康德之死
Immanuel Kant (1724-1804)
The life of the philosopher is often that of the neurotically obsessive. This is particularly true of Kant. At 4:55 a.m. Kant's footman, Lampe, would march into his master's room and cry, "Herr Professor, the time is come." Kant would be seated at his breakfast table by the time the clock struck five. He drank several cups of tea, smoked his only pipe of the day, and began to prepare his morning lecture.
Kant would go downstairs to his lecture room and teach from seven until nine and then return upstairs in order to write. At precisely 12:45, Kant would call to his cook, "It has struck three-quarters," which meant that lunch was to be served. After taking what he referred to as a "dram," he would begin lunch at precisely one o'clock. Kant eagerly anticipated lunch, both because it was his only real meal of the day and, his being gregarious, it was an occasion for conversation. Indeed, Kant believed--and I think he is right-- that conversation aided digestion. He followed Lord Chesterfield's rule, which meant that the number of guests should never be fewer than the graces or more than the muses and was usually between four and eight. Kant never talked philosophy and women were never invited.
After the meal was over, Kant would take his famous walk, by which the good wives of Konigsberg would be able to tell the time (the one time he missed his walk was when he was too absorbed in the reading of Rousseau's Emile). Kant walked alone so that he could breathe through the mouth, which he thought healthier. He was disgusted by perspiration, and during summer walks would stand perfectly still in the shade until he dried off. He also never wore garters, for fear of blocking the circulation of the blood.
After an evening of reading, writing and reverie, he would go to bed at exactly ten o'clock. Kant would then proceed to enswathe himself in the bedclothes in a very exact manner, like a silkworm in its cocoon, and repeat the name "Cicero" several times. He slept extremely well.
Kant's decline was slow and harrowing and is described in powerful, poignant if slightly plodding detail by his former student and servant Wasianski. The latter's memoir was translated with interpolations by Thomas de Quincey as The Last Days of Immanuel Kant.
Kant had suffered from a stomach affliction for many years, which eventually robbed him of all appetite except for bread and butter with English cheese. He suffered from frequent and dreadful nightmares with the constant apparition of murderers at his bedside. What was worse, Kant was fully cognizant of his decline and had little desire to see friends and enjoy the pleasures of company.
On his last day, Kant was speechless and Wasianski gave him a tiny quantity of water mixed with sweet wine in a spoon until he whispered his last word, "Sufficit" ("It is enough") . Against his wishes for a simple funeral, Kant lay in state for sixteen days and the lavish funeral procession was attended by thousands. Kant fever continued to spread across the German-speaking world and the rest of Europe.
Although at times a great stylist, the body of Kant's philosophy is too often clothed in the rather elaborate formal academic dress of its time. Kant was the first major modern philosopher to make his living as a professional teacher of the subject in a way that would be followed by Fichte, Hegel and others (although Kant also taught a dazzling range of other subjects: geography, physics, astronomy, geology and natural history). Sadly, this professional deformation makes much of what Kant says appear unduly abstruse.
If one were forced to try to summarize Kant's mature philosophy in a sentence, one could do worse than follow the great Kant scholar W. H. Walsh in saying, "He wished to insist on the authority of science and yet preserve the autonomy of morals." This is the gigantic task that still faces us: how are we to reconcile the disenchantment of the universe brought about by the Copernican and Newtonian revolution in natural science with the human experience of a world infused with moral, aesthetic, cultural and religious value? Is such reconciliation possible or are science and morals doomed to drift apart into a general nihilism? Such is still, I believe, our question. Holderlin, the great German poet, called Kant the "Moses of our nation." One wonders which of his manysuccessors fancy themselves as Christ.
The life of the philosopher is often that of the neurotically obsessive. This is particularly true of Kant. At 4:55 a.m. Kant's footman, Lampe, would march into his master's room and cry, "Herr Professor, the time is come." Kant would be seated at his breakfast table by the time the clock struck five. He drank several cups of tea, smoked his only pipe of the day, and began to prepare his morning lecture.
Kant would go downstairs to his lecture room and teach from seven until nine and then return upstairs in order to write. At precisely 12:45, Kant would call to his cook, "It has struck three-quarters," which meant that lunch was to be served. After taking what he referred to as a "dram," he would begin lunch at precisely one o'clock. Kant eagerly anticipated lunch, both because it was his only real meal of the day and, his being gregarious, it was an occasion for conversation. Indeed, Kant believed--and I think he is right-- that conversation aided digestion. He followed Lord Chesterfield's rule, which meant that the number of guests should never be fewer than the graces or more than the muses and was usually between four and eight. Kant never talked philosophy and women were never invited.
After the meal was over, Kant would take his famous walk, by which the good wives of Konigsberg would be able to tell the time (the one time he missed his walk was when he was too absorbed in the reading of Rousseau's Emile). Kant walked alone so that he could breathe through the mouth, which he thought healthier. He was disgusted by perspiration, and during summer walks would stand perfectly still in the shade until he dried off. He also never wore garters, for fear of blocking the circulation of the blood.
After an evening of reading, writing and reverie, he would go to bed at exactly ten o'clock. Kant would then proceed to enswathe himself in the bedclothes in a very exact manner, like a silkworm in its cocoon, and repeat the name "Cicero" several times. He slept extremely well.
Kant's decline was slow and harrowing and is described in powerful, poignant if slightly plodding detail by his former student and servant Wasianski. The latter's memoir was translated with interpolations by Thomas de Quincey as The Last Days of Immanuel Kant.
Kant had suffered from a stomach affliction for many years, which eventually robbed him of all appetite except for bread and butter with English cheese. He suffered from frequent and dreadful nightmares with the constant apparition of murderers at his bedside. What was worse, Kant was fully cognizant of his decline and had little desire to see friends and enjoy the pleasures of company.
On his last day, Kant was speechless and Wasianski gave him a tiny quantity of water mixed with sweet wine in a spoon until he whispered his last word, "Sufficit" ("It is enough") . Against his wishes for a simple funeral, Kant lay in state for sixteen days and the lavish funeral procession was attended by thousands. Kant fever continued to spread across the German-speaking world and the rest of Europe.
Although at times a great stylist, the body of Kant's philosophy is too often clothed in the rather elaborate formal academic dress of its time. Kant was the first major modern philosopher to make his living as a professional teacher of the subject in a way that would be followed by Fichte, Hegel and others (although Kant also taught a dazzling range of other subjects: geography, physics, astronomy, geology and natural history). Sadly, this professional deformation makes much of what Kant says appear unduly abstruse.
If one were forced to try to summarize Kant's mature philosophy in a sentence, one could do worse than follow the great Kant scholar W. H. Walsh in saying, "He wished to insist on the authority of science and yet preserve the autonomy of morals." This is the gigantic task that still faces us: how are we to reconcile the disenchantment of the universe brought about by the Copernican and Newtonian revolution in natural science with the human experience of a world infused with moral, aesthetic, cultural and religious value? Is such reconciliation possible or are science and morals doomed to drift apart into a general nihilism? Such is still, I believe, our question. Holderlin, the great German poet, called Kant the "Moses of our nation." One wonders which of his manysuccessors fancy themselves as Christ.
还没人转发这篇日记
