Fichte's Science of Knowledge. Charles Carroll Everett
Kant two methods of procedure, either of which may be employed. By this, I affirm simply the formal possibility of such procedure; whether either method would be found practicable, is a question that is not here raised. Two classes of beings are recognized by Kant. The first class includes phenomenal existences—those which exist in the mind itself. We have, here, the whole objective world in the strict sense of this term. We have the Objects of perception filled out and bound together by the Categories of the understanding. These Objects are given directly in consciousness. The Thing-in-itself could be put into the same division with them. It could be regarded as a product of the Categories, embodying them, and placed, by the mind, behind the objects of its creation to give them unity, solidity, and permanence. In other words, instead of placing the Thing-in-itself outside the mind, it would be inclosed within the mind; the Categories of the understanding being stretched so as to receive it.
Over against the phenomenal existences, here described, is the Absolute Being, or, God. Those are the product of the intellectual or theoretical powers; this is a postulate of the practical reason. It is reached only by an act of faith. Its reality is postulated, not proved. We cannot say that it is; we can only say that it must be. It would be at least formally possible to look upon the Thing-in-itself, from a similar point of view, to accept it as real, but to regard it also as a postulate, as something held by a practical necessity, without logical grounds, and without comprehension.
Either of these methods could be followed without introducing any new element into the system of Kant. Any fundamentally different method would take us out of the sphere of Kant’s philosophy. Whether Fichte adopted either of these methods, whether he did not incline to both, as he looked at the matter in one aspect or another, and how true he remained to the Kantian tradition, we shall see as we advance.
III. Problems Suggested by the Practical Reason.
A third very important problem, or group of problems, is suggested by the work of Kant. His system culminates in the thought of the moral law, of freedom, of God, and of immortality. These are recognized as standing in a profound and intimate relation to one another. Man’s freedom finds its scope and its evidence in morality. The moral law finds its scope and its reality in human freedom. The being of God is a postulate of the moral law, which would be idle and fruitless without it. The idea of God is thus practically the product of the moral law, and includes nothing that is not suggested by it. Immortality is also a postulate of the moral law.
The statements that Kant makes, in regard to the relation of God and immortality to the moral law, are not wholly free from contradiction. His first account of the matter is given near the close of the “Critique of Pure Reason.” It is here treated under the special head, “What shall I hope?” and under the more general head, “The Ideal of the Highest Good.” Two elements are recognized as constituting the highest good. One of these elements is righteousness; the other is happiness. In the idea of the highest good, these, we are told, stand to one another in a definite relation; happiness is exactly proportioned to desert. This relation between obedience to duty and happiness Kant maintains to be fundamental. Indeed duty would, he affirms, be powerless, if we had no reason to believe that happiness would follow from its accomplishment. Duty, indeed, should always be the prime motive of our acts; but this motive would not be sufficient of itself to move us. If, then, happiness is to be made proportionate to desert, we must postulate a power that can accomplish this; and a sphere in which it can be accomplished. The power that we thus postulate is God, and the sphere is the immortal life.
In this whole statement, the relation is made purely personal. We have the individual requiring to be assured that his virtue will be crowned with happiness. This is not, indeed, because he demands a reward; but because virtue would necessarily be regarded as a phantom of the brain, unless there were united with it that happiness which we recognize as its necessary result. “Therefore, everyone regards the moral laws as commands; which they could not be, if they did not connect with their requirements results having an a priori adaptation to them, and thus if they did not bring with themselves promises and threats.”[6] It is thus obvious that what was here in the mind of Kant was something of the nature of rewards and punishments. God is regarded as the power that represents the moral law, and applies its sanctions. These sanctions must not be supposed to be arbitrarily affixed to the law; they are bound up with the very idea of it. On the other hand, the law is not self-executing. It is not sufficient even to secure obedience, unless these rewards and punishments are associated with it. Perhaps we might say that the meaning is, that the law could not secure allegiance unless it could show that it is actually supreme in the universe. Still it must be remembered that, as before remarked, the question, “What shall I hope?” is here supreme; and the rewards and threatenings have to do with the well being of the individual himself.
Later, he treats the same subject more fully in his “Critique of the Practical Reason.”[7] The general view in this later exposition is the same as that in the earlier; except that here the personal element is kept much more in the background. Kant evidently feels the delicacy of the position more keenly than he did before. He sees that anything like threatenings and rewards is wholly out of place in his system of morality, which demands the right for the sake of the right alone.
In the later treatment, the postulates of immortality and the being of God are separated, each being put upon an independent footing. Immortality is postulated, not that obedience to the moral law shall be rewarded; but in order that this law itself shall have free scope; not for the sake of happiness, but for the sake of virtue. The moral law, Kant tells us in effect, is infinite. At no moment can the perfect holiness which it requires be attained. Eternity, therefore, must be postulated if the moral law is to be obeyed. An eternal progress is the only form under which obedience to it can be possible.
It might appear doubtful, at first sight, whether we have here a contradiction or a difference of emphasis. I am inclined to think, however, that, in this case, a difference of emphasis is a contradiction. Each view is given in its place as the explanation and ground of the postulate. Either of these views may furnish the basis for belief in immortality; or both of them, taken in relation to one another, may do this; but it is impossible that each of them should independently, and at the same time, furnish this basis.
The thought of the necessary apportionment of happiness to desert, which in the earlier treatment is made the occasion of postulating both God and immortality, is, in the later statement, made to furnish the ground for postulating the existence of God alone. But even here, the point of view is essentially changed. Before, the thought of personal happiness was prominent, if, indeed, the thought of the happiness of others entered at all into the discussion. The question was squarely asked: If I so conduct as to be not unworthy of happiness, shall I obtain happiness? In the later treatment, the proportioning of happiness to desert is made the general end toward which a moral being must work. The accomplishing of the result is, however, far beyond the powers of any finite being. We must postulate, then, the existence of an infinite Being, by whom the result aimed at shall be accomplished. My happiness, should I deserve happiness, is indeed bound up with the general happiness. It is an item in the mass. It is not, however, this fact that determines my activity. I am working for a general result, to which this is only incidental.
It will be noticed that we have, in this second statement, two complemental postulates, one of which insists upon what is needed by the individual in order that obedience to the law shall be possible to him, while the other refers to the difficulty of accomplishment that is inherent in the law itself. I must have scope for that infinite progress by which alone my obedience is possible; and there must also be a power that shall make possible the result which the law demands. The personal element which in the earlier statement was supreme, is in this later statement hardly appreciable.
This change in the position of Kant is interesting as illustrating the fact that Kant was seeking reasons to justify his postulates rather than basing his postulates on principles that were seen to demand them. The statement that the hope of individual happiness is essential to virtue, is thrown aside, but the result that had