Page:Popular Works of Johann Gottlieb Fichte (1889) Vol 2.djvu/70

 At the time when he goes forth into action, and has already once for all completed in his own mind the consecration of his life, he and he only, and none other but himself, has examined and approved the mode of life which he has set before him;—how then does he know that Present and Future Ages will likewise approve it and cover it with immortal glory?—how does he come so boldly to ascribe to the whole his own standard of what is honourable and praiseworthy? Yet he does this, as is alleged; and this single remark of itself proves, that, in acting as he does, far from being moved thereto by the hope of future fame, he holds up to future Ages, in his own deeds springing forth in native purity from the primeval fountain of honour, the example of what they must approve and reverence, if their judgment is to have any weight with him;—despising and even utterly rejecting such judgment if it be not in accordance with that which has already approved itself to him as worthy of eternal honour and respect. And thus it is not ambition which is the parent of great deeds, but great deeds themselves give birth to faith in a world in which they must command respect. That form of Honour, indeed, which comes before us in every-day life, and of which we do not now speak, proceeds entirely from fear of disgrace; without power to excite man to active duty, it only holds him back from that which would be notoriously despised, and disappears as soon as he can hope to pass unnoticed. Another Ambition, of which too we do not now speak, which first pores over ancient chronicles to discover what in them is commended, and then endeavours to imitate that, so as also to become an object of commendation; and which being incapable of creating the New, strives to reproduce in itself certain effete memorials of the Past, which once indeed may have possessed life and energy:—such an ambition may sacrifice itself, but that to which it devotes itself is not an Idea but a Conceit;—and it misses its purpose; for what is once dead