 38o. 409-10, 442
deduction of, ao5
323·374·38!'1·422
ab!lolute, 439 and duration, 409-10, 442
abstract, 376-79 ideality of, 370, 4 1 1
and acting, 450-51 infinity of, 254
analytic, 365-66, :J7o, 379 measurement of, 252
and being. See being: and thinking, .series or (temporal series), 72, 26g, 274·
identity of 288, !j61, 374·75· 378,409
categorical, 200 See alrti intuition/intuiting
concrete, 376-79,426 transition, movement or (Uebrrgrhm):
determinate, ~oo. 43~ from determinability to determinacy,
discunive, 84. 145. 184, 2118, 28o, 1198, 66-67, 116-q, l!jl, '33· 142, '45·
300· 311,313,387 '47· '54· 207· 225, 237-38. 268,
duality of, 458 286,293, 299-!'JOI, 305,347-48,
empirical, 299, 43~. 440 36o-61. sas. 40 '• 407, 432, 452-53
and feeling, 385, 387-88 law or principle of, 121-23, 134, 179,
form of, 310 219,200,294• 296,301,378,427
free, go from determinacy to determinability,
of a goal, 300 lOg
See ai.Jo goal, concept of from repose to activity, 129, 137
ideal, 300, 364, 3711-88, 426-27, 429- truth, 218-19, 225, 229-30, 23¥, 251, 333
31, 437-4'· 444-45.458 objective, 251, 257
series of, 372-88
and imagining, 415 understanding (Verstand), 361, 468
immediate, 382 Sr~ ai.Jo cognition/knowing; thinking/
indeterminate, 1135-36 thought
and intuition, 319, 368, 44 7-48 unity, systematic, ro
laws of, 100, 161, 2g6, 300, 309, 316, See oi.Jo synthesis; synthetic unity
lJ2!). 335• 367,374, 399• 412-13,
427,453-54·467-68 validity, 230-31, 287, 332
mediated, 382, 387, 393 hypothetical, 8o
necessary, 292,361, 432 objective, •!!o-31, 252
494 Index