5854 lines
446 KiB
Plaintext
5854 lines
446 KiB
Plaintext
LIBRARY OF THE FUTURE (R) First Edition Ver. 4.02
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Critique of Practical Reason Kant Immanuel
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1788
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THE CRITIQUE OF PRACTICAL REASON
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by Immanuel Kant
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translated by Thomas Kingsmill Abbott
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Electronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1991, World Library, Inc.
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PREFACE
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PREFACE.
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This work is called the Critique of Practical Reason, not of the
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pure practical reason, although its parallelism with the speculative
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critique would seem to require the latter term. The reason of this
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appears sufficiently from the treatise itself. Its business is to show
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that there is pure practical reason, and for this purpose it
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criticizes the entire practical faculty of reason. If it succeeds in
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this, it has no need to criticize the pure faculty itself in order
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to see whether reason in making such a claim does not presumptuously
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overstep itself (as is the case with the speculative reason). For
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if, as pure reason, it is actually practical, it proves its own
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reality and that of its concepts by fact, and all disputation
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against the possibility of its being real is futile.
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With this faculty, transcendental freedom is also established;
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freedom, namely, in that absolute sense in which speculative reason
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required it in its use of the concept of causality in order to
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escape the antinomy into which it inevitably falls, when in the
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chain of cause and effect it tries to think the unconditioned.
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Speculative reason could only exhibit this concept (of freedom)
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problematically as not impossible to thought, without assuring it
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any objective reality, and merely lest the supposed impossibility of
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what it must at least allow to be thinkable should endanger its very
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being and plunge it into an abyss of scepticism.
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Inasmuch as the reality of the concept of freedom is proved by an
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apodeictic law of practical reason, it is the keystone of the whole
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system of pure reason, even the speculative, and all other concepts
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(those of God and immortality) which, as being mere ideas, remain in
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it unsupported, now attach themselves to this concept, and by it
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obtain consistence and objective reality; that is to say, their
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possibility is proved by the fact that freedom actually exists, for
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this idea is revealed by the moral law.
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Freedom, however, is the only one of all the ideas of the
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speculative reason of which we know the possibility a priori (without,
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however, understanding it), because it is the condition of the moral
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law which we know.* The ideas of God and immortality, however, are not
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conditions of the moral law, but only conditions of the necessary
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object of a will determined by this law; that is to say, conditions of
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the practical use of our pure reason. Hence, with respect to these
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ideas, we cannot affirm that we know and understand, I will not say
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the actuality, but even the possibility of them. However they are
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the conditions of the application of the morally determined will to
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its object, which is given to it a priori, viz., the summum bonum.
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Consequently in this practical point of view their possibility must be
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assumed, although we cannot theoretically know and understand it. To
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justify this assumption it is sufficient, in a practical point of
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view, that they contain no intrinsic impossibility (contradiction).
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Here we have what, as far as speculative reason is concerned, is a
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merely subjective principle of assent, which, however, is
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objectively valid for a reason equally pure but practical, and this
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principle, by means of the concept of freedom, assures objective
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reality and authority to the ideas of God and immortality. Nay,
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there is a subjective necessity (a need of pure reason) to assume
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them. Nevertheless the theoretical knowledge of reason is not hereby
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enlarged, but only the possibility is given, which heretofore was
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merely a problem and now becomes assertion, and thus the practical use
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of reason is connected with the elements of theoretical reason. And
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this need is not a merely hypothetical one for the arbitrary
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purposes of speculation, that we must assume something if we wish in
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speculation to carry reason to its utmost limits, but it is a need
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which has the force of law to assume something without which that
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cannot be which we must inevitably set before us as the aim of our
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action.
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{PREFACE ^paragraph 5}
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*Lest any one should imagine that he finds an inconsistency here
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when I call freedom the condition of the moral law, and hereafter
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maintain in the treatise itself that the moral law is the condition
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under which we can first become conscious of freedom, I will merely
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remark that freedom is the ratio essendi of the moral law, while the
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moral law is the ratio cognoscendi of freedom. For Pad not the moral
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law been previously distinctly thought in our reason, we should
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never consider ourselves justified in assuming such a thing as
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freedom, although it be not contradictory. But were there no freedom
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it would be impossible to trace the moral law in ourselves at all.
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It would certainly be more satisfactory to our speculative reason if
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it could solve these problems for itself without this circuit and
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preserve the solution for practical use as a thing to be referred
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to, but in fact our faculty of speculation is not so well provided.
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Those who boast of such high knowledge ought not to keep it back,
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but to exhibit it publicly that it may be tested and appreciated. They
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want to prove: very good, let them prove; and the critical
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philosophy lays its arms at their feet as the victors. Quid statis?
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Nolint. Atqui licet esse beatis. As they then do not in fact choose to
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do so, probably because they cannot, we must take up these arms
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again in order to seek in the mortal use of reason, and to base on
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this, the notions of God, freedom, and immortality, the possibility of
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which speculation cannot adequately prove.
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Here first is explained the enigma of the critical philosophy, viz.:
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how we deny objective reality to the supersensible use of the
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categories in speculation and yet admit this reality with respect to
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the objects of pure practical reason. This must at first seem
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inconsistent as long as this practical use is only nominally known.
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But when, by a thorough analysis of it, one becomes aware that the
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reality spoken of does not imply any theoretical determination of
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the categories and extension of our knowledge to the supersensible;
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but that what is meant is that in this respect an object belongs to
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them, because either they are contained in the necessary determination
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of the will a priori, or are inseparably connected with its object;
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then this inconsistency disappears, because the use we make of these
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concepts is different from what speculative reason requires. On the
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other hand, there now appears an unexpected and very satisfactory
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proof of the consistency of the speculative critical philosophy. For
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whereas it insisted that the objects of experience as such,
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including our own subject, have only the value of phenomena, while
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at the same time things in themselves must be supposed as their basis,
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so that not everything supersensible was to be regarded as a fiction
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and its concept as empty; so now practical reason itself, without
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any concert with the speculative, assures reality to a supersensible
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object of the category of causality, viz., freedom, although (as
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becomes a practical concept) only for practical use; and this
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establishes on the evidence of a fact that which in the former case
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could only be conceived. By this the strange but certain doctrine of
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the speculative critical philosophy, that the thinking subject is to
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itself in internal intuition only a phenomenon, obtains in the
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critical examination of the practical reason its full confirmation,
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and that so thoroughly that we should be compelled to adopt this
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doctrine, even if the former had never proved it at all.*
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{PREFACE ^paragraph 10}
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*The union of causality as freedom with causality as rational
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mechanism, the former established by the moral law, the latter by
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the law of nature in the same subject, namely, man, is impossible,
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unless we conceive him with reference to the former as a being in
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himself, and with reference to the latter as a phenomenon- the
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former in pure consciousness, the latter in empirical consciousness.
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Otherwise reason inevitably contradicts itself.
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By this also I can understand why the most considerable objections
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which I have as yet met with against the Critique turn about these two
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points, namely, on the one side, the objective reality of the
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categories as applied to noumena, which is in the theoretical
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department of knowledge denied, in the practical affirmed; and on
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the other side, the paradoxical demand to regard oneself qua subject
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of freedom as a noumenon, and at the same time from the point of
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view of physical nature as a phenomenon in one's own empirical
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consciousness; for as long as one has formed no definite notions of
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morality and freedom, one could not conjecture on the one side what
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was intended to be the noumenon, the basis of the alleged
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phenomenon, and on the other side it seemed doubtful whether it was at
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all possible to form any notion of it, seeing that we had previously
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assigned all the notions of the pure understanding in its
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theoretical use exclusively to phenomena. Nothing but a detailed
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criticism of the practical reason can remove all this
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misapprehension and set in a clear light the consistency which
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constitutes its greatest merit.
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So much by way of justification of the proceeding by which, in
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this work, the notions and principles of pure speculative reason which
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have already undergone their special critical examination are, now and
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then, again subjected to examination. This would not in other cases be
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in accordance with the systematic process by which a science is
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established, since matters which have been decided ought only to be
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cited and not again discussed. In this case, however, it was not
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only allowable but necessary, because reason is here considered in
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transition to a different use of these concepts from what it had
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made of them before. Such a transition necessitates a comparison of
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the old and the new usage, in order to distinguish well the new path
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from the old one and, at the same time, to allow their connection to
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be observed. Accordingly considerations of this kind, including
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those which are once more directed to the concept of freedom in the
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practical use of the pure reason, must not be regarded as an
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interpolation serving only to fill up the gaps in the critical
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system of speculative reason (for this is for its own purpose
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complete), or like the props and buttresses which in a hastily
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constructed building are often added afterwards; but as true members
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which make the connexion of the system plain, and show us concepts,
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here presented as real, which there could only be presented
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problematically. This remark applies especially to the concept of
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freedom, respecting which one cannot but observe with surprise that so
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many boast of being able to understand it quite well and to explain
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its possibility, while they regard it only psychologically, whereas if
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they had studied it in a transcendental point of view, they must
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have recognized that it is not only indispensable as a problematical
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concept, in the complete use of speculative reason, but also quite
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incomprehensible; and if they afterwards came to consider its
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practical use, they must needs have come to the very mode of
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determining the principles of this, to which they are now so loth to
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assent. The concept of freedom is the stone of stumbling for all
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empiricists, but at the same time the key to the loftiest practical
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principles for critical moralists, who perceive by its means that they
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must necessarily proceed by a rational method. For this reason I beg
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the reader not to pass lightly over what is said of this concept at
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the end of the Analytic.
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I must leave it to those who are acquainted with works of this
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kind to judge whether such a system as that of the practical reason,
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which is here developed from the critical examination of it, has
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cost much or little trouble, especially in seeking not to miss the
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true point of view from which the whole can be rightly sketched. It
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presupposes, indeed, the Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic of
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Morals, but only in so far as this gives a preliminary acquaintance
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with the principle of duty, and assigns and justifies a definite
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formula thereof; in other respects it is independent.* It results from
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the nature of this practical faculty itself that the complete
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classification of all practical sciences cannot be added, as in the
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critique of the speculative reason. For it is not possible to define
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duties specially, as human duties, with a view to their
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classification, until the subject of this definition (viz., man) is
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known according to his actual nature, at least so far as is
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necessary with respect to duty; this, however, does not belong to a
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critical examination of the practical reason, the business of which is
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only to assign in a complete manner the principles of its possibility,
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extent, and limits, without special reference to human nature. The
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classification then belongs to the system of science, not to the
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system of criticism.
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{PREFACE ^paragraph 15}
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*A reviewer who wanted to find some fault with this work has hit the
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truth better, perhaps, than he thought, when he says that no new
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principle of morality is set forth in it, but only a new formula.
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But who would think of introducing a new principle of all morality and
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making himself as it were the first discoverer of it, just as if all
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the world before him were ignorant what duty was or had been in
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thorough-going error? But whoever knows of what importance to a
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mathematician a formula is, which defines accurately what is to be
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done to work a problem, will not think that a formula is insignificant
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and useless which does the same for all duty in general.
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In the second part of the Analytic I have given, as I trust, a
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sufficient answer to the objection of a truth-loving and acute critic*
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of the Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic of Morals- a critic
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always worthy of respect the objection, namely, that the notion of
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good was not established before the moral principle, as be thinks it
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ought to have been.*[2] I have also had regard to many of the
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objections which have reached me from men who show that they have at
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heart the discovery of the truth, and I shall continue to do so (for
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those who have only their old system before their eyes, and who have
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already settled what is to be approved or disapproved, do not desire
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any explanation which might stand in the way of their own private
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opinion.)
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{PREFACE ^paragraph 20}
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*[See Kant's "Das mag in der Theoric ricktig seyn," etc. Werke, vol.
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vii, p. 182.]
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*[2] It might also have been objected to me that I have not first
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defined the notion of the faculty of desire, or of the feeling of
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Pleasure, although this reproach would be unfair, because this
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definition might reasonably be presupposed as given in psychology.
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However, the definition there given might be such as to found the
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determination of the faculty of desire on the feeling of pleasure
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(as is commonly done), and thus the supreme principle of practical
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philosophy would be necessarily made empirical, which, however,
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remains to be proved and in this critique is altogether refuted. It
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will, therefore, give this definition here in such a manner as it
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ought to be given, in order to leave this contested point open at
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the beginning, as it should be. LIFE is the faculty a being has of
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acting according to laws of the faculty of desire. The faculty of
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DESIRE is the being's faculty of becoming by means of its ideas the
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cause of the actual existence of the objects of these ideas.
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PLEASURE is the idea of the agreement of the object, or the action
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with the subjective conditions of life, i.e., with the faculty of
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causality of an idea in respect of the actuality of its object (or
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with the determination of the forces of the subject to action which
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produces it). I have no further need for the purposes of this critique
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of notions borrowed from psychology; the critique itself supplies
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the rest. It is easily seen that the question whether the faculty of
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desire is always based on pleasure, or whether under certain
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conditions pleasure only follows the determination of desire, is by
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this definition left undecided, for it is composed only of terms
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belonging to the pure understanding, i.e., of categories which contain
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nothing empirical. Such precaution is very desirable in all philosophy
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and yet is often neglected; namely, not to prejudge questions by
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adventuring definitions before the notion has been completely
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analysed, which is often very late. It may be observed through the
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whole course of the critical philosophy (of the theoretical as well as
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the practical reason) that frequent opportunity offers of supplying
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defects in the old dogmatic method of philosophy, and of correcting
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errors which are not observed until we make such rational use of these
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notions viewing them as a whole.
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When we have to study a particular faculty of the human mind in
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its sources, its content, and its limits; then from the nature of
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human knowledge we must begin with its parts, with an accurate and
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complete exposition of them; complete, namely, so far as is possible
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in the present state of our knowledge of its elements. But there is
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another thing to be attended to which is of a more philosophical and
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architectonic character, namely, to grasp correctly the idea of the
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whole, and from thence to get a view of all those parts as mutually
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related by the aid of pure reason, and by means of their derivation
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from the concept of the whole. This is only possible through the
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most intimate acquaintance with the system; and those who find the
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first inquiry too troublesome, and do not think it worth their while
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to attain such an acquaintance, cannot reach the second stage, namely,
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the general view, which is a synthetical return to that which had
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previously been given analytically. It is no wonder then if they
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find inconsistencies everywhere, although the gaps which these
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indicate are not in the system itself, but in their own incoherent
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train of thought.
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I have no fear, as regards this treatise, of the reproach that I
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wish to introduce a new language, since the sort of knowledge here
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in question has itself somewhat of an everyday character. Nor even
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in the case of the former critique could this reproach occur to anyone
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who had thought it through and not merely turned over the leaves. To
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invent new words where the language has no lack of expressions for
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given notions is a childish effort to distinguish oneself from the
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crowd, if not by new and true thoughts, yet by new patches on the
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old garment. If, therefore, the readers of that work know any more
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familiar expressions which are as suitable to the thought as those
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seem to me to be, or if they think they can show the futility of these
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thoughts themselves and hence that of the expression, they would, in
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the first case, very much oblige me, for I only desire to be
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understood: and, in the second case, they would deserve well of
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philosophy. But, as long as these thoughts stand, I very much doubt
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that suitable and yet more common expressions for them can be found.*
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{PREFACE ^paragraph 25}
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*I am more afraid in the present treatise of occasional
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misconception in respect of some expressions which I have chosen
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with the greatest care in order that the notion to which they point
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may not be missed. Thus, in the table of categories of the Practical
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reason under the title of Modality, the Permitted, and forbidden (in a
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practical objective point of view, possible and impossible) have
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almost the same meaning in common language as the next category,
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duty and contrary to duty. Here, however, the former means what
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coincides with, or contradicts, a merely possible practical precept
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(for example, the solution of all problems of geometry and mechanics);
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the latter, what is similarly related to a law actually present in the
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reason; and this distinction is not quite foreign even to common
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language, although somewhat unusual. For example, it is forbidden to
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an orator, as such, to forge new words or constructions; in a
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certain degree this is permitted to a poet; in neither case is there
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any question of duty. For if anyone chooses to forfeit his
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reputation as an orator, no one can prevent him. We have here only
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to do with the distinction of imperatives into problematical,
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assertorial, and apodeictic. Similarly in the note in which I have
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pared the moral ideas of practical perfection in different
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philosophical schools, I have distinguished the idea of wisdom from
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that of holiness, although I have stated that essentially and
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objectively they are the same. But in that place I understand by the
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former only that wisdom to which man (the Stoic) lays claim; therefore
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I take it subjectively as an attribute alleged to belong to man.
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(Perhaps the expression virtue, with which also the made great show,
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would better mark the characteristic of his school.) The expression of
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a postulate of pure practical reason might give most occasion to
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misapprehension in case the reader confounded it with the
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signification of the postulates in pure mathematics, which carry
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apodeictic certainty with them. These, however, postulate the
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possibility of an action, the object of which has been previously
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recognized a priori in theory as possible, and that with perfect
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certainty. But the former postulates the possibility of an object
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itself (God and the immortality of the soul) from apodeictic practical
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laws, and therefore only for the purposes of a practical reason.
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This certainty of the postulated possibility then is not at all
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theoretic, and consequently not apodeictic; that is to say, it is
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not a known necessity as regards the object, but a necessary
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supposition as regards the subject, necessary for the obedience to its
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objective but practical laws. It is, therefore, merely a necessary
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hypothesis. I could find no better expression for this rational
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necessity, which is subjective, but yet true and unconditional.
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-
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In this manner, then, the a priori principles of two faculties of
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the mind, the faculty of cognition and that of desire, would be
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found and determined as to the conditions, extent, and limits of their
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use, and thus a sure foundation be paid for a scientific system of
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philosophy, both theoretic and practical.
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Nothing worse could happen to these labours than that anyone
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should make the unexpected discovery that there neither is, nor can
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be, any a priori knowledge at all. But there is no danger of this.
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This would be the same thing as if one sought to prove by reason
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that there is no reason. For we only say that we know something by
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reason, when we are conscious that we could have known it, even if
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it had not been given to us in experience; hence rational knowledge
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and knowledge a priori are one and the same. It is a clear
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contradiction to try to extract necessity from a principle of
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experience (ex pumice aquam), and to try by this to give a judgement
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true universality (without which there is no rational inference, not
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even inference from analogy, which is at least a presumed universality
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and objective necessity). To substitute subjective necessity, that is,
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custom, for objective, which exists only in a priori judgements, is to
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deny to reason the power of judging about the object, i.e., of knowing
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it, and what belongs to it. It implies, for example, that we must
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not say of something which often or always follows a certain
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antecedent state that we can conclude from this to that (for this
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would imply objective necessity and the notion of an a priori
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connexion), but only that we may expect similar cases (just as animals
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do), that is that we reject the notion of cause altogether as false
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and a mere delusion. As to attempting to remedy this want of objective
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and consequently universal validity by saying that we can see no
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||
ground for attributing any other sort of knowledge to other rational
|
||
beings, if this reasoning were valid, our ignorance would do more
|
||
for the enlargement of our knowledge than all our meditation. For,
|
||
then, on this very ground that we have no knowledge of any other
|
||
rational beings besides man, we should have a right to suppose them to
|
||
be of the same nature as we know ourselves to be: that is, we should
|
||
really know them. I omit to mention that universal assent does not
|
||
prove the objective validity of a judgement (i.e., its validity as a
|
||
cognition), and although this universal assent should accidentally
|
||
happen, it could furnish no proof of agreement with the object; on the
|
||
contrary, it is the objective validity which alone constitutes the
|
||
basis of a necessary universal consent.
|
||
{PREFACE ^paragraph 30}
|
||
Hume would be quite satisfied with this system of universal
|
||
empiricism, for, as is well known, he desired nothing more than
|
||
that, instead of ascribing any objective meaning to the necessity in
|
||
the concept of cause, a merely subjective one should be assumed, viz.,
|
||
custom, in order to deny that reason could judge about God, freedom,
|
||
and immortality; and if once his principles were granted, he was
|
||
certainly well able to deduce his conclusions therefrom, with all
|
||
logical coherence. But even Hume did not make his empiricism so
|
||
universal as to include mathematics. He holds the principles of
|
||
mathematics to be analytical; and if his were correct, they would
|
||
certainly be apodeictic also: but we could not infer from this that
|
||
reason has the faculty of forming apodeictic judgements in
|
||
philosophy also- that is to say, those which are synthetical
|
||
judgements, like the judgement of causality. But if we adopt a
|
||
universal empiricism, then mathematics will be included.
|
||
Now if this science is in contradiction with a reason that admits
|
||
only empirical principles, as it inevitably is in the antinomy in
|
||
which mathematics prove the infinite divisibility of space, which
|
||
empiricism cannot admit; then the greatest possible evidence of
|
||
demonstration is in manifest contradiction with the alleged
|
||
conclusions from experience, and we are driven to ask, like
|
||
Cheselden's blind patient, "Which deceives me, sight or touch?" (for
|
||
empiricism is based on a necessity felt, rationalism on a necessity
|
||
seen). And thus universal empiricism reveals itself as absolute
|
||
scepticism. It is erroneous to attribute this in such an unqualified
|
||
sense to Hume,* since he left at least one certain touchstone (which
|
||
can only be found in a priori principles), although experience
|
||
consists not only of feelings, but also of judgements.
|
||
-
|
||
*Names that designate the followers of a sect have always been
|
||
accompanied with much injustice; just as if one said, "N is an
|
||
Idealist." For although he not only admits, but even insists, that our
|
||
ideas of external things have actual objects of external things
|
||
corresponding to them, yet he holds that the form of the intuition
|
||
does not depend on them but on the human mind.
|
||
-
|
||
{PREFACE ^paragraph 35}
|
||
However, as in this philosophical and critical age such empiricism
|
||
can scarcely be serious, and it is probably put forward only as an
|
||
intellectual exercise and for the purpose of putting in a clearer
|
||
light, by contrast, the necessity of rational a priori principles,
|
||
we can only be grateful to those who employ themselves in this
|
||
otherwise uninstructive labour.
|
||
|
||
INTRODUCTION
|
||
INTRODUCTION.
|
||
-
|
||
Of the Idea of a Critique of Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
The theoretical use of reason was concerned with objects of the
|
||
cognitive faculty only, and a critical examination of it with
|
||
reference to this use applied properly only to the pure faculty of
|
||
cognition; because this raised the suspicion, which was afterwards
|
||
confirmed, that it might easily pass beyond its limits, and be lost
|
||
among unattainable objects, or even contradictory notions. It is quite
|
||
different with the practical use of reason. In this, reason is
|
||
concerned with the grounds of determination of the will, which is a
|
||
faculty either to produce objects corresponding to ideas, or to
|
||
determine ourselves to the effecting of such objects (whether the
|
||
physical power is sufficient or not); that is, to determine our
|
||
causality. For here, reason can at least attain so far as to determine
|
||
the will, and has always objective reality in so far as it is the
|
||
volition only that is in question. The first question here then is
|
||
whether pure reason of itself alone suffices to determine the will, or
|
||
whether it can be a ground of determination only as dependent on
|
||
empirical conditions. Now, here there comes in a notion of causality
|
||
justified by the critique of the pure reason, although not capable
|
||
of being presented empirically, viz., that of freedom; and if we can
|
||
now discover means of proving that this property does in fact belong
|
||
to the human will (and so to the will of all rational beings), then it
|
||
will not only be shown that pure reason can be practical, but that
|
||
it alone, and not reason empirically limited, is indubitably
|
||
practical; consequently, we shall have to make a critical examination,
|
||
not of pure practical reason, but only of practical reason
|
||
generally. For when once pure reason is shown to exist, it needs no
|
||
critical examination. For reason itself contains the standard for
|
||
the critical examination of every use of it. The critique, then, of
|
||
practical reason generally is bound to prevent the empirically
|
||
conditioned reason from claiming exclusively to furnish the ground
|
||
of determination of the will. If it is proved that there is a
|
||
[practical] reason, its employment is alone immanent; the
|
||
empirically conditioned use, which claims supremacy, is on the
|
||
contrary transcendent and expresses itself in demands and precepts
|
||
which go quite beyond its sphere. This is just the opposite of what
|
||
might be said of pure reason in its speculative employment.
|
||
However, as it is still pure reason, the knowledge of which is
|
||
here the foundation of its practical employment, the general outline
|
||
of the classification of a critique of practical reason must be
|
||
arranged in accordance with that of the speculative. We must, then,
|
||
have the Elements and the Methodology of it; and in the former an
|
||
Analytic as the rule of truth, and a Dialectic as the exposition and
|
||
dissolution of the illusion in the judgements of practical reason. But
|
||
the order in the subdivision of the Analytic will be the reverse of
|
||
that in the critique of the pure speculative reason. For, in the
|
||
present case, we shall commence with the principles and proceed to the
|
||
concepts, and only then, if possible, to the senses; whereas in the
|
||
case of the speculative reason we began with the senses and had to end
|
||
with the principles. The reason of this lies again in this: that now
|
||
we have to do with a will, and have to consider reason, not in its
|
||
relation to objects, but to this will and its causality. We must,
|
||
then, begin with the principles of a causality not empirically
|
||
conditioned, after which the attempt can be made to establish our
|
||
notions of the determining grounds of such a will, of their
|
||
application to objects, and finally to the subject and its sense
|
||
faculty. We necessarily begin with the law of causality from
|
||
freedom, that is, with a pure practical principle, and this determines
|
||
the objects to which alone it can be applied.
|
||
|
||
BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1
|
||
FIRST PART.
|
||
-
|
||
ELEMENTS OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
|
||
-
|
||
BOOK I. The Analytic of Pure Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
CHAPTER I. Of the Principles of Pure Practical Reason.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 5}
|
||
-
|
||
I. DEFINITION.
|
||
-
|
||
Practical principles are propositions which contain a general
|
||
determination of the will, having under it several practical rules.
|
||
They are subjective, or maxims, when the condition is regarded by
|
||
the subject as valid only for his own will, but are objective, or
|
||
practical laws, when the condition is recognized as objective, that
|
||
is, valid for the will of every rational being.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 10}
|
||
REMARK.
|
||
-
|
||
Supposing that pure reason contains in itself a practical motive,
|
||
that is, one adequate to determine the will, then there are
|
||
practical laws; otherwise all practical principles will be mere
|
||
maxims. In case the will of a rational being is pathologically
|
||
affected, there may occur a conflict of the maxims with the
|
||
practical laws recognized by itself. For example, one may make it
|
||
his maxim to let no injury pass unrevenged, and yet he may see that
|
||
this is not a practical law, but only his own maxim; that, on the
|
||
contrary, regarded as being in one and the same maxim a rule for the
|
||
will of every rational being, it must contradict itself. In natural
|
||
philosophy the principles of what happens, e.g., the principle of
|
||
equality of action and reaction in the communication of motion) are at
|
||
the same time laws of nature; for the use of reason there is
|
||
theoretical and determined by the nature of the object. In practical
|
||
philosophy, i.e., that which has to do only with the grounds of
|
||
determination of the will, the principles which a man makes for
|
||
himself are not laws by which one is inevitably bound; because
|
||
reason in practical matters has to do with the subject, namely, with
|
||
the faculty of desire, the special character of which may occasion
|
||
variety in the rule. The practical rule is always a product of reason,
|
||
because it prescribes action as a means to the effect. But in the case
|
||
of a being with whom reason does not of itself determine the will,
|
||
this rule is an imperative, i.e., a rule characterized by "shall,"
|
||
which expresses the objective necessitation of the action and
|
||
signifies that, if reason completely determined the will, the action
|
||
would inevitably take place according to this rule. Imperatives,
|
||
therefore, are objectively valid, and are quite distinct from
|
||
maxims, which are subjective principles. The former either determine
|
||
the conditions of the causality of the rational being as an
|
||
efficient cause, i.e., merely in reference to the effect and the means
|
||
of attaining it; or they determine the will only, whether it is
|
||
adequate to the effect or not. The former would be hypothetical
|
||
imperatives, and contain mere precepts of skill; the latter, on the
|
||
contrary, would be categorical, and would alone be practical laws.
|
||
Thus maxims are principles, but not imperatives. Imperatives
|
||
themselves, however, when they are conditional (i.e., do not determine
|
||
the will simply as will, but only in respect to a desired effect, that
|
||
is, when they are hypothetical imperatives), are practical precepts
|
||
but not laws. Laws must be sufficient to determine the will as will,
|
||
even before I ask whether I have power sufficient for a desired
|
||
effect, or the means necessary to produce it; hence they are
|
||
categorical: otherwise they are not laws at all, because the necessity
|
||
is wanting, which, if it is to be practical, must be independent of
|
||
conditions which are pathological and are therefore only
|
||
contingently connected with the will. Tell a man, for example, that he
|
||
must be industrious and thrifty in youth, in order that he may not
|
||
want in old age; this is a correct and important practical precept
|
||
of the will. But it is easy to see that in this case the will is
|
||
directed to something else which it is presupposed that it desires;
|
||
and as to this desire, we must leave it to the actor himself whether
|
||
he looks forward to other resources than those of his own acquisition,
|
||
or does not expect to be old, or thinks that in case of future
|
||
necessity he will be able to make shift with little. Reason, from
|
||
which alone can spring a rule involving necessity, does, indeed,
|
||
give necessity to this precept (else it would not be an imperative),
|
||
but this is a necessity dependent on subjective conditions, and cannot
|
||
be supposed in the same degree in all subjects. But that reason may
|
||
give laws it is necessary that it should only need to presuppose
|
||
itself, because rules are objectively and universally valid only
|
||
when they hold without any contingent subjective conditions, which
|
||
distinguish one rational being from another. Now tell a man that he
|
||
should never make a deceitful promise, this is a rule which only
|
||
concerns his will, whether the purposes he may have can be attained
|
||
thereby or not; it is the volition only which is to be determined a
|
||
priori by that rule. If now it is found that this rule is
|
||
practically right, then it is a law, because it is a categorical
|
||
imperative. Thus, practical laws refer to the will only, without
|
||
considering what is attained by its causality, and we may disregard
|
||
this latter (as belonging to the world of sense) in order to have them
|
||
quite pure.
|
||
-
|
||
II. THEOREM I.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 15}
|
||
-
|
||
All practical principles which presuppose an object (matter) of
|
||
the faculty of desire as the ground of determination of the will are
|
||
empirical and can furnish no practical laws.
|
||
By the matter of the faculty of desire I mean an object the
|
||
realization of which is desired. Now, if the desire for this object
|
||
precedes the practical rule and is the condition of our making it a
|
||
principle, then I say (in the first place) this principle is in that
|
||
case wholly empirical, for then what determines the choice is the idea
|
||
of an object and that relation of this idea to the subject by which
|
||
its faculty of desire is determined to its realization. Such a
|
||
relation to the subject is called the pleasure in the realization of
|
||
an object. This, then, must be presupposed as a condition of the
|
||
possibility of determination of the will. But it is impossible to know
|
||
a priori of any idea of an object whether it will be connected with
|
||
pleasure or pain, or be indifferent. In such cases, therefore, the
|
||
determining principle of the choice must be empirical and,
|
||
therefore, also the practical material principle which presupposes
|
||
it as a condition.
|
||
In the second place, since susceptibility to a pleasure or pain
|
||
can be known only empirically and cannot hold in the same degree for
|
||
all rational beings, a principle which is based on this subjective
|
||
condition may serve indeed as a maxim for the subject which
|
||
possesses this susceptibility, but not as a law even to him (because
|
||
it is wanting in objective necessity, which must be recognized a
|
||
priori); it follows, therefore, that such a principle can never
|
||
furnish a practical law.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 20}
|
||
III. THEOREM II.
|
||
-
|
||
All material practical principles as such are of one and the same
|
||
kind and come under the general principle of self-love or private
|
||
happiness.
|
||
Pleasure arising from the idea of the idea of the existence of a
|
||
thing, in so far as it is to determine the desire of this thing, is
|
||
founded on the susceptibility of the subject, since it depends on
|
||
the presence of an object; hence it belongs to sense (feeling), and
|
||
not to understanding, which expresses a relation of the idea to an
|
||
object according to concepts, not to the subject according to
|
||
feelings. It is, then, practical only in so far as the faculty of
|
||
desire is determined by the sensation of agreeableness which the
|
||
subject expects from the actual existence of the object. Now, a
|
||
rational being's consciousness of the pleasantness of life
|
||
uninterruptedly accompanying his whole existence is happiness; and the
|
||
principle which makes this the supreme ground of determination of
|
||
the will is the principle of self-love. All material principles, then,
|
||
which place the determining ground of the will in the pleasure or pain
|
||
to be received from the existence of any object are all of the same
|
||
kind, inasmuch as they all belong to the principle of self-love or
|
||
private happiness.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 25}
|
||
COROLLARY.
|
||
-
|
||
All material practical rules place the determining principle of
|
||
the will in the lower desires; and if there were no purely formal laws
|
||
of the will adequate to determine it, then we could not admit any
|
||
higher desire at all.
|
||
-
|
||
REMARK I.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 30}
|
||
-
|
||
It is surprising that men, otherwise acute, can think it possible to
|
||
distinguish between higher and lower desires, according as the ideas
|
||
which are connected with the feeling of pleasure have their origin
|
||
in the senses or in the understanding; for when we inquire what are
|
||
the determining grounds of desire, and place them in some expected
|
||
pleasantness, it is of no consequence whence the idea of this pleasing
|
||
object is derived, but only how much it pleases. Whether an idea has
|
||
its seat and source in the understanding or not, if it can only
|
||
determine the choice by presupposing a feeling of pleasure in the
|
||
subject, it follows that its capability of determining the choice
|
||
depends altogether on the nature of the inner sense, namely, that this
|
||
can be agreeably affected by it. However dissimilar ideas of objects
|
||
may be, though they be ideas of the understanding, or even of the
|
||
reason in contrast to ideas of sense, yet the feeling of pleasure,
|
||
by means of which they constitute the determining principle of the
|
||
will (the expected satisfaction which impels the activity to the
|
||
production of the object), is of one and the same kind, not only
|
||
inasmuch as it can only be known empirically, but also inasmuch as
|
||
it affects one and the same vital force which manifests itself in
|
||
the faculty of desire, and in this respect can only differ in degree
|
||
from every other ground of determination. Otherwise, how could we
|
||
compare in respect of magnitude two principles of determination, the
|
||
ideas of which depend upon different faculties, so as to prefer that
|
||
which affects the faculty of desire in the highest degree. The same
|
||
man may return unread an instructive book which he cannot again
|
||
obtain, in order not to miss a hunt; he may depart in the midst of a
|
||
fine speech, in order not to be late for dinner; he may leave a
|
||
rational conversation, such as he otherwise values highly, to take his
|
||
place at the gaming-table; he may even repulse a poor man whom he at
|
||
other times takes pleasure in benefiting, because he has only just
|
||
enough money in his pocket to pay for his admission to the theatre. If
|
||
the determination of his will rests on the feeling of the
|
||
agreeableness or disagreeableness that he expects from any cause, it
|
||
is all the same to him by what sort of ideas he will be affected.
|
||
The only thing that concerns him, in order to decide his choice, is,
|
||
how great, how long continued, how easily obtained, and how often
|
||
repeated, this agreeableness is. just as to the man who wants money to
|
||
spend, it is all the same whether the gold was dug out of the mountain
|
||
or washed out of the sand, provided it is everywhere accepted at the
|
||
same value; so the man who cares only for the enjoyment of life does
|
||
not ask whether the ideas are of the understanding or the senses,
|
||
but only how much and how great pleasure they will give for the
|
||
longest time. It is only those that would gladly deny to pure reason
|
||
the power of determining the will, without the presupposition of any
|
||
feeling, who could deviate so far from their own exposition as to
|
||
describe as quite heterogeneous what they have themselves previously
|
||
brought under one and the same principle. Thus, for example, it is
|
||
observed that we can find pleasure in the mere exercise of power, in
|
||
the consciousness of our strength of mind in overcoming obstacles
|
||
which are opposed to our designs, in the culture of our mental
|
||
talents, etc.; and we justly call these more refined pleasures and
|
||
enjoyments, because they are more in our power than others; they do
|
||
not wear out, but rather increase the capacity for further enjoyment
|
||
of them, and while they delight they at the same time cultivate. But
|
||
to say on this account that they determine the will in a different way
|
||
and not through sense, whereas the possibility of the pleasure
|
||
presupposes a feeling for it implanted in us, which is the first
|
||
condition of this satisfaction; this is just as when ignorant
|
||
persons that like to dabble in metaphysics imagine matter so subtle,
|
||
so supersubtle that they almost make themselves giddy with it, and
|
||
then think that in this way they have conceived it as a spiritual
|
||
and yet extended being. If with Epicurus we make virtue determine
|
||
the will only by means of the pleasure it promises, we cannot
|
||
afterwards blame him for holding that this pleasure is of the same
|
||
kind as those of the coarsest senses. For we have no reason whatever
|
||
to charge him with holding that the ideas by which this feeling is
|
||
excited in us belong merely to the bodily senses. As far as can be
|
||
conjectured, he sought the source of many of them in the use of the
|
||
higher cognitive faculty, but this did not prevent him, and could
|
||
not prevent him, from holding on the principle above stated, that
|
||
the pleasure itself which those intellectual ideas give us, and by
|
||
which alone they can determine the will, is just of the same kind.
|
||
Consistency is the highest obligation of a philosopher, and yet the
|
||
most rarely found. The ancient Greek schools give us more examples
|
||
of it than we find in our syncretistic age, in which a certain shallow
|
||
and dishonest system of compromise of contradictory principles is
|
||
devised, because it commends itself better to a public which is
|
||
content to know something of everything and nothing thoroughly, so
|
||
as to please every party.
|
||
The principle of private happiness, however much understanding and
|
||
reason may be used in it, cannot contain any other determining
|
||
principles for the will than those which belong to the lower
|
||
desires; and either there are no [higher] desires at all, or pure
|
||
reason must of itself alone be practical; that is, it must be able
|
||
to determine the will by the mere form of the practical rule without
|
||
supposing any feeling, and consequently without any idea of the
|
||
pleasant or unpleasant, which is the matter of the desire, and which
|
||
is always an empirical condition of the principles. Then only, when
|
||
reason of itself determines the will (not as the servant of the
|
||
inclination), it is really a higher desire to which that which is
|
||
pathologically determined is subordinate, and is really, and even
|
||
specifically, distinct from the latter, so that even the slightest
|
||
admixture of the motives of the latter impairs its strength and
|
||
superiority; just as in a mathematical demonstration the least
|
||
empirical condition would degrade and destroy its force and value.
|
||
Reason, with its practical law, determines the will immediately, not
|
||
by means of an intervening feeling of pleasure or pain, not even of
|
||
pleasure in the law itself, and it is only because it can, as pure
|
||
reason, be practical, that it is possible for it to be legislative.
|
||
-
|
||
REMARK II.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 35}
|
||
-
|
||
To be happy is necessarily the wish of every finite rational
|
||
being, and this, therefore, is inevitably a determining principle of
|
||
its faculty of desire. For we are not in possession originally of
|
||
satisfaction with our whole existence- a bliss which would imply a
|
||
consciousness of our own independent self-sufficiency this is a
|
||
problem imposed upon us by our own finite nature, because we have
|
||
wants and these wants regard the matter of our desires, that is,
|
||
something that is relative to a subjective feeling of pleasure or
|
||
pain, which determines what we need in order to be satisfied with
|
||
our condition. But just because this material principle of
|
||
determination can only be empirically known by the subject, it is
|
||
impossible to regard this problem as a law; for a law being
|
||
objective must contain the very same principle of determination of the
|
||
will in all cases and for all rational beings. For, although the
|
||
notion of happiness is in every case the foundation of practical
|
||
relation of the objects to the desires, yet it is only a general
|
||
name for the subjective determining principles, and determines nothing
|
||
specifically; whereas this is what alone we are concerned with in this
|
||
practical problem, which cannot be solved at all without such specific
|
||
determination. For it is every man's own special feeling of pleasure
|
||
and pain that decides in what he is to place his happiness, and even
|
||
in the same subject this will vary with the difference of his wants
|
||
according as this feeling changes, and thus a law which is
|
||
subjectively necessary (as a law of nature) is objectively a very
|
||
contingent practical principle, which can and must be very different
|
||
in different subjects and therefore can never furnish a law; since, in
|
||
the desire for happiness it is not the form (of conformity to law)
|
||
that is decisive, but simply the matter, namely, whether I am to
|
||
expect pleasure in following the law, and how much. Principles of
|
||
self-love may, indeed, contain universal precepts of skill (how to
|
||
find means to accomplish one's purpose), but in that case they are
|
||
merely theoretical principles;* as, for example, how he who would like
|
||
to eat bread should contrive a mill; but practical precepts founded on
|
||
them can never be universal, for the determining principle of the
|
||
desire is based on the feeling pleasure and pain, which can never be
|
||
supposed to be universally directed to the same objects.
|
||
-
|
||
*Propositions which in mathematics or physics are called practical
|
||
ought properly to be called technical. For they For they have
|
||
nothing to do with the determination of the theoretical they only
|
||
point out how the certain must is to be produced and are, therefore,
|
||
just as theoretical as any propositions which express the connection
|
||
of a cause with an effect. Now whoever chooses the effect must also
|
||
choose the cause.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 40}
|
||
Even supposing, however, that all finite rational beings were
|
||
thoroughly agreed as to what were the objects of their feelings of
|
||
pleasure and pain, and also as to the means which they must employ
|
||
to attain the one and avoid the other; still, they could by no means
|
||
set up the principle of self-love as a practical law, for this
|
||
unanimity itself would be only contingent. The principle of
|
||
determination would still be only subjectively valid and merely
|
||
empirical, and would not possess the necessity which is conceived in
|
||
every law, namely, an objective necessity arising from a priori
|
||
grounds; unless, indeed, we hold this necessity to be not at all
|
||
practical, but merely physical, viz., that our action is as inevitably
|
||
determined by our inclination, as yawning when we see others yawn.
|
||
It would be better to maintain that there are no practical laws at
|
||
all, but only counsels for the service of our desires, than to raise
|
||
merely subjective principles to the rank of practical laws, which have
|
||
objective necessity, and not merely subjective, and which must be
|
||
known by reason a priori, not by experience (however empirically
|
||
universal this may be). Even the rules of corresponding phenomena
|
||
are only called laws of nature (e.g., the mechanical laws), when we
|
||
either know them really a priori, or (as in the case of chemical laws)
|
||
suppose that they would be known a priori from objective grounds if
|
||
our insight reached further. But in the case of merely subjective
|
||
practical principles, it is expressly made a condition that they rest,
|
||
not on objective, but on subjective conditions of choice, and hence
|
||
that they must always be represented as mere maxims, never as
|
||
practical laws. This second remark seems at first sight to be mere
|
||
verbal refinement, but it defines the terms of the most important
|
||
distinction which can come into consideration in practical
|
||
investigations.
|
||
-
|
||
IV. THEOREM II.
|
||
-
|
||
A rational being cannot regard his maxims as practical universal
|
||
laws, unless he conceives them as principles which determine the will,
|
||
not by their matter, but by their form only.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 45}
|
||
By the matter of a practical principle I mean the object of the
|
||
will. This object is either the determining ground of the will or it
|
||
is not. In the former case the rule of the will is subjected to an
|
||
empirical condition (viz., the relation of the determining idea to the
|
||
feeling of pleasure and pain), consequently it can not be a
|
||
practical law. Now, when we abstract from a law all matter, i.e.,
|
||
every object of the will (as a determining principle), nothing is left
|
||
but the mere form of a universal legislation. Therefore, either a
|
||
rational being cannot conceive his subjective practical principles,
|
||
that is, his maxims, as being at the same time universal laws, or he
|
||
must suppose that their mere form, by which they are fitted for
|
||
universal legislation, is alone what makes them practical laws.
|
||
-
|
||
REMARK.
|
||
-
|
||
The commonest understanding can distinguish without instruction what
|
||
form of maxim is adapted for universal legislation, and what is not.
|
||
Suppose, for example, that I have made it my maxim to increase my
|
||
fortune by every safe means. Now, I have a deposit in my hands, the
|
||
owner of which is dead and has left no writing about it. This is
|
||
just the case for my maxim. I desire then to know whether that maxim
|
||
can also bold good as a universal practical law. I apply it,
|
||
therefore, to the present case, and ask whether it could take the form
|
||
of a law, and consequently whether I can by my maxim at the same
|
||
time give such a law as this, that everyone may deny a deposit of
|
||
which no one can produce a proof. I at once become aware that such a
|
||
principle, viewed as a law, would annihilate itself, because the
|
||
result would be that there would be no deposits. A practical law which
|
||
I recognise as such must be qualified for universal legislation;
|
||
this is an identical proposition and, therefore, self-evident. Now, if
|
||
I say that my will is subject to a practical law, I cannot adduce my
|
||
inclination (e.g., in the present case my avarice) as a principle of
|
||
determination fitted to be a universal practical law; for this is so
|
||
far from being fitted for a universal legislation that, if put in
|
||
the form of a universal law, it would destroy itself.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 50}
|
||
It is, therefore, surprising that intelligent men could have thought
|
||
of calling the desire of happiness a universal practical law on the
|
||
ground that the desire is universal, and, therefore, also the maxim by
|
||
which everyone makes this desire determine his will. For whereas in
|
||
other cases a universal law of nature makes everything harmonious;
|
||
here, on the contrary, if we attribute to the maxim the universality
|
||
of a law, the extreme opposite of harmony will follow, the greatest
|
||
opposition and the complete destruction of the maxim itself and its
|
||
purpose. For, in that case, the will of all has not one and the same
|
||
object, but everyone has his own (his private welfare), which may
|
||
accidentally accord with the purposes of others which are equally
|
||
selfish, but it is far from sufficing for a law; because the
|
||
occasional exceptions which one is permitted to make are endless,
|
||
and cannot be definitely embraced in one universal rule. In this
|
||
manner, then, results a harmony like that which a certain satirical
|
||
poem depicts as existing between a married couple bent on going to
|
||
ruin, "O, marvellous harmony, what he wishes, she wishes also"; or
|
||
like what is said of the pledge of Francis I to the Emperor Charles V,
|
||
"What my brother Charles wishes that I wish also" (viz., Milan).
|
||
Empirical principles of determination are not fit for any universal
|
||
external legislation, but just as little for internal; for each man
|
||
makes his own subject the foundation of his inclination, and in the
|
||
same subject sometimes one inclination, sometimes another, has the
|
||
preponderance. To discover a law which would govern them all under
|
||
this condition, namely, bringing them all into harmony, is quite
|
||
impossible.
|
||
-
|
||
V. PROBLEM I.
|
||
-
|
||
Supposing that the mere legislative form of maxims is alone the
|
||
sufficient determining principle of a will, to find the nature of
|
||
the will which can be determined by it alone.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 55}
|
||
Since the bare form of the law can only be conceived by reason, and
|
||
is, therefore, not an object of the senses, and consequently does
|
||
not belong to the class of phenomena, it follows that the idea of
|
||
it, which determines the will, is distinct from all the principles
|
||
that determine events in nature according to the law of causality,
|
||
because in their case the determining principles must themselves be
|
||
phenomena. Now, if no other determining principle can serve as a law
|
||
for the will except that universal legislative form, such a will
|
||
must be conceived as quite independent of the natural law of phenomena
|
||
in their mutual relation, namely, the law of causality; such
|
||
independence is called freedom in the strictest, that is, in the
|
||
transcendental, sense; consequently, a will which can have its law
|
||
in nothing but the mere legislative form of the maxim is a free will.
|
||
-
|
||
VI. PROBLEM II.
|
||
-
|
||
Supposing that a will is free, to find the law which alone is
|
||
competent to determine it necessarily.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 60}
|
||
Since the matter of the practical law, i.e., an object of the maxim,
|
||
can never be given otherwise than empirically, and the free will is
|
||
independent on empirical conditions (that is, conditions belonging
|
||
to the world of sense) and yet is determinable, consequently a free
|
||
will must find its principle of determination in the law, and yet
|
||
independently of the matter of the law. But, besides the matter of the
|
||
law, nothing is contained in it except the legislative form. It is the
|
||
legislative form, then, contained in the maxim, which can alone
|
||
constitute a principle of determination of the [free] will.
|
||
-
|
||
REMARK.
|
||
-
|
||
Thus freedom and an unconditional practical law reciprocally imply
|
||
each other. Now I do not ask here whether they are in fact distinct,
|
||
or whether an unconditioned law is not rather merely the consciousness
|
||
of a pure practical reason and the latter identical with the
|
||
positive concept of freedom; I only ask, whence begins our knowledge
|
||
of the unconditionally practical, whether it is from freedom or from
|
||
the practical law? Now it cannot begin from freedom, for of this we
|
||
cannot be immediately conscious, since the first concept of it is
|
||
negative; nor can we infer it from experience, for experience gives us
|
||
the knowledge only of the law of phenomena, and hence of the mechanism
|
||
of nature, the direct opposite of freedom. It is therefore the moral
|
||
law, of which we become directly conscious (as soon as we trace for
|
||
ourselves maxims of the will), that first presents itself to us, and
|
||
leads directly to the concept of freedom, inasmuch as reason
|
||
presents it as a principle of determination not to be outweighed by
|
||
any sensible conditions, nay, wholly independent of them. But how is
|
||
the consciousness, of that moral law possible? We can become conscious
|
||
of pure practical laws just as we are conscious of pure theoretical
|
||
principles, by attending to the necessity with which reason prescribes
|
||
them and to the elimination of all empirical conditions, which it
|
||
directs. The concept of a pure will arises out of the former, as
|
||
that of a pure understanding arises out of the latter. That this is
|
||
the true subordination of our concepts, and that it is morality that
|
||
first discovers to us the notion of freedom, hence that it is
|
||
practical reason which, with this concept, first proposes to
|
||
speculative reason the most insoluble problem, thereby placing it in
|
||
the greatest perplexity, is evident from the following
|
||
consideration: Since nothing in phenomena can be explained by the
|
||
concept of freedom, but the mechanism of nature must constitute the
|
||
only clue; moreover, when pure reason tries to ascend in the series of
|
||
causes to the unconditioned, it falls into an antinomy which is
|
||
entangled in incomprehensibilities on the one side as much as the
|
||
other; whilst the latter (namely, mechanism) is at least useful in the
|
||
explanation of phenomena, therefore no one would ever have been so
|
||
rash as to introduce freedom into science, had not the moral law,
|
||
and with it practical reason, come in and forced this notion upon
|
||
us. Experience, however, confirms this order of notions. Suppose
|
||
some one asserts of his lustful appetite that, when the desired object
|
||
and the opportunity are present, it is quite irresistible. [Ask
|
||
him]- if a gallows were erected before the house where he finds this
|
||
opportunity, in order that he should be hanged thereon immediately
|
||
after the gratification of his lust, whether he could not then control
|
||
his passion; we need not be long in doubt what he would reply. Ask
|
||
him, however- if his sovereign ordered him, on pain of the same
|
||
immediate execution, to bear false witness against an honourable
|
||
man, whom the prince might wish to destroy under a plausible
|
||
pretext, would he consider it possible in that case to overcome his
|
||
love of life, however great it may be. He would perhaps not venture to
|
||
affirm whether he would do so or not, but he must unhesitatingly admit
|
||
that it is possible to do so. He judges, therefore, that he can do a
|
||
certain thing because he is conscious that he ought, and he recognizes
|
||
that he is free- a fact which but for the moral law he would never
|
||
have known.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 65}
|
||
-
|
||
VII. FUNDAMENTAL LAW OF THE PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
|
||
-
|
||
Act so that the maxim of thy will can always at the same time hold
|
||
good as a principle of universal legislation.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 70}
|
||
REMARK.
|
||
-
|
||
Pure geometry has postulates which are practical propositions, but
|
||
contain nothing further than the assumption that we can do something
|
||
if it is required that we should do it, and these are the only
|
||
geometrical propositions that concern actual existence. They are,
|
||
then, practical rules under a problematical condition of the will; but
|
||
here the rule says: We absolutely must proceed in a certain manner.
|
||
The practical rule is, therefore, unconditional, and hence it is
|
||
conceived a priori as a categorically practical proposition by which
|
||
the will is objectively determined absolutely and immediately (by
|
||
the practical rule itself, which thus is in this case a law); for pure
|
||
reason practical of itself is here directly legislative. The will is
|
||
thought as independent on empirical conditions, and, therefore, as
|
||
pure will determined by the mere form of the law, and this principle
|
||
of determination is regarded as the supreme condition of all maxims.
|
||
The thing is strange enough, and has no parallel in all the rest of
|
||
our practical knowledge. For the a priori thought of a possible
|
||
universal legislation which is therefore merely problematical, is
|
||
unconditionally commanded as a law without borrowing anything from
|
||
experience or from any external will. This, however, is not a
|
||
precept to do something by which some desired effect can be attained
|
||
(for then the will would depend on physical conditions), but a rule
|
||
that determines the will a priori only so far as regards the forms
|
||
of its maxims; and thus it is at least not impossible to conceive that
|
||
a law, which only applies to the subjective form of principles, yet
|
||
serves as a principle of determination by means of the objective
|
||
form of law in general. We may call the consciousness of this
|
||
fundamental law a fact of reason, because we cannot reason it out from
|
||
antecedent data of reason, e.g., the consciousness of freedom (for
|
||
this is not antecedently given), but it forces itself on us as a
|
||
synthetic a priori proposition, which is not based on any intuition,
|
||
either pure or empirical. It would, indeed, be analytical if the
|
||
freedom of the will were presupposed, but to presuppose freedom as a
|
||
positive concept would require an intellectual intuition, which cannot
|
||
here be assumed; however, when we regard this law as given, it must be
|
||
observed, in order not to fall into any misconception, that it is
|
||
not an empirical fact, but the sole fact of the pure reason, which
|
||
thereby announces itself as originally legislative (sic volo, sic
|
||
jubeo).
|
||
-
|
||
COROLLARY.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 75}
|
||
-
|
||
Pure reason is practical of itself alone and gives (to man) a
|
||
universal law which we call the moral law.
|
||
-
|
||
REMARK.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 80}
|
||
The fact just mentioned is undeniable. It is only necessary to
|
||
analyse the judgement that men pass on the lawfulness of their
|
||
actions, in order to find that, whatever inclination may say to the
|
||
contrary, reason, incorruptible and selfconstrained, always
|
||
confronts the maxim of the will in any action with the pure will, that
|
||
is, with itself, considering itself as a priori practical. Now this
|
||
principle of morality, just on account of the universality of the
|
||
legislation which makes it the formal supreme determining principle of
|
||
the will, without regard to any subjective differentes, is declared by
|
||
the reason to be a law for all rational beings, in so far as they have
|
||
a will, that is, a power to determine their causality by the
|
||
conception of rules; and, therefore, so far as they are capable of
|
||
acting according to principles, and consequently also according to
|
||
practical a priori principles (for these alone have the necessity that
|
||
reason requires in a principle). It is, therefore, not limited to
|
||
men only, but applies to all finite beings that possess reason and
|
||
will; nay, it even includes the Infinite Being as the supreme
|
||
intelligence. In the former case, however, the law has the form of
|
||
an imperative, because in them, as rational beings, we can suppose a
|
||
pure will, but being creatures affected with wants and physical
|
||
motives, not a holy will, that is, one which would be incapable of any
|
||
maxim conflicting with the moral law. In their case, therefore, the
|
||
moral law is an imperative, which commands categorically, because
|
||
the law is unconditioned; the relation of such a will to this law is
|
||
dependence under the name of obligation, which implies a constraint to
|
||
an action, though only by reason and its objective law; and this
|
||
action is called duty, because an elective will, subject to
|
||
pathological affections (though not determined by them, and,
|
||
therefore, still free), implies a wish that arises from subjective
|
||
causes and, therefore, may often be opposed to the pure objective
|
||
determining principle; whence it requires the moral constraint of a
|
||
resistance of the practical reason, which may be called an internal,
|
||
but intellectual, compulsion. In the supreme intelligence the elective
|
||
will is rightly conceived as incapable of any maxim which could not at
|
||
the same time be objectively a law; and the notion of holiness,
|
||
which on that account belongs to it, places it, not indeed above all
|
||
practical laws, but above all practically restrictive laws, and
|
||
consequently above obligation and duty. This holiness of will is,
|
||
however, a practical idea, which must necessarily serve as a type to
|
||
which finite rational beings can only approximate indefinitely, and
|
||
which the pure moral law, which is itself on this account called holy,
|
||
constantly and rightly holds before their eyes. The utmost that finite
|
||
practical reason can effect is to be certain of this indefinite
|
||
progress of one's maxims and of their steady disposition to advance.
|
||
This is virtue, and virtue, at least as a naturally acquired
|
||
faculty, can never be perfect, because assurance in such a case
|
||
never becomes apodeictic certainty and, when it only amounts to
|
||
persuasion, is very dangerous.
|
||
-
|
||
VIII. THEOREM IV.
|
||
-
|
||
The autonomy of the will is the sole principle of all moral laws and
|
||
of all duties which conform to them; on the other hand, heteronomy
|
||
of the elective will not only cannot be the basis of any obligation,
|
||
but is, on the contrary, opposed to the principle thereof and to the
|
||
morality of the will.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 85}
|
||
In fact the sole principle of morality consists in the
|
||
independence on all matter of the law (namely, a desired object),
|
||
and in the determination of the elective will by the mere universal
|
||
legislative form of which its maxim must be capable. Now this
|
||
independence is freedom in the negative sense, and this
|
||
self-legislation of the pure, and therefore practical, reason is
|
||
freedom in the positive sense. Thus the moral law expresses nothing
|
||
else than the autonomy of the pure practical reason; that is, freedom;
|
||
and this is itself the formal condition of all maxims, and on this
|
||
condition only can they agree with the supreme practical law. If
|
||
therefore the matter of the volition, which can be nothing else than
|
||
the object of a desire that is connected with the law, enters into the
|
||
practical law, as the condition of its possibility, there results
|
||
heteronomy of the elective will, namely, dependence on the physical
|
||
law that we should follow some impulse or inclination. In that case
|
||
the will does not give itself the law, but only the precept how
|
||
rationally to follow pathological law; and the maxim which, in such
|
||
a case, never contains the universally legislative form, not only
|
||
produces no obligation, but is itself opposed to the principle of a
|
||
pure practical reason and, therefore, also to the moral disposition,
|
||
even though the resulting action may be conformable to the law.
|
||
-
|
||
REMARK.
|
||
-
|
||
Hence a practical precept, which contains a material (and
|
||
therefore empirical) condition, must never be reckoned a practical
|
||
law. For the law of the pure will, which is free, brings the will into
|
||
a sphere quite different from the empirical; and as the necessity
|
||
involved in the law is not a physical necessity, it can only consist
|
||
in the formal conditions of the possibility of a law in general. All
|
||
the matter of practical rules rests on subjective conditions, which
|
||
give them only a conditional universality (in case I desire this or
|
||
that, what I must do in order to obtain it), and they all turn on
|
||
the principle of private happiness. Now, it is indeed undeniable
|
||
that every volition must have an object, and therefore a matter; but
|
||
it does not follow that this is the determining principle and the
|
||
condition of the maxim; for, if it is so, then this cannot be
|
||
exhibited in a universally legislative form, since in that case the
|
||
expectation of the existence of the object would be the determining
|
||
cause of the choice, and the volition must presuppose the dependence
|
||
of the faculty of desire on the existence of something; but this
|
||
dependence can only be sought in empirical conditions and,
|
||
therefore, can never furnish a foundation for a necessary and
|
||
universal rule. Thus, the happiness of others may be the object of the
|
||
will of a rational being. But if it were the determining principle
|
||
of the maxim, we must assume that we find not only a rational
|
||
satisfaction in the welfare of others, but also a want such as the
|
||
sympathetic disposition in some men occasions. But I cannot assume the
|
||
existence of this want in every rational being (not at all in God).
|
||
The matter, then, of the maxim may remain, but it must not be the
|
||
condition of it, else the maxim could not be fit for a law. Hence, the
|
||
mere form of law, which limits the matter, must also be a reason for
|
||
adding this matter to the will, not for presupposing it. For
|
||
example, let the matter be my own happiness. This (rule), if I
|
||
attribute it to everyone (as, in fact, I may, in the case of every
|
||
finite being), can become an objective practical law only if I include
|
||
the happiness of others. Therefore, the law that we should promote the
|
||
happiness of others does not arise from the assumption that this is an
|
||
object of everyone's choice, but merely from this, that the form of
|
||
universality which reason requires as the condition of giving to a
|
||
maxim of self-love the objective validity of a law is the principle
|
||
that determines the will. Therefore it was not the object (the
|
||
happiness of others) that determined the pure will, but it was the
|
||
form of law only, by which I restricted my maxim, founded on
|
||
inclination, so as to give it the universality of a law, and thus to
|
||
adapt it to the practical reason; and it is this restriction alone,
|
||
and not the addition of an external spring, that can give rise to
|
||
the notion of the obligation to extend the maxim of my self-love to
|
||
the happiness of others.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 90}
|
||
-
|
||
REMARK II.
|
||
-
|
||
The direct opposite of the principle of morality is, when the
|
||
principle of private happiness is made the determining principle of
|
||
the will, and with this is to be reckoned, as I have shown above,
|
||
everything that places the determining principle which is to serve
|
||
as a law, anywhere but in the legislative form of the maxim. This
|
||
contradiction, however, is not merely logical, like that which would
|
||
arise between rules empirically conditioned, if they were raised to
|
||
the rank of necessary principles of cognition, but is practical, and
|
||
would ruin morality altogether were not the voice of reason in
|
||
reference to the will so clear, so irrepressible, so distinctly
|
||
audible, even to the commonest men. It can only, indeed, be maintained
|
||
in the perplexing speculations of the schools, which are bold enough
|
||
to shut their ears against that heavenly voice, in order to support
|
||
a theory that costs no trouble.
|
||
Suppose that an acquaintance whom you otherwise liked were to
|
||
attempt to justify himself to you for having borne false witness,
|
||
first by alleging the, in his view, sacred duty of consulting his
|
||
own happiness; then by enumerating the advantages which he had
|
||
gained thereby, pointing out the prudence he had shown in securing
|
||
himself against detection, even by yourself, to whom he now reveals
|
||
the secret, only in order that he may be able to deny it at any
|
||
time; and suppose he were then to affirm, in all seriousness, that
|
||
he has fulfilled a true human duty; you would either laugh in his
|
||
face, or shrink back from him with disgust; and yet, if a man has
|
||
regulated his principles of action solely with a view to his own
|
||
advantage, you would have nothing whatever to object against this mode
|
||
of proceeding. Or suppose some one recommends you a man as steward, as
|
||
a man to whom you can blindly trust all your affairs; and, in order to
|
||
inspire you with confidence, extols him as a prudent man who
|
||
thoroughly understands his own interest, and is so indefatigably
|
||
active that he lets slip no opportunity of advancing it; lastly,
|
||
lest you should be afraid of finding a vulgar selfishness in him,
|
||
praises the good taste with which he lives; not seeking his pleasure
|
||
in money-making, or in coarse wantonness, but in the enlargement of
|
||
his knowledge, in instructive intercourse with a select circle, and
|
||
even in relieving the needy; while as to the means (which, of
|
||
course, derive all their value from the end), he is not particular,
|
||
and is ready to use other people's money for the purpose as if it were
|
||
his own, provided only he knows that he can do so safely, and
|
||
without discovery; you would either believe that the recommender was
|
||
mocking you, or that he had lost his senses. So sharply and clearly
|
||
marked are the boundaries of morality and self-love that even the
|
||
commonest eye cannot fail to distinguish whether a thing belongs to
|
||
the one or the other. The few remarks that follow may appear
|
||
superfluous where the truth is so plain, but at least they may serve
|
||
to give a little more distinctness to the judgement of common sense.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 95}
|
||
The principle of happiness may, indeed, furnish maxims, but never
|
||
such as would be competent to be laws of the will, even if universal
|
||
happiness were made the object. For since the knowledge of this
|
||
rests on mere empirical data, since every man's judgement on it
|
||
depends very much on his particular point of view, which is itself
|
||
moreover very variable, it can supply only general rules, not
|
||
universal; that is, it can give rules which on the average will most
|
||
frequently fit, but not rules which must hold good always and
|
||
necessarily; hence, no practical laws can be founded on it. Just
|
||
because in this case an object of choice is the foundation of the rule
|
||
and must therefore precede it, the rule can refer to nothing but
|
||
what is [felt], and therefore it refers to experience and is founded
|
||
on it, and then the variety of judgement must be endless. This
|
||
principle, therefore, does not prescribe the same practical rules to
|
||
all rational beings, although the rules are all included under a
|
||
common title, namely, that of happiness. The moral law, however, is
|
||
conceived as objectively necessary, only because it holds for everyone
|
||
that has reason and will.
|
||
The maxim of self-love (prudence) only advises; the law of
|
||
morality commands. Now there is a great difference between that
|
||
which we are advised to do and that to which we are obliged.
|
||
The commonest intelligence can easily and without hesitation see
|
||
what, on the principle of autonomy of the will, requires to be done;
|
||
but on supposition of heteronomy of the will, it is hard and
|
||
requires knowledge of the world to see what is to be done. That is
|
||
to say, what duty is, is plain of itself to everyone; but what is to
|
||
bring true durable advantage, such as will extend to the whole of
|
||
one's existence, is always veiled in impenetrable obscurity; and
|
||
much prudence is required to adapt the practical rule founded on it to
|
||
the ends of life, even tolerably, by making proper exceptions. But the
|
||
moral law commands the most punctual obedience from everyone; it must,
|
||
therefore, not be so difficult to judge what it requires to be done,
|
||
that the commonest unpractised understanding, even without worldly
|
||
prudence, should fail to apply it rightly.
|
||
It is always in everyone's power to satisfy the categorical
|
||
command of morality; whereas it is seldom possible, and by no means so
|
||
to everyone, to satisfy the empirically conditioned precept of
|
||
happiness, even with regard to a single purpose. The reason is that in
|
||
the former case there is question only of the maxim, which must be
|
||
genuine and pure; but in the latter case there is question also of
|
||
one's capacity and physical power to realize a desired object. A
|
||
command that everyone should try to make himself happy would be
|
||
foolish, for one never commands anyone to do what he of himself
|
||
infallibly wishes to do. We must only command the means, or rather
|
||
supply them, since he cannot do everything that he wishes. But to
|
||
command morality under the name of duty is quite rational; for, in the
|
||
first place, not everyone is willing to obey its precepts if they
|
||
oppose his inclinations; and as to the means of obeying this law,
|
||
these need not in this case be taught, for in this respect whatever he
|
||
wishes to do be can do.
|
||
He who has lost at play may be vexed at himself and his folly, but
|
||
if he is conscious of having cheated at play (although he has gained
|
||
thereby), he must despise himself as soon as he compares himself
|
||
with the moral law. This must, therefore, be something different
|
||
from the principle of private happiness. For a man must have a
|
||
different criterion when he is compelled to say to himself: "I am a
|
||
worthless fellow, though I have filled my purse"; and when he approves
|
||
himself, and says: "I am a prudent man, for I have enriched my
|
||
treasure."
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 100}
|
||
Finally, there is something further in the idea of our practical
|
||
reason, which accompanies the transgression of a moral law- namely,
|
||
its ill desert. Now the notion of punishment, as such, cannot be
|
||
united with that of becoming a partaker of happiness; for although
|
||
he who inflicts the punishment may at the same time have the
|
||
benevolent purpose of directing this punishment to this end, yet it
|
||
must first be justified in itself as punishment, i.e., as mere harm,
|
||
so that if it stopped there, and the person punished could get no
|
||
glimpse of kindness hidden behind this harshness, he must yet admit
|
||
that justice was done him, and that his reward was perfectly
|
||
suitable to his conduct. In every punishment, as such, there must
|
||
first be justice, and this constitutes the essence of the notion.
|
||
Benevolence may, indeed, be united with it, but the man who has
|
||
deserved punishment has not the least reason to reckon upon this.
|
||
Punishment, then, is a physical evil, which, though it be not
|
||
connected with moral evil as a natural consequence, ought to be
|
||
connected with it as a consequence by the principles of a moral
|
||
legislation. Now, if every crime, even without regarding the
|
||
physical consequence with respect to the actor, is in itself
|
||
punishable, that is, forfeits happiness (at least partially), it is
|
||
obviously absurd to say that the crime consisted just in this, that be
|
||
has drawn punishment on himself, thereby injuring his private
|
||
happiness (which, on the principle of self-love, must be the proper
|
||
notion of all crime). According to this view, the punishment would
|
||
be the reason for calling anything a crime, and justice would, on
|
||
the contrary, consist in omitting all punishment, and even
|
||
preventing that which naturally follows; for, if this were done, there
|
||
would no longer be any evil in the action, since the harm which
|
||
otherwise followed it, and on account of which alone the action was
|
||
called evil, would now be prevented. To look, however, on all
|
||
rewards and punishments as merely the machinery in the hand of a
|
||
higher power, which is to serve only to set rational creatures
|
||
striving after their final end (happiness), this is to reduce the will
|
||
to a mechanism destructive of freedom; this is so evident that it need
|
||
not detain us.
|
||
More refined, though equally false, is the theory of those who
|
||
suppose a certain special moral sense, which sense and not reason
|
||
determines the moral law, and in consequence of which the
|
||
consciousness of virtue is supposed to be directly connected with
|
||
contentment and pleasure; that of vice, with mental dissatisfaction
|
||
and pain; thus reducing the whole to the desire of private
|
||
happiness. Without repeating what has been said above, I will here
|
||
only remark the fallacy they fall into. In order to imagine the
|
||
vicious man as tormented with mental dissatisfaction by the
|
||
consciousness of his transgressions, they must first represent him
|
||
as in the main basis of his character, at least in some degree,
|
||
morally good; just as he who is pleased with the consciousness of
|
||
right conduct must be conceived as already virtuous. The notion of
|
||
morality and duty must, therefore, have preceded any regard to this
|
||
satisfaction, and cannot be derived from it. A man must first
|
||
appreciate the importance of what we call duty, the authority of the
|
||
moral law, and the immediate dignity which the following of it gives
|
||
to the person in his own eyes, in order to feel that satisfaction in
|
||
the consciousness of his conformity to it and the bitter remorse
|
||
that accompanies the consciousness of its transgression. It is,
|
||
therefore, impossible to feel this satisfaction or dissatisfaction
|
||
prior to the knowledge of obligation, or to make it the basis of the
|
||
latter. A man must be at least half honest in order even to be able to
|
||
form a conception of these feelings. I do not deny that as the human
|
||
will is, by virtue of liberty, capable of being immediately determined
|
||
by the moral law, so frequent practice in accordance with this
|
||
principle of determination can, at least, produce subjectively a
|
||
feeling of satisfaction; on the contrary, it is a duty to establish
|
||
and to cultivate this, which alone deserves to be called properly
|
||
the moral feeling; but the notion of duty cannot be derived from it,
|
||
else we should have to suppose a feeling for the law as such, and thus
|
||
make that an object of sensation which can only be thought by the
|
||
reason; and this, if it is not to be a flat contradiction, would
|
||
destroy all notion of duty and put in its place a mere mechanical play
|
||
of refined inclinations sometimes contending with the coarser.
|
||
If now we compare our formal supreme principle of pure practical
|
||
reason (that of autonomy of the will) with all previous material
|
||
principles of morality, we can exhibit them all in a table in which
|
||
all possible cases are exhausted, except the one formal principle; and
|
||
thus we can show visibly that it is vain to look for any other
|
||
principle than that now proposed. In fact all possible principles of
|
||
determination of the will are either merely subjective, and
|
||
therefore empirical, or are also objective and rational; and both
|
||
are either external or internal.
|
||
-
|
||
Practical Material Principles of Determination taken as the
|
||
Foundation of Morality, are:
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 105}
|
||
-
|
||
SUBJECTIVE.
|
||
-
|
||
EXTERNAL INTERNAL
|
||
Education Physical feeling
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 110}
|
||
(Montaigne) (Epicurus)
|
||
The civil Moral feeling
|
||
Constitution (Hutcheson)
|
||
(Mandeville)
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 115}
|
||
OBJECTIVE.
|
||
-
|
||
INTERNAL EXTERNAL
|
||
Perfection Will of God
|
||
(Wolf and the (Crusius and other
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 120}
|
||
Stoics) theological Moralists)
|
||
-
|
||
Those of the upper table are all empirical and evidently incapable
|
||
of furnishing the universal principle of morality; but those in the
|
||
lower table are based on reason (for perfection as a quality of
|
||
things, and the highest perfection conceived as substance, that is,
|
||
God, can only be thought by means of rational concepts). But the
|
||
former notion, namely, that of perfection, may either be taken in a
|
||
theoretic signification, and then it means nothing but the
|
||
completeness of each thing in its own kind (transcendental), or that
|
||
of a thing merely as a thing (metaphysical); and with that we are
|
||
not concerned here. But the notion of perfection in a practical
|
||
sense is the fitness or sufficiency of a thing for all sorts of
|
||
purposes. This perfection, as a quality of man and consequently
|
||
internal, is nothing but talent and, what strengthens or completes
|
||
this, skill. Supreme perfection conceived as substance, that is God,
|
||
and consequently external (considered practically), is the sufficiency
|
||
of this being for all ends. Ends then must first be given,
|
||
relatively to which only can the notion of perfection (whether
|
||
internal in ourselves or external in God) be the determining principle
|
||
of the will. But an end- being an object which must precede the
|
||
determination of the will by a practical rule and contain the ground
|
||
of the possibility of this determination, and therefore contain also
|
||
the matter of the will, taken as its determining principle- such an
|
||
end is always empirical and, therefore, may serve for the Epicurean
|
||
principle of the happiness theory, but not for the pure rational
|
||
principle of morality and duty. Thus, talents and the improvement of
|
||
them, because they contribute to the advantages of life; or the will
|
||
of God, if agreement with it be taken as the object of the will,
|
||
without any antecedent independent practical principle, can be motives
|
||
only by reason of the happiness expected therefrom. Hence it
|
||
follows, first, that all the principles here stated are material;
|
||
secondly, that they include all possible material principles; and,
|
||
finally, the conclusion, that since material principles are quite
|
||
incapable of furnishing the supreme moral law (as has been shown), the
|
||
formal practical principle the pure reason (according to which the
|
||
mere form of a universal legislation must constitute the supreme and
|
||
immediate determining principle of the will) is the only one
|
||
possible which is adequate to furnish categorical imperatives, that
|
||
is, practical laws (which make actions a duty), and in general to
|
||
serve as the principle of morality, both in criticizing conduct and
|
||
also in its application to the human will to determine it.
|
||
-
|
||
I. Of the Deduction of the Fundamental Principles of Pure
|
||
Practical Reason.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 125}
|
||
-
|
||
This Analytic shows that pure reason can be practical, that is,
|
||
can of itself determine the will independently of anything
|
||
empirical; and this it proves by a fact in which pure reason in us
|
||
proves itself actually practical, namely, the autonomy shown in the
|
||
fundamental principle of morality, by which reason determines the will
|
||
to action.
|
||
It shows at the same time that this fact is inseparably connected
|
||
with the consciousness of freedom of the will, nay, is identical
|
||
with it; and by this the will of a rational being, although as
|
||
belonging to the world of sense it recognizes itself as necessarily
|
||
subject to the laws of causality like other efficient causes; yet,
|
||
at the same time, on another side, namely, as a being in itself, is
|
||
conscious of existing in and being determined by an intelligible order
|
||
of things; conscious not by virtue of a special intuition of itself,
|
||
but by virtue of certain dynamical laws which determine its
|
||
causality in the sensible world; for it has been elsewhere proved that
|
||
if freedom is predicated of us, it transports us into an
|
||
intelligible order of things.
|
||
Now, if we compare with this the analytical part of the critique
|
||
of pure speculative reason, we shall see a remarkable contrast.
|
||
There it was not fundamental principles, but pure, sensible
|
||
intuition (space and time), that was the first datum that made a
|
||
priori knowledge possible, though only of objects of the senses.
|
||
Synthetical principles could not be derived from mere concepts without
|
||
intuition; on the contrary, they could only exist with reference to
|
||
this intuition, and therefore to objects of possible experience, since
|
||
it is the concepts of the understanding, united with this intuition,
|
||
which alone make that knowledge possible which we call experience.
|
||
Beyond objects of experience, and therefore with regard to things as
|
||
noumena, all positive knowledge was rightly disclaimed for speculative
|
||
reason. This reason, however, went so far as to establish with
|
||
certainty the concept of noumena; that is, the possibility, nay, the
|
||
necessity, of thinking them; for example, it showed against all
|
||
objections that the supposition of freedom, negatively considered, was
|
||
quite consistent with those principles and limitations of pure
|
||
theoretic reason. But it could not give us any definite enlargement of
|
||
our knowledge with respect to such objects, but, on the contrary,
|
||
cut off all view of them altogether.
|
||
On the other hand, the moral law, although it gives no view, yet
|
||
gives us a fact absolutely inexplicable from any data of the
|
||
sensible world, and the whole compass of our theoretical use of
|
||
reason, a fact which points to a pure world of the understanding, nay,
|
||
even defines it positively and enables us to know something of it,
|
||
namely, a law.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 130}
|
||
This law (as far as rational beings are concerned) gives to the
|
||
world of sense, which is a sensible system of nature, the form of a
|
||
world of the understanding, that is, of a supersensible system of
|
||
nature, without interfering with its mechanism. Now, a system of
|
||
nature, in the most general sense, is the existence of things under
|
||
laws. The sensible nature of rational beings in general is their
|
||
existence under laws empirically conditioned, which, from the point of
|
||
view of reason, is heteronomy. The supersensible nature of the same
|
||
beings, on the other hand, is their existence according to laws
|
||
which are independent of every empirical condition and, therefore,
|
||
belong to the autonomy of pure reason. And, since the laws by which
|
||
the existence of things depends on cognition are practical,
|
||
supersensible nature, so far as we can form any notion of it, is
|
||
nothing else than a system of nature under the autonomy of pure
|
||
practical reason. Now, the law of this autonomy is the moral law,
|
||
which, therefore, is the fundamental law of a supersensible nature,
|
||
and of a pure world of understanding, whose counterpart must exist
|
||
in the world of sense, but without interfering with its laws. We might
|
||
call the former the archetypal world (natura archetypa), which we only
|
||
know in the reason; and the latter the ectypal world (natura
|
||
ectypa), because it contains the possible effect of the idea of the
|
||
former which is the determining principle of the will. For the moral
|
||
law, in fact, transfers us ideally into a system in which pure reason,
|
||
if it were accompanied with adequate physical power, would produce the
|
||
summum bonum, and it determines our will to give the sensible world
|
||
the form of a system of rational beings.
|
||
The least attention to oneself proves that this idea really serves
|
||
as the model for the determinations of our will.
|
||
When the maxim which I am disposed to follow in giving testimony
|
||
is tested by the practical reason, I always consider what it would
|
||
be if it were to hold as a universal law of nature. It is manifest
|
||
that in this view it would oblige everyone to speak the truth. For
|
||
it cannot hold as a universal law of nature that statements should
|
||
be allowed to have the force of proof and yet to be purposely
|
||
untrue. Similarly, the maxim which I adopt with respect to disposing
|
||
freely of my life is at once determined, when I ask myself what it
|
||
should be, in order that a system, of which it is the law, should
|
||
maintain itself. It is obvious that in such a system no one could
|
||
arbitrarily put an end to his own life, for such an arrangement
|
||
would not be a permanent order of things. And so in all similar cases.
|
||
Now, in nature, as it actually is an object of experience, the free
|
||
will is not of itself determined to maxims which could of themselves
|
||
be the foundation of a natural system of universal laws, or which
|
||
could even be adapted to a system so constituted; on the contrary, its
|
||
maxims are private inclinations which constitute, indeed, a natural
|
||
whole in conformity with pathological (physical) laws, but could not
|
||
form part of a system of nature, which would only be possible
|
||
through our will acting in accordance with pure practical laws. Yet we
|
||
are, through reason, conscious of a law to which all our maxims are
|
||
subject, as though a natural order must be originated from our will.
|
||
This law, therefore, must be the idea of a natural system not given in
|
||
experience, and yet possible through freedom; a system, therefore,
|
||
which is supersensible, and to which we give objective reality, at
|
||
least in a practical point of view, since we look on it as an object
|
||
of our will as pure rational beings.
|
||
Hence the distinction between the laws of a natural system to
|
||
which the will is subject, and of a natural system which is subject to
|
||
a will (as far as its relation to its free actions is concerned),
|
||
rests on this, that in the former the objects must be causes of the
|
||
ideas which determine the will; whereas in the latter the will is
|
||
the cause of the objects; so that its causality has its determining
|
||
principle solely in the pure faculty of reason, which may therefore be
|
||
called a pure practical reason.
|
||
There are therefore two very distinct problems: how, on the one
|
||
side, pure reason can cognise objects a priori, and how on the other
|
||
side it can be an immediate determining principle of the will, that
|
||
is, of the causality of the rational being with respect to the reality
|
||
of objects (through the mere thought of the universal validity of
|
||
its own maxims as laws).
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 135}
|
||
The former, which belongs to the critique of the pure speculative
|
||
reason, requires a previous explanation, how intuitions without
|
||
which no object can be given, and, therefore, none known
|
||
synthetically, are possible a priori; and its solution turns out to be
|
||
that these are all only sensible and, therefore, do not render
|
||
possible any speculative knowledge which goes further than possible
|
||
experience reaches; and that therefore all the principles of that pure
|
||
speculative reason avail only to make experience possible; either
|
||
experience of given objects or of those that may be given ad
|
||
infinitum, but never are completely given.
|
||
The latter, which belongs to the critique of practical reason,
|
||
requires no explanation how the objects of the faculty of desire are
|
||
possible, for that being a problem of the theoretical knowledge of
|
||
nature is left to the critique of the speculative reason, but only how
|
||
reason can determine the maxims of the will; whether this takes
|
||
place only by means of empirical ideas as principles of determination,
|
||
or whether pure reason can be practical and be the law of a possible
|
||
order of nature, which is not empirically knowable. The possibility of
|
||
such a supersensible system of nature, the conception of which can
|
||
also be the ground of its reality through our own free will, does
|
||
not require any a priori intuition (of an intelligible world) which,
|
||
being in this case supersensible, would be impossible for us. For
|
||
the question is only as to the determining principle of volition in
|
||
its maxims, namely, whether it is empirical, or is a conception of the
|
||
pure reason (having the legal character belonging to it in general),
|
||
and how it can be the latter. It is left to the theoretic principles
|
||
of reason to decide whether the causality of the will suffices for the
|
||
realization of the objects or not, this being an inquiry into the
|
||
possibility of the objects of the volition. Intuition of these objects
|
||
is therefore of no importance to the practical problem. We are here
|
||
concerned only with the determination of the will and the
|
||
determining principles of its maxims as a free will, not at all with
|
||
the result. For, provided only that the will conforms to the law of
|
||
pure reason, then let its power in execution be what it may, whether
|
||
according to these maxims of legislation of a possible system of
|
||
nature any such system really results or not, this is no concern of
|
||
the critique, which only inquires whether, and in what way, pure
|
||
reason can be practical, that is directly determine the will.
|
||
In this inquiry criticism may and must begin with pure practical
|
||
laws and their reality. But instead of intuition it takes as their
|
||
foundation the conception of their existence in the intelligible
|
||
world, namely, the concept of freedom. For this concept has no other
|
||
meaning, and these laws are only possible in relation to freedom of
|
||
the will; but freedom being supposed, they are necessary; or
|
||
conversely freedom is necessary because those laws are necessary,
|
||
being practical postulates. It cannot be further explained how this
|
||
consciousness of the moral law, or, what is the same thing, of
|
||
freedom, is possible; but that it is admissible is well established in
|
||
the theoretical critique.
|
||
The exposition of the supreme principle of practical reason is now
|
||
finished; that is to say, it has been- shown first, what it
|
||
contains, that it subsists for itself quite a priori and independent
|
||
of empirical principles; and next in what it is distinguished from all
|
||
other practical principles. With the deduction, that is, the
|
||
justification of its objective and universal validity, and the
|
||
discernment of the possibility of such a synthetical proposition a
|
||
priori, we cannot expect to succeed so well as in the case of the
|
||
principles of pure theoretical reason. For these referred to objects
|
||
of possible experience, namely, to phenomena, and we could prove
|
||
that these phenomena could be known as objects of experience only by
|
||
being brought under the categories in accordance with these laws;
|
||
and consequently that all possible experience must conform to these
|
||
laws. But I could not proceed in this way with the deduction of the
|
||
moral law. For this does not concern the knowledge of the properties
|
||
of objects, which may be given to the reason from some other source;
|
||
but a knowledge which can itself be the ground of the existence of the
|
||
objects, and by which reason in a rational being has causality,
|
||
i.e., pure reason, which can be regarded as a faculty immediately
|
||
determining the will.
|
||
Now all our human insight is at an end as soon as we have arrived at
|
||
fundamental powers or faculties, for the possibility of these cannot
|
||
be understood by any means, and just as little should it be
|
||
arbitrarily invented and assumed. Therefore, in the theoretic use of
|
||
reason, it is experience alone that can justify us in assuming them.
|
||
But this expedient of adducing empirical proofs, instead of a
|
||
deduction from a priori sources of knowledge, is denied us here in
|
||
respect to the pure practical faculty of reason. For whatever requires
|
||
to draw the proof of its reality from experience must depend for the
|
||
grounds of its possibility on principles of experience; and pure,
|
||
yet practical, reason by its very notion cannot be regarded as such.
|
||
Further, the moral law is given as a fact of pure reason of which we
|
||
are a priori conscious, and which is apodeictically certain, though it
|
||
be granted that in experience no example of its exact fulfilment can
|
||
be found. Hence, the objective reality of the moral law cannot be
|
||
proved by any deduction by any efforts of theoretical reason,
|
||
whether speculative or empirically supported, and therefore, even if
|
||
we renounced its apodeictic certainty, it could not be proved a
|
||
posteriori by experience, and yet it is firmly established of itself.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 140}
|
||
But instead of this vainly sought deduction of the moral
|
||
principle, something else is found which was quite unexpected, namely,
|
||
that this moral principle serves conversely as the principle of the
|
||
deduction of an inscrutable faculty which no experience could prove,
|
||
but of which speculative reason was compelled at least to assume the
|
||
possibility (in order to find amongst its cosmological ideas the
|
||
unconditioned in the chain of causality, so as not to contradict
|
||
itself)- I mean the faculty of freedom. The moral law, which itself
|
||
does not require a justification, proves not merely the possibility of
|
||
freedom, but that it really belongs to beings who recognize this law
|
||
as binding on themselves. The moral law is in fact a law of the
|
||
causality of free agents and, therefore, of the possibility of a
|
||
supersensible system of nature, just as the metaphysical law of events
|
||
in the world of sense was a law of causality of the sensible system of
|
||
nature; and it therefore determines what speculative philosophy was
|
||
compelled to leave undetermined, namely, the law for a causality,
|
||
the concept of which in the latter was only negative; and therefore
|
||
for the first time gives this concept objective reality.
|
||
This sort of credential of the moral law, viz., that it is set forth
|
||
as a principle of the deduction of freedom, which is a causality of
|
||
pure reason, is a sufficient substitute for all a priori
|
||
justification, since theoretic reason was compelled to assume at least
|
||
the possibility of freedom, in order to satisfy a want of its own. For
|
||
the moral law proves its reality, so as even to satisfy the critique
|
||
of the speculative reason, by the fact that it adds a positive
|
||
definition to a causality previously conceived only negatively, the
|
||
possibility of which was incomprehensible to speculative reason, which
|
||
yet was compelled to suppose it. For it adds the notion of a reason
|
||
that directly determines the will (by imposing on its maxims the
|
||
condition of a universal legislative form); and thus it is able for
|
||
the first time to give objective, though only practical, reality to
|
||
reason, which always became transcendent when it sought to proceed
|
||
speculatively with its ideas. It thus changes the transcendent use
|
||
of reason into an immanent use (so that reason is itself, by means
|
||
of ideas, an efficient cause in the field of experience).
|
||
The determination of the causality of beings in the world of
|
||
sense, as such, can never be unconditioned; and yet for every series
|
||
of conditions there must be something unconditioned, and therefore
|
||
there must be a causality which is determined wholly by itself. Hence,
|
||
the idea of freedom as a faculty of absolute spontaneity was not found
|
||
to be a want but, as far as its possibility is concerned, an
|
||
analytic principle of pure speculative reason. But as it is absolutely
|
||
impossible to find in experience any example in accordance with this
|
||
idea, because amongst the causes of things as phenomena it would be
|
||
impossible to meet with any absolutely unconditioned determination
|
||
of causality, we were only able to defend our supposition that a
|
||
freely acting cause might be a being in the world of sense, in so
|
||
far as it is considered in the other point of view as a noumenon,
|
||
showing that there is no contradiction in regarding all its actions as
|
||
subject to physical conditions so far as they are phenomena, and yet
|
||
regarding its causality as physically unconditioned, in so far as
|
||
the acting being belongs to the world of understanding, and in thus
|
||
making the concept of freedom the regulative principle of reason. By
|
||
this principle I do not indeed learn what the object is to which
|
||
that sort of causality is attributed; but I remove the difficulty,
|
||
for, on the one side, in the explanation of events in the world, and
|
||
consequently also of the actions of rational beings, I leave to the
|
||
mechanism of physical necessity the right of ascending from
|
||
conditioned to condition ad infinitum, while on the other side I
|
||
keep open for speculative reason the place which for it is vacant,
|
||
namely, the intelligible, in order to transfer the unconditioned
|
||
thither. But I was not able to verify this supposition; that is, to
|
||
change it into the knowledge of a being so acting, not even into the
|
||
knowledge of the possibility of such a being. This vacant place is now
|
||
filled by pure practical reason with a definite law of causality in an
|
||
intelligible world (causality with freedom), namely, the moral law.
|
||
Speculative reason does not hereby gain anything as regards its
|
||
insight, but only as regards the certainty of its problematical notion
|
||
of freedom, which here obtains objective reality, which, though only
|
||
practical, is nevertheless undoubted. Even the notion of causality-
|
||
the application, and consequently the signification, of which holds
|
||
properly only in relation to phenomena, so as to connect them into
|
||
experiences (as is shown by the Critique of Pure Reason)- is not so
|
||
enlarged as to extend its use beyond these limits. For if reason
|
||
sought to do this, it would have to show how the logical relation of
|
||
principle and consequence can be used synthetically in a different
|
||
sort of intuition from the sensible; that is how a causa noumenon is
|
||
possible. This it can never do; and, as practical reason, it does
|
||
not even concern itself with it, since it only places the
|
||
determining principle of causality of man as a sensible creature
|
||
(which is given) in pure reason (which is therefore called practical);
|
||
and therefore it employs the notion of cause, not in order to know
|
||
objects, but to determine causality in relation to objects in general.
|
||
It can abstract altogether from the application of this notion to
|
||
objects with a view to theoretical knowledge (since this concept is
|
||
always found a priori in the understanding even independently of any
|
||
intuition). Reason, then, employs it only for a practical purpose, and
|
||
hence we can transfer the determining principle of the will into the
|
||
intelligible order of things, admitting, at the same time, that we
|
||
cannot understand how the notion of cause can determine the
|
||
knowledge of these things. But reason must cognise causality with
|
||
respect to the actions of the will in the sensible world in a definite
|
||
manner; otherwise, practical reason could not really produce any
|
||
action. But as to the notion which it forms of its own causality as
|
||
noumenon, it need not determine it theoretically with a view to the
|
||
cognition of its supersensible existence, so as to give it
|
||
significance in this way. For it acquires significance apart from
|
||
this, though only for practical use, namely, through the moral law.
|
||
Theoretically viewed, it remains always a pure a priori concept of the
|
||
understanding, which can be applied to objects whether they have
|
||
been given sensibly or not, although in the latter case it has no
|
||
definite theoretical significance or application, but is only a
|
||
formal, though essential, conception of the understanding relating
|
||
to an object in general. The significance which reason gives it
|
||
through the moral law is merely practical, inasmuch as the idea of the
|
||
idea of the law of causality (of the will) has self causality, or is
|
||
its determining principle.
|
||
-
|
||
II. Of the Right that Pure Reason in its Practical use has to an
|
||
Extension which is not possible to it in its Speculative Use.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 145}
|
||
-
|
||
We have in the moral principle set forth a law of causality, the
|
||
determining principle of which is set above all the conditions of
|
||
the sensible world; we have it conceived how the will, as belonging to
|
||
the intelligible world, is determinable, and therefore we therefore we
|
||
have its subject (man) not merely conceived as belonging to a world of
|
||
pure understanding, and in this respect unknown (which the critique of
|
||
speculative reason enabled us to do), but also defined as regards
|
||
his causality by means of a law which cannot be reduced to any
|
||
physical law of the sensible world; and therefore our knowledge is
|
||
extended beyond the limits of that world, a pretension which the
|
||
Critique of Pure Reason declared to be futile in all speculation. Now,
|
||
how is the practical use of pure reason here to be reconciled with the
|
||
theoretical, as to the determination of the limits of its faculty?
|
||
David Hume, of whom we may say that he commenced the assault on
|
||
the claims of pure reason, which made a thorough investigation of it
|
||
necessary, argued thus: The notion of cause is a notion that
|
||
involves the necessity of the connexion of the existence of
|
||
different things (and that, in so far as they are different), so that,
|
||
given A, I know that something quite distinct there from, namely B,
|
||
must necessarily also exist. Now necessity can be attributed to a
|
||
connection, only in so far as it is known a priori, for experience
|
||
would only enable us to know of such a connection that it exists,
|
||
not that it necessarily exists. Now, it is impossible, says he, to
|
||
know a priori and as necessary the connection between one thing and
|
||
another (or between one attribute and another quite distinct) when
|
||
they have not been given in experience. Therefore the notion of a
|
||
cause is fictitious and delusive and, to speak in the mildest way,
|
||
is an illusion, only excusable inasmuch as the custom (a subjective
|
||
necessity) of perceiving certain things, or their attributes as
|
||
often associated in existence along with or in succession to one
|
||
another, is insensibly taken for an objective necessity of supposing
|
||
such a connection in the objects themselves; and thus the notion of
|
||
a cause has been acquired surreptitiously and not legitimately; nay,
|
||
it can never be so acquired or authenticated, since it demands a
|
||
connection in itself vain, chimerical, and untenable in presence of
|
||
reason, and to which no object can ever correspond. In this way was
|
||
empiricism first introduced as the sole source of principles, as far
|
||
as all knowledge of the existence of things is concerned
|
||
(mathematics therefore remaining excepted); and with empiricism the
|
||
most thorough scepticism, even with regard to the whole science of
|
||
nature( as philosophy). For on such principles we can never conclude
|
||
from given attributes of things as existing to a consequence (for this
|
||
would require the notion of cause, which involves the necessity of
|
||
such a connection); we can only, guided by imagination, expect similar
|
||
cases- an expectation which is never certain, however of ten it has
|
||
been fulfilled. Of no event could we say: a certain thing must have
|
||
preceded it, on which it necessarily followed; that is, it must have a
|
||
cause; and therefore, however frequent the cases we have known in
|
||
which there was such an antecedent, so that a rule could be derived
|
||
from them, yet we never could suppose it as always and necessarily
|
||
so happening; we should, therefore, be obliged to leave its share to
|
||
blind chance, with which all use of reason comes to an end; and this
|
||
firmly establishes scepticism in reference to arguments ascending from
|
||
effects to causes and makes it impregnable.
|
||
Mathematics escaped well, so far, because Hume thought that its
|
||
propositions were analytical; that is, proceeded from one property
|
||
to another, by virtue of identity and, consequently, according to
|
||
the principle of contradiction. This, however, is not the case, since,
|
||
on the contrary, they are synthetical; and although geometry, for
|
||
example, has not to do with the existence of things, but only with
|
||
their a priori properties in a possible intuition, yet it proceeds
|
||
just as in the case of the causal notion, from one property (A) to
|
||
another wholly distinct (B), as necessarily connected with the former.
|
||
Nevertheless, mathematical science, so highly vaunted for its
|
||
apodeictic certainty, must at last fall under this empiricism for
|
||
the same reason for which Hume put custom in the place of objective
|
||
necessity in the notion of cause and, in spite of all its pride,
|
||
must consent to lower its bold pretension of claiming assent a
|
||
priori and depend for assent to the universality of its propositions
|
||
on the kindness of observers, who, when called as witnesses, would
|
||
surely not hesitate to admit that what the geometer propounds as a
|
||
theorem they have always perceived to be the fact, and,
|
||
consequently, although it be not necessarily true, yet they would
|
||
permit us to expect it to be true in the future. In this manner Hume's
|
||
empiricism leads inevitably to scepticism, even with regard to
|
||
mathematics, and consequently in every scientific theoretical use of
|
||
reason (for this belongs either to philosophy or mathematics). Whether
|
||
with such a terrible overthrow of the chief branches of knowledge,
|
||
common reason will escape better, and will not rather become
|
||
irrecoverably involved in this destruction of all knowledge, so that
|
||
from the same principles a universal scepticism should follow
|
||
(affecting, indeed, only the learned), this I will leave everyone to
|
||
judge for himself.
|
||
As regards my own labours in the critical examination of pure
|
||
reason, which were occasioned by Hume's sceptical teaching, but went
|
||
much further and embraced the whole field of pure theoretical reason
|
||
in its synthetic use and, consequently, the field of what is called
|
||
metaphysics in general; I proceeded in the following manner with
|
||
respect to the doubts raised by the Scottish philosopher touching
|
||
the notion of causality. If Hume took the objects of experience for
|
||
things in themselves (as is almost always done), he was quite right in
|
||
declaring the notion of cause to be a deception and false illusion;
|
||
for as to things in themselves, and their attributes as such, it is
|
||
impossible to see why because A is given, B, which is different,
|
||
must necessarily be also given, and therefore he could by no means
|
||
admit such an a priori knowledge of things in themselves. Still less
|
||
could this acute writer allow an empirical origin of this concept,
|
||
since this is directly contradictory to the necessity of connection
|
||
which constitutes the essence of the notion of causality, hence the
|
||
notion was proscribed, and in its place was put custom in the
|
||
observation of the course of perceptions.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 150}
|
||
It resulted, however, from my inquiries, that the objects with which
|
||
we have to do in experience are by no means things in themselves,
|
||
but merely phenomena; and that although in the case of things in
|
||
themselves it is impossible to see how, if A is supposed, it should be
|
||
contradictory that B, which is quite different from A, should not also
|
||
be supposed (i.e., to see the necessity of the connection between A as
|
||
cause and B as effect); yet it can very well be conceived that, as
|
||
phenomena, they may be necessarily connected in one experience in a
|
||
certain way (e.g., with regard to time-relations); so that they
|
||
could not be separated without contradicting that connection, by means
|
||
of which this experience is possible in which they are objects and
|
||
in which alone they are cognisable by us. And so it was found to be in
|
||
fact; so that I was able not only to prove the objective reality of
|
||
the concept of cause in regard to objects of experience, but also to
|
||
deduce it as an a priori concept by reason of the necessity of the
|
||
connection it implied; that is, to show the possibility of its
|
||
origin from pure understanding without any empirical sources; and
|
||
thus, after removing the source of empiricism, I was able also to
|
||
overthrow the inevitable consequence of this, namely, scepticism,
|
||
first with regard to physical science, and then with regard to
|
||
mathematics (in which empiricism has just the same grounds), both
|
||
being sciences which have reference to objects of possible experience;
|
||
herewith overthrowing the thorough doubt of whatever theoretic
|
||
reason professes to discern.
|
||
But how is it with the application of this category of causality
|
||
(and all the others; for without them there can be no knowledge of
|
||
anything existing) to things which are not objects of possible
|
||
experience, but lie beyond its bounds? For I was able to deduce the
|
||
objective reality of these concepts only with regard to objects of
|
||
possible experience. But even this very fact, that I have saved
|
||
them, only in case I have proved that objects may by means of them
|
||
be thought, though not determined a priori; this it is that gives them
|
||
a place in the pure understanding, by which they are referred to
|
||
objects in general (sensible or not sensible). If anything is still
|
||
wanting, it is that which is the condition of the application of these
|
||
categories, and especially that of causality, to objects, namely,
|
||
intuition; for where this is not given, the application with a view to
|
||
theoretic knowledge of the object, as a noumenon, is impossible and,
|
||
therefore, if anyone ventures on it, is (as in the Critique of Pure
|
||
Reason) absolutely forbidden. Still, the objective reality of the
|
||
concept (of causality) remains, and it can be used even of noumena,
|
||
but without our being able in the least to define the concept
|
||
theoretically so as to produce knowledge. For that this concept,
|
||
even in reference to an object, contains nothing impossible, was shown
|
||
by this, that, even while applied to objects of sense, its seat was
|
||
certainly fixed in the pure understanding; and although, when referred
|
||
to things in themselves (which cannot be objects of experience), it is
|
||
not capable of being determined so as to represent a definite object
|
||
for the purpose of theoretic knowledge; yet for any other purpose (for
|
||
instance, a practical) it might be capable of being determined so as
|
||
to have such application. This could not be the case if, as Hume
|
||
maintained, this concept of causality contained something absolutely
|
||
impossible to be thought.
|
||
In order now to discover this condition of the application of the
|
||
said concept to noumena, we need only recall why we are not content
|
||
with its application to objects of experience, but desire also to
|
||
apply it to things in themselves. It will appear, then, that it is not
|
||
a theoretic but a practical purpose that makes this a necessity. In
|
||
speculation, even if we were successful in it, we should not really
|
||
gain anything in the knowledge of nature, or generally with regard
|
||
to such objects as are given, but we should make a wide step from
|
||
the sensibly conditioned (in which we have already enough to do to
|
||
maintain ourselves, and to follow carefully the chain of causes) to
|
||
the supersensible, in order to complete our knowledge of principles
|
||
and to fix its limits; whereas there always remains an infinite
|
||
chasm unfilled between those limits and what we know; and we should
|
||
have hearkened to a vain curiosity rather than a solid-desire of
|
||
knowledge.
|
||
But, besides the relation in which the understanding stands to
|
||
objects (in theoretical knowledge), it has also a relation to the
|
||
faculty of desire, which is therefore called the will, and the pure
|
||
will, inasmuch as pure understanding (in this case called reason) is
|
||
practical through the mere conception of a law. The objective
|
||
reality of a pure will, or, what is the same thing, of a pure
|
||
practical reason, is given in the moral law a priori, as it were, by a
|
||
fact, for so we may name a determination of the will which is
|
||
inevitable, although it does not rest on empirical principles. Now, in
|
||
the notion of a will the notion of causality is already contained, and
|
||
hence the notion of a pure will contains that of a causality
|
||
accompanied with freedom, that is, one which is not determinable by
|
||
physical laws, and consequently is not capable of any empirical
|
||
intuition in proof of its reality, but, nevertheless, completely
|
||
justifies its objective reality a priori in the pure practical law;
|
||
not, indeed (as is easily seen) for the purposes of the theoretical,
|
||
but of the practical use of reason. Now the notion of a being that has
|
||
free will is the notion of a causa noumenon, and that this notion
|
||
involves no contradiction, we are already assured by the fact- that
|
||
inasmuch as the concept of cause has arisen wholly from pure
|
||
understanding, and has its objective reality assured by the deduction,
|
||
as it is moreover in its origin independent of any sensible
|
||
conditions, it is, therefore, not restricted to phenomena (unless we
|
||
wanted to make a definite theoretic use of it), but can be applied
|
||
equally to things that are objects of the pure understanding. But,
|
||
since this application cannot rest on any intuition (for intuition can
|
||
only be sensible), therefore, causa noumenon, as regards the theoretic
|
||
use of reason, although a possible and thinkable, is yet an empty
|
||
notion. Now, I do not desire by means of this to understand
|
||
theoretically the nature of a being, in so far as it has a pure
|
||
will; it is enough for me to have thereby designated it as such, and
|
||
hence to combine the notion of causality with that of freedom (and
|
||
what is inseparable from it, the moral law, as its determining
|
||
principle). Now, this right I certainly have by virtue of the pure,
|
||
not-empirical origin of the notion of cause, since I do not consider
|
||
myself entitled to make any use of it except in reference to the moral
|
||
law which determines its reality, that is, only a practical use.
|
||
If, with Hume, I had denied to the notion of causality all objective
|
||
reality in its [theoretic] use, not merely with regard to things in
|
||
themselves (the supersensible), but also with regard to the objects of
|
||
the senses, it would have lost all significance, and being a
|
||
theoretically impossible notion would have been declared to be quite
|
||
useless; and since what is nothing cannot be made any use of, the
|
||
practical use of a concept theoretically null would have been
|
||
absurd. But, as it is, the concept of a causality free from
|
||
empirical conditions, although empty, i.e., without any appropriate
|
||
intuition), is yet theoretically possible, and refers to an
|
||
indeterminate object; but in compensation significance is given to
|
||
it in the moral law and consequently in a practical sense. I have,
|
||
indeed, no intuition which should determine its objective theoretic
|
||
reality, but not the less it has a real application, which is
|
||
exhibited in concreto in intentions or maxims; that is, it has a
|
||
practical reality which can be specified, and this is sufficient to
|
||
justify it even with a view to noumena.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 155}
|
||
Now, this objective reality of a pure concept of the understanding
|
||
in the sphere of the supersensible, once brought in, gives an
|
||
objective reality also to all the other categories, although only so
|
||
far as they stand in necessary connexion with the determining
|
||
principle of the will (the moral law); a reality only of practical
|
||
application, which has not the least effect in enlarging our
|
||
theoretical knowledge of these objects, or the discernment of their
|
||
nature by pure reason. So we shall find also in the sequel that
|
||
these categories refer only to beings as intelligences, and in them
|
||
only to the relation of reason to the will; consequently, always
|
||
only to the practical, and beyond this cannot pretend to any knowledge
|
||
of these beings; and whatever other properties belonging to the
|
||
theoretical representation of supersensible things may be brought into
|
||
connexion with these categories, this is not to be reckoned as
|
||
knowledge, but only as a right (in a practical point of view, however,
|
||
it is a necessity) to admit and assume such beings, even in the case
|
||
where we [conceive] supersensible beings (e.g., God) according to
|
||
analogy, that is, a purely rational relation, of which we make a
|
||
practical use with reference to what is sensible; and thus the
|
||
application to the supersensible solely in a practical point of view
|
||
does not give pure theoretic reason the least encouragement to run
|
||
riot into the transcendent.
|
||
|
||
BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2
|
||
CHAPTER II. Of the Concept of an Object of Pure Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
By a concept of the practical reason I understand the idea of an
|
||
object as an effect possible to be produced through freedom. To be
|
||
an object of practical knowledge, as such, signifies, therefore,
|
||
only the relation of the will to the action by which the object or its
|
||
opposite would be realized; and to decide whether something is an
|
||
object of pure practical reason or not is only to discern the
|
||
possibility or impossibility of willing the action by which, if we had
|
||
the required power (about which experience must decide), a certain
|
||
object would be realized. If the object be taken as the determining
|
||
principle of our desire, it must first be known whether it is
|
||
physically possible by the free use of our powers, before we decide
|
||
whether it is an object of practical reason or not. On the other hand,
|
||
if the law can be considered a priori as the determining principle
|
||
of the action, and the latter therefore as determined by pure
|
||
practical reason, the judgement whether a thing is an object of pure
|
||
practical reason or not does not depend at all on the comparison
|
||
with our physical power; and the question is only whether we should
|
||
will an action that is directed to the existence of an object, if
|
||
the object were in our power; hence the previous question is only as
|
||
the moral possibility of the action, for in this case it is not the
|
||
object, but the law of the will, that is the determining principle
|
||
of the action. The only objects of practical reason are therefore
|
||
those of good and evil. For by the former is meant an object
|
||
necessarily desired according to a principle of reason; by the
|
||
latter one necessarily shunned, also according to a principle of
|
||
reason.
|
||
If the notion of good is not to be derived from an antecedent
|
||
practical law, but, on the contrary, is to serve as its foundation, it
|
||
can only be the notion of something whose existence promises pleasure,
|
||
and thus determines the causality of the subject to produce it, that
|
||
is to say, determines the faculty of desire. Now, since it is
|
||
impossible to discern a priori what idea will be accompanied with
|
||
pleasure and what with pain, it will depend on experience alone to
|
||
find out what is primarily good or evil. The property of the
|
||
subject, with reference to which alone this experiment can be made, is
|
||
the feeling of pleasure and pain, a receptivity belonging to the
|
||
internal sense; thus that only would be primarily good with which
|
||
the sensation of pleasure is immediately connected, and that simply
|
||
evil which immediately excites pain. Since, however, this is opposed
|
||
even to the usage of language, which distinguishes the pleasant from
|
||
the good, the unpleasant from the evil, and requires that good and
|
||
evil shall always be judged by reason, and, therefore, by concepts
|
||
which can be communicated to everyone, and not by mere sensation,
|
||
which is limited to individual [subjects] and their susceptibility;
|
||
and, since nevertheless, pleasure or pain cannot be connected with any
|
||
idea of an object a priori, the philosopher who thought himself
|
||
obliged to make a feeling of pleasure the foundation of his
|
||
practical judgements would call that good which is a means to the
|
||
pleasant, and evil, what is a cause of unpleasantness and pain; for
|
||
the judgement on the relation of means to ends certainly belongs to
|
||
reason. But, although reason is alone capable of discerning the
|
||
connexion of means with their ends (so that the will might even be
|
||
defined as the faculty of ends, since these are always determining
|
||
principles of the desires), yet the practical maxims which would
|
||
follow from the aforesaid principle of the good being merely a
|
||
means, would never contain as the object of the will anything good
|
||
in itself, but only something good for something; the good would
|
||
always be merely the useful, and that for which it is useful must
|
||
always lie outside the will, in sensation. Now if this as a pleasant
|
||
sensation were to be distinguished from the notion of good, then there
|
||
would be nothing primarily good at all, but the good would have to
|
||
be sought only in the means to something else, namely, some
|
||
pleasantness.
|
||
It is an old formula of the schools: Nihil appetimus nisi sub
|
||
ratione boni; Nihil aversamur nisi sub ratione mali, and it is used
|
||
often correctly, but often also in a manner injurious to philosophy,
|
||
because the expressions boni and mali are ambiguous, owing to the
|
||
poverty of language, in consequence of which they admit a double
|
||
sense, and, therefore, inevitably bring the practical laws into
|
||
ambiguity; and philosophy, which in employing them becomes aware of
|
||
the different meanings in the same word, but can find no special
|
||
expressions for them, is driven to subtile distinctions about which
|
||
there is subsequently no unanimity, because the distinction could
|
||
not be directly marked by any suitable expression.*
|
||
-
|
||
*Besides this, the expression sub ratione boni is also ambiguous.
|
||
For it may mean: "We represent something to ourselves as good, when
|
||
and because we desire (will) it"; or "We desire something because we
|
||
represent it to ourselves as good," so that either the desire
|
||
determines the notion of the object as a good, or the notion of good
|
||
determines the desire (the will); so that in the first case sub
|
||
ratione boni would mean, "We will something under the idea of the
|
||
good"; in the second, "In consequence of this idea," which, as
|
||
determining the volition, must precede it.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 5}
|
||
-
|
||
The German language has the good fortune to possess expressions
|
||
which do not allow this difference to be overlooked. It possesses
|
||
two very distinct concepts and especially distinct expressions for
|
||
that which the Latins express by a single word, bonum. For bonum it
|
||
has das Gute [good], and das Wohl [well, weal], for malum das Bose
|
||
[evil], and das Ubel [ill, bad], or das Well [woe]. So that we express
|
||
two quite distinct judgements when we consider in an action the good
|
||
and evil of it, or our weal and woe (ill). Hence it already follows
|
||
that the above quoted psychological proposition is at least very
|
||
doubtful if it is translated: "We desire nothing except with a view to
|
||
our weal or woe"; on the other hand, if we render it thus: "Under
|
||
the direction of reason we desire nothing except so far as we esteem
|
||
it good or evil," it is indubitably certain and at the same time quite
|
||
clearly expressed.
|
||
Well or ill always implies only a reference to our condition, as
|
||
pleasant or unpleasant, as one of pleasure or pain, and if we desire
|
||
or avoid an object on this account, it is only so far as it is
|
||
referred to our sensibility and to the feeling of pleasure or pain
|
||
that it produces. But good or evil always implies a reference to the
|
||
will, as determined by the law of reason, to make something its
|
||
object; for it is never determined directly by the object and the idea
|
||
of it, but is a faculty of taking a rule of reason for or motive of an
|
||
action (by which an object may be realized). Good and evil therefore
|
||
are properly referred to actions, not to the sensations of the person,
|
||
and if anything is to be good or evil absolutely (i.e., in every
|
||
respect and without any further condition), or is to be so esteemed,
|
||
it can only be the manner of acting, the maxim of the will, and
|
||
consequently the acting person himself as a good or evil man that
|
||
can be so called, and not a thing.
|
||
However, then, men may laugh at the Stoic, who in the severest
|
||
paroxysms of gout cried out: "Pain, however thou tormentest me, I will
|
||
never admit that thou art an evil (kakov, malum)": he was right. A bad
|
||
thing it certainly was, and his cry betrayed that; but that any evil
|
||
attached to him thereby, this he bad no reason whatever to admit,
|
||
for pain did not in the least diminish the worth of his person, but
|
||
only that of his condition. If he had been conscious of a single
|
||
lie, it would have lowered his pride, but pain served only to raise
|
||
it, when he was conscious that he had not deserved it by any
|
||
unrighteous action by which he had rendered himself worthy of
|
||
punishment.
|
||
What we call good must be an object of desire in the judgement of
|
||
every rational man, and evil an object of aversion in the eyes of
|
||
everyone; therefore, in addition to sense, this judgement requires
|
||
reason. So it is with truthfulness, as opposed to lying; so with
|
||
justice, as opposed to violence, &c. But we may call a thing a bad [or
|
||
ill) thing, which yet everyone must at the same time acknowledge to be
|
||
good, sometimes directly, sometimes indirectly. The man who submits to
|
||
a surgical operation feels it no doubt as a bad thing, but by their
|
||
reason he and everyone acknowledge it to be good. If a man who
|
||
delights in annoying and vexing peaceable people at last receives a
|
||
right good beating, this is no doubt a bad thing; but everyone
|
||
approves it and regards it as a good thing, even though nothing else
|
||
resulted from it; nay, even the man who receives it must in his reason
|
||
acknowledge that he has met justice, because he sees the proportion
|
||
between good conduct and good fortune, which reason inevitably
|
||
places before him, here put into practice.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 10}
|
||
No doubt our weal and woe are of very great importance in the
|
||
estimation of our practical reason, and as far as our nature as
|
||
sensible beings is concerned, our happiness is the only thing of
|
||
consequence, provided it is estimated as reason especially requires,
|
||
not by the transitory sensation, but by the influence that this has on
|
||
our whole existence, and on our satisfaction therewith; but it is
|
||
not absolutely the only thing of consequence. Man is a being who, as
|
||
belonging to the world of sense, has wants, and so far his reason
|
||
has an office which it cannot refuse, namely, to attend to the
|
||
interest of his sensible nature, and to form practical maxims, even
|
||
with a view to the happiness of this life, and if possible even to
|
||
that of a future. But he is not so completely an animal as to be
|
||
indifferent to what reason says on its own account, and to use it
|
||
merely as an instrument for the satisfaction of his wants as a
|
||
sensible being. For the possession of reason would not raise his worth
|
||
above that of the brutes, if it is to serve him only for the same
|
||
purpose that instinct serves in them; it would in that case be only
|
||
a particular method which nature had employed to equip man for the
|
||
same ends for which it has qualified brutes, without qualifying him
|
||
for any higher purpose. No doubt once this arrangement of nature has
|
||
been made for him he requires reason in order to take into
|
||
consideration his weal and woe, but besides this he possesses it for a
|
||
higher purpose also, namely, not only to take into consideration
|
||
what is good or evil in itself, about which only pure reason,
|
||
uninfluenced by any sensible interest, can judge, but also to
|
||
distinguish this estimate thoroughly from the former and to make it
|
||
the supreme condition thereof.
|
||
In estimating what is good or evil in itself, as distinguished
|
||
from what can be so called only relatively, the following points are
|
||
to be considered. Either a rational principle is already conceived, as
|
||
of itself the determining principle of the will, without regard to
|
||
possible objects of desire (and therefore by the more legislative form
|
||
of the maxim), and in that case that principle is a practical a priori
|
||
law, and pure reason is supposed to be practical of itself. The law in
|
||
that case determines the will directly; the action conformed to it
|
||
is good in itself; a will whose maxim always conforms to this law is
|
||
good absolutely in every respect and is the supreme condition of all
|
||
good. Or the maxim of the will is consequent on a determining
|
||
principle of desire which presupposes an object of pleasure or pain,
|
||
something therefore that pleases or displeases, and the maxim of
|
||
reason that we should pursue the former and avoid the latter
|
||
determines our actions as good relatively to our inclination, that is,
|
||
good indirectly, i.e., relatively to a different end to which they are
|
||
means), and in that case these maxims can never be called laws, but
|
||
may be called rational practical precepts. The end itself, the
|
||
pleasure that we seek, is in the latter case not a good but a welfare;
|
||
not a concept of reason, but an empirical concept of an object of
|
||
sensation; but the use of the means thereto, that is, the action, is
|
||
nevertheless called good (because rational deliberation is required
|
||
for it), not however, good absolutely, but only relatively to our
|
||
sensuous nature, with regard to its feelings of pleasure and
|
||
displeasure; but the will whose maxim is affected thereby is not a
|
||
pure will; this is directed only to that in which pure reason by
|
||
itself can be practical.
|
||
This is the proper place to explain the paradox of method in a
|
||
critique of practical reason, namely, that the concept of good and
|
||
evil must not be determined before the moral law (of which it seems as
|
||
if it must be the foundation), but only after it and by means of it.
|
||
In fact, even if we did not know that the principle of morality is a
|
||
pure a priori law determining the will, yet, that we may not assume
|
||
principles quite gratuitously, we must, at least at first, leave it
|
||
undecided, whether the will has merely empirical principles of
|
||
determination, or whether it has not also pure a priori principles;
|
||
for it is contrary to all rules of philosophical method to assume as
|
||
decided that which is the very point in question. Supposing that we
|
||
wished to begin with the concept of good, in order to deduce from it
|
||
the laws of the will, then this concept of an object (as a good) would
|
||
at the same time assign to us this object as the sole determining
|
||
principle of the will. Now, since this concept had not any practical a
|
||
priori law for its standard, the criterion of good or evil could not
|
||
be placed in anything but the agreement of the object with our feeling
|
||
of pleasure or pain; and the use of reason could only consist in
|
||
determining in the first place this pleasure or pain in connexion with
|
||
all the sensations of my existence, and in the second place the
|
||
means of securing to myself the object of the pleasure. Now, as
|
||
experience alone can decide what conforms to the feeling of
|
||
pleasure, and by hypothesis the practical law is to be based on this
|
||
as a condition, it follows that the possibility of a priori
|
||
practical laws would be at once excluded, because it was imagined to
|
||
be necessary first of all to find an object the concept of which, as a
|
||
good, should constitute the universal though empirical principle of
|
||
determination of the will. But what it was necessary to inquire
|
||
first of all was whether there is not an a priori determining
|
||
principle of the will (and this could never be found anywhere but in a
|
||
pure practical law, in so far as this law prescribes to maxims
|
||
merely their form without regard to an object). Since, however, we
|
||
laid the foundation of all practical law in an object determined by
|
||
our conceptions of good and evil, whereas without a previous law
|
||
that object could not be conceived by empirical concepts, we have
|
||
deprived ourselves beforehand of the possibility of even conceiving
|
||
a pure practical law. On the other hand, if we had first
|
||
investigated the latter analytically, we should have found that it
|
||
is not the concept of good as an object that determines the moral
|
||
law and makes it possible, but that, on the contrary, it is the
|
||
moral law that first determines the concept of good and makes it
|
||
possible, so far as it deserves the name of good absolutely.
|
||
This remark, which only concerns the method of ultimate ethical
|
||
inquiries, is of importance. It explains at once the occasion of all
|
||
the mistakes of philosophers with respect to the supreme principle
|
||
of morals. For they sought for an object of the will which they
|
||
could make the matter and principle of a law (which consequently could
|
||
not determine the will directly, but by means of that object
|
||
referred to the feeling of pleasure or pain; whereas they ought
|
||
first to have searched for a law that would determine the will a
|
||
priori and directly, and afterwards determine the object in accordance
|
||
with the will). Now, whether they placed this object of pleasure,
|
||
which was to supply the supreme conception of goodness, in
|
||
happiness, in perfection, in moral [feeling], or in the will of God,
|
||
their principle in every case implied heteronomy, and they must
|
||
inevitably come upon empirical conditions of a moral law, since
|
||
their object, which was to be the immediate principle of the will,
|
||
could not be called good or bad except in its immediate relation to
|
||
feeling, which is always empirical. It is only a formal law- that
|
||
is, one which prescribes to reason nothing more than the form of its
|
||
universal legislation as the supreme condition of its maxims- that can
|
||
be a priori a determining principle of practical reason. The
|
||
ancients avowed this error without concealment by directing all
|
||
their moral inquiries to the determination of the notion of the summum
|
||
bonum, which they intended afterwards to make the determining
|
||
principle of the will in the moral law; whereas it is only far
|
||
later, when the moral law has been first established for itself, and
|
||
shown to be the direct determining principle of the will, that this
|
||
object can be presented to the will, whose form is now determined a
|
||
priori; and this we shall undertake in the Dialectic of the pure
|
||
practical reason. The moderns, with whom the question of the summum
|
||
bonum has gone out of fashion, or at least seems to have become a
|
||
secondary matter, hide the same error under vague (expressions as in
|
||
many other cases). It shows itself, nevertheless, in their systems, as
|
||
it always produces heteronomy of practical reason; and from this can
|
||
never be derived a moral law giving universal commands.
|
||
Now, since the notions of good and evil, as consequences of the a
|
||
priori determination of the will, imply also a pure practical
|
||
principle, and therefore a causality of pure reason; hence they do not
|
||
originally refer to objects (so as to be, for instance, special
|
||
modes of the synthetic unity of the manifold of given intuitions in
|
||
one consciousness) like the pure concepts of the understanding or
|
||
categories of reason in its theoretic employment; on the contrary,
|
||
they presuppose that objects are given; but they are all modes
|
||
(modi) of a single category, namely, that of causality, the
|
||
determining principle of which consists in the rational conception
|
||
of a law, which as a law of freedom reason gives to itself, thereby
|
||
a priori proving itself practical. However, as the actions on the
|
||
one side come under a law which is not a physical law, but a law of
|
||
freedom, and consequently belong to the conduct of beings in and
|
||
consequently the consequently belong to the beings in the world of
|
||
intelligence, yet on the other side as events in the world of sense
|
||
they belong to phenomena; hence the determinations of a practical
|
||
reason are only possible in reference to the latter and, therefore, in
|
||
accordance with the categories of the understanding; not indeed with a
|
||
view to any theoretic employment of it, i.e., so as to bring the
|
||
manifold of (sensible) intuition under one consciousness a priori; but
|
||
only to subject the manifold of desires to the unity of
|
||
consciousness of a practical reason, giving it commands in the moral
|
||
law, i.e., to a pure will a priori.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 15}
|
||
These categories of freedom- for so we choose to call them in
|
||
contrast to those theoretic categories which are categories of
|
||
physical nature- have an obvious advantage over the latter, inasmuch
|
||
as the latter are only forms of thought which designate objects in
|
||
an indefinite manner by means of universal concept of every possible
|
||
intuition; the former, on the contrary, refer to the determination
|
||
of a free elective will (to which indeed no exactly corresponding
|
||
intuition can be assigned, but which has as its foundation a pure
|
||
practical a priori law, which is not the case with any concepts
|
||
belonging to the theoretic use of our cognitive faculties); hence,
|
||
instead of the form of intuition (space and time), which does not
|
||
lie in reason itself, but has to be drawn from another source, namely,
|
||
the sensibility, these being elementary practical concepts have as
|
||
their foundation the form of a pure will, which is given in reason
|
||
and, therefore, in the thinking faculty itself. From this it happens
|
||
that as all precepts of pure practical reason have to do only with the
|
||
determination of the will, not with the physical conditions (of
|
||
practical ability) of the execution of one's purpose, the practical
|
||
a priori principles in relation to the supreme principle of freedom
|
||
are at once cognitions, and have not to wait for intuitions in order
|
||
to acquire significance, and that for this remarkable reason,
|
||
because they themselves produce the reality of that to which they
|
||
refer (the intention of the will), which is not the case with
|
||
theoretical concepts. Only we must be careful to observe that these
|
||
categories only apply to the practical reason; and thus they proceed
|
||
in order from those which are as yet subject to sensible conditions
|
||
and morally indeterminate to those which are free from sensible
|
||
conditions and determined merely by the moral law.
|
||
-
|
||
Table of the Categories of Freedom relatively to the Notions of Good
|
||
and Evil.
|
||
-
|
||
I. QUANTITY.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 20}
|
||
Subjective, according to maxims (practical opinions of the
|
||
individual)
|
||
Objective, according to principles (Precepts)
|
||
A priori both objective and subjective principles of freedom
|
||
(laws)
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 25}
|
||
-
|
||
II. QUALITY.
|
||
Practical rules of action (praeceptivae)
|
||
Practical rules of omission (prohibitivae)
|
||
Practical rules of exceptions (exceptivae)
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 30}
|
||
-
|
||
III. RELATION.
|
||
To personality To the condition of the person.
|
||
Reciprocal, of one person to the others of the others.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 35}
|
||
IV. MODALITY.
|
||
The Permitted and the Forbidden
|
||
Duty and the contrary to duty.
|
||
Perfect and imperfect duty.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 40}
|
||
It will at once be observed that in this table freedom is considered
|
||
as a sort of causality not subject to empirical principles of
|
||
determination, in regard to actions possible by it, which are
|
||
phenomena in the world of sense, and that consequently it is
|
||
referred to the categories which concern its physical possibility,
|
||
whilst yet each category is taken so universally that the
|
||
determining principle of that causality can be placed outside the
|
||
world of sense in freedom as a property of a being in the world of
|
||
intelligence; and finally the categories of modality introduce the
|
||
transition from practical principles generally to those of morality,
|
||
but only problematically. These can be established dogmatically only
|
||
by the moral law.
|
||
I add nothing further here in explanation of the present table,
|
||
since it is intelligible enough of itself. A division of this kind
|
||
based on principles is very useful in any science, both for the sake
|
||
of thoroughness and intelligibility. Thus, for instance, we know
|
||
from the preceding table and its first number what we must begin
|
||
from in practical inquiries; namely, from the maxims which every one
|
||
founds on his own inclinations; the precepts which hold for a
|
||
species of rational beings so far as they agree in certain
|
||
inclinations; and finally the law which holds for all without regard
|
||
to their inclinations, etc. In this way we survey the whole plan of
|
||
what has to be done, every question of practical philosophy that has
|
||
to be answered, and also the order that is to be followed.
|
||
-
|
||
Of the Typic of the Pure Practical Judgement.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 45}
|
||
It is the notions of good and evil that first determine an object of
|
||
the will. They themselves, however, are subject to a practical rule of
|
||
reason which, if it is pure reason, determines the will a priori
|
||
relatively to its object. Now, whether an action which is possible
|
||
to us in the world of sense, comes under the rule or not, is a
|
||
question to be decided by the practical judgement, by which what is
|
||
said in the rule universally (in abstracto) is applied to an action in
|
||
concreto. But since a practical rule of pure reason in the first place
|
||
as practical concerns the existence of an object, and in the second
|
||
place as a practical rule of pure reason implies necessity as
|
||
regards the existence of the action and, therefore, is a practical
|
||
law, not a physical law depending on empirical principles of
|
||
determination, but a law of freedom by which the will is to be
|
||
determined independently on anything empirical (merely by the
|
||
conception of a law and its form), whereas all instances that can
|
||
occur of possible actions can only be empirical, that is, belong to
|
||
the experience of physical nature; hence, it seems absurd to expect to
|
||
find in the world of sense a case which, while as such it depends only
|
||
on the law of nature, yet admits of the application to it of a law
|
||
of freedom, and to which we can apply the supersensible idea of the
|
||
morally good which is to be exhibited in it in concreto. Thus, the
|
||
judgement of the pure practical reason is subject to the same
|
||
difficulties as that of the pure theoretical reason. The latter,
|
||
however, had means at hand of escaping from these difficulties,
|
||
because, in regard to the theoretical employment, intuitions were
|
||
required to which pure concepts of the understanding could be applied,
|
||
and such intuitions (though only of objects of the senses) can be
|
||
given a priori and, therefore, as far as regards the union of the
|
||
manifold in them, conforming to the pure a priori concepts of the
|
||
understanding as schemata. On the other hand, the morally good is
|
||
something whose object is supersensible; for which, therefore, nothing
|
||
corresponding can be found in any sensible intuition. Judgement
|
||
depending on laws of pure practical reason seems, therefore, to be
|
||
subject to special difficulties arising from this, that a law of
|
||
freedom is to be applied to actions, which are events taking place
|
||
in the world of sense, and which, so far, belong to physical nature.
|
||
But here again is opened a favourable prospect for the pure
|
||
practical judgement. When I subsume under a pure practical law an
|
||
action possible to me in the world of sense, I am not concerned with
|
||
the possibility of the action as an event in the world of sense.
|
||
This is a matter that belongs to the decision of reason in its
|
||
theoretic use according to the law of causality, which is a pure
|
||
concept of the understanding, for which reason has a schema in the
|
||
sensible intuition. Physical causality, or the condition under which
|
||
it takes place, belongs to the physical concepts, the schema of
|
||
which is sketched by transcendental imagination. Here, however, we
|
||
have to do, not with the schema of a case that occurs according to
|
||
laws, but with the schema of a law itself (if the word is allowable
|
||
here), since the fact that the will (not the action relatively to
|
||
its effect) is determined by the law alone without any other
|
||
principle, connects the notion of causality with quite different
|
||
conditions from those which constitute physical connection.
|
||
The physical law being a law to which the objects of sensible
|
||
intuition, as such, are subject, must have a schema corresponding to
|
||
it- that is, a general procedure of the imagination (by which it
|
||
exhibits a priori to the senses the pure concept of the
|
||
understanding which the law determines). But the law of freedom
|
||
(that is, of a causality not subject to sensible conditions), and
|
||
consequently the concept of the unconditionally good, cannot have
|
||
any intuition, nor consequently any schema supplied to it for the
|
||
purpose of its application in concreto. Consequently the moral law has
|
||
no faculty but the understanding to aid its application to physical
|
||
objects (not the imagination); and the understanding for the
|
||
purposes of the judgement can provide for an idea of the reason, not a
|
||
schema of the sensibility, but a law, though only as to its form as
|
||
law; such a law, however, as can be exhibited in concreto in objects
|
||
of the senses, and therefore a law of nature. We can therefore call
|
||
this law the type of the moral law.
|
||
The rule of the judgement according to laws of pure practical reason
|
||
is this: ask yourself whether, if the action you propose were to
|
||
take place by a law of the system of nature of which you were yourself
|
||
a part, you could regard it as possible by your own will. Everyone
|
||
does, in fact, decide by this rule whether actions are morally good or
|
||
evil. Thus, people say: "If everyone permitted himself to deceive,
|
||
when he thought it to his advantage; or thought himself justified in
|
||
shortening his life as soon as he was thoroughly weary of it; or
|
||
looked with perfect indifference on the necessity of others; and if
|
||
you belonged to such an order of things, would you do so with the
|
||
assent of your own will?" Now everyone knows well that if he
|
||
secretly allows himself to deceive, it does not follow that everyone
|
||
else does so; or if, unobserved, he is destitute of compassion, others
|
||
would not necessarily be so to him; hence, this comparison of the
|
||
maxim of his actions with a universal law of nature is not the
|
||
determining principle of his will. Such a law is, nevertheless, a type
|
||
of the estimation of the maxim on moral principles. If the maxim of
|
||
the action is not such as to stand the test of the form of a universal
|
||
law of nature, then it is morally impossible. This is the judgement
|
||
even of common sense; for its ordinary judgements, even those of
|
||
experience, are always based on the law of nature. It has it therefore
|
||
always at hand, only that in cases where causality from freedom is
|
||
to be criticised, it makes that law of nature only the type of a law
|
||
of freedom, because, without something which it could use as an
|
||
example in a case of experience, it could not give the law of a pure
|
||
practical reason its proper use in practice.
|
||
It is therefore allowable to use the system of the world of sense as
|
||
the type of a supersensible system of things, provided I do not
|
||
transfer to the latter the intuitions, and what depends on them, but
|
||
merely apply to it the form of law in general (the notion of which
|
||
occurs even in the commonest use of reason, but cannot be definitely
|
||
known a priori for any other purpose than the pure practical use of
|
||
reason); for laws, as such, are so far identical, no matter from
|
||
what they derive their determining principles.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 50}
|
||
Further, since of all the supersensible absolutely nothing [is
|
||
known] except freedom (through the moral law), and this only so far as
|
||
it is inseparably implied in that law, and moreover all
|
||
supersensible objects to which reason might lead us, following the
|
||
guidance of that law, have still no reality for us, except for the
|
||
purpose of that law, and for the use of mere practical reason; and
|
||
as reason is authorized and even compelled to use physical nature
|
||
(in its pure form as an object of the understanding) as the type of
|
||
the judgement; hence, the present remark will serve to guard against
|
||
reckoning amongst concepts themselves that which belongs only to the
|
||
typic of concepts. This, namely, as a typic of the judgement, guards
|
||
against the empiricism of practical reason, which founds the practical
|
||
notions of good and evil merely on experienced consequences (so-called
|
||
happiness). No doubt happiness and the infinite advantages which would
|
||
result from a will determined by self-love, if this will at the same
|
||
time erected itself into a universal law of nature, may certainly
|
||
serve as a perfectly suitable type of the morally good, but it is
|
||
not identical with it. The same typic guards also against the
|
||
mysticism of practical reason, which turns what served only as a
|
||
symbol into a schema, that is, proposes to provide for the moral
|
||
concepts actual intuitions, which, however, are not sensible
|
||
(intuitions of an invisible Kingdom of God), and thus plunges into the
|
||
transcendent. What is befitting the use of the moral concepts is
|
||
only the rationalism of the judgement, which takes from the sensible
|
||
system of nature only what pure reason can also conceive of itself,
|
||
that is, conformity to law, and transfers into the supersensible
|
||
nothing but what can conversely be actually exhibited by actions in
|
||
the world of sense according to the formal rule of a law of nature.
|
||
However, the caution against empiricism of practical reason is much
|
||
more important; for mysticism is quite reconcilable with the purity
|
||
and sublimity of the moral law, and, besides, it is not very natural
|
||
or agreeable to common habits of thought to strain one's imagination
|
||
to supersensible intuitions; and hence the danger on this side is
|
||
not so general. Empiricism, on the contrary, cuts up at the roots
|
||
the morality of intentions (in which, and not in actions only,
|
||
consists the high worth that men can and ought to give to themselves),
|
||
and substitutes for duty something quite different, namely, an
|
||
empirical interest, with which the inclinations generally are secretly
|
||
leagued; and empiricism, moreover, being on this account allied with
|
||
all the inclinations which (no matter what fashion they put on)
|
||
degrade humanity when they are raised to the dignity of a supreme
|
||
practical principle; and as these, nevertheless, are so favourable
|
||
to everyone's feelings, it is for that reason much more dangerous than
|
||
mysticism, which can never constitute a lasting condition of any great
|
||
number of persons.
|
||
|
||
BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3
|
||
CHAPTER III. Of the Motives of Pure Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
What is essential in the moral worth of actions is that the moral
|
||
law should directly determine the will. If the determination of the
|
||
will takes place in conformity indeed to the moral law, but only by
|
||
means of a feeling, no matter of what kind, which has to be
|
||
presupposed in order that the law may be sufficient to determine the
|
||
will, and therefore not for the sake of the law, then the action
|
||
will possess legality, but not morality. Now, if we understand by
|
||
motive (elater animi) the subjective ground of determination of the
|
||
will of a being whose reason does not necessarily conform to the
|
||
objective law, by virtue of its own nature, then it will follow,
|
||
first, that not motives can be attributed to the Divine will, and that
|
||
the motives of the human will (as well as that of every created
|
||
rational being) can never be anything else than the moral law, and
|
||
consequently that the objective principle of determination must always
|
||
and alone be also the subjectively sufficient determining principle of
|
||
the action, if this is not merely to fulfil the letter of the law,
|
||
without containing its spirit.*
|
||
-
|
||
*We may say of every action that conforms to the law, but is not
|
||
done for the sake of the law, that it is morally good in the letter,
|
||
not in the spirit (the intention).
|
||
-
|
||
Since, then, for the purpose of giving the moral law influence
|
||
over the will, we must not seek for any other motives that might
|
||
enable us to dispense with the motive of the law itself, because
|
||
that would produce mere hypocrisy, without consistency; and it is even
|
||
dangerous to allow other motives (for instance, that of interest) even
|
||
to co-operate along with the moral law; hence nothing is left us but
|
||
to determine carefully in what way the moral law becomes a motive, and
|
||
what effect this has upon the faculty of desire. For as to the
|
||
question how a law can be directly and of itself a determining
|
||
principle of the will (which is the essence of morality), this is, for
|
||
human reason, an insoluble problem and identical with the question:
|
||
how a free will is possible. Therefore what we have to show a priori
|
||
is not why the moral law in itself supplies a motive, but what
|
||
effect it, as such, produces (or, more correctly speaking, must
|
||
produce) on the mind.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 5}
|
||
The essential point in every determination of the will by the
|
||
moral law is that being a free will it is determined simply by the
|
||
moral law, not only without the co-operation of sensible impulses, but
|
||
even to the rejection of all such, and to the checking of all
|
||
inclinations so far as they might be opposed to that law. So far,
|
||
then, the effect of the moral law as a motive is only negative, and
|
||
this motive can be known a priori to be such. For all inclination
|
||
and every sensible impulse is founded on feeling, and the negative
|
||
effect produced on feeling (by the check on the inclinations) is
|
||
itself feeling; consequently, we can see a priori that the moral
|
||
law, as a determining principle of the will, must by thwarting all our
|
||
inclinations produce a feeling which may be called pain; and in this
|
||
we have the first, perhaps the only, instance in which we are able
|
||
from a priori considerations to determine the relation of a
|
||
cognition (in this case of pure practical reason) to the feeling of
|
||
pleasure or displeasure. All the inclinations together (which can be
|
||
reduced to a tolerable system, in which case their satisfaction is
|
||
called happiness) constitute self-regard (solipsismus). This is either
|
||
the self-love that consists in an excessive fondness for oneself
|
||
(philautia), or satisfaction with oneself (arrogantia). The former
|
||
is called particularly selfishness; the latter self-conceit. Pure
|
||
practical reason only checks selfishness, looking on it as natural and
|
||
active in us even prior to the moral law, so far as to limit it to the
|
||
condition of agreement with this law, and then it is called rational
|
||
self-love. But self-conceit reason strikes down altogether, since
|
||
all claims to self-esteem which precede agreement with the moral law
|
||
are vain and unjustifiable, for the certainty of a state of mind
|
||
that coincides with this law is the first condition of personal
|
||
worth (as we shall presently show more clearly), and prior to this
|
||
conformity any pretension to worth is false and unlawful. Now the
|
||
propensity to self-esteem is one of the inclinations which the moral
|
||
law checks, inasmuch as that esteem rests only on morality.
|
||
Therefore the moral law breaks down self-conceit. But as this law is
|
||
something positive in itself, namely, the form of an intellectual
|
||
causality, that is, of freedom, it must be an object of respect;
|
||
for, by opposing the subjective antagonism of the inclinations, it
|
||
weakens self-conceit; and since it even breaks down, that is,
|
||
humiliates, this conceit, it is an object of the highest respect
|
||
and, consequently, is the foundation of a positive feeling which is
|
||
not of empirical origin, but is known a priori. Therefore respect
|
||
for the moral law is a feeling which is produced by an intellectual
|
||
cause, and this feeling is the only one that we know quite a priori
|
||
and the necessity of which we can perceive.
|
||
In the preceding chapter we have seen that everything that
|
||
presents itself as an object of the will prior to the moral law is
|
||
by that law itself, which is the supreme condition of practical
|
||
reason, excluded from the determining principles of the will which
|
||
we have called the unconditionally good; and that the mere practical
|
||
form which consists in the adaptation of the maxims to universal
|
||
legislation first determines what is good in itself and absolutely,
|
||
and is the basis of the maxims of a pure will, which alone is good
|
||
in every respect. However, we find that our nature as sensible
|
||
beings is such that the matter of desire (objects of inclination,
|
||
whether of hope or fear) first presents itself to us; and our
|
||
pathologically affected self, although it is in its maxims quite unfit
|
||
for universal legislation; yet, just as if it constituted our entire
|
||
self, strives to put its pretensions forward first, and to have them
|
||
acknowledged as the first and original. This propensity to make
|
||
ourselves in the subjective determining principles of our choice serve
|
||
as the objective determining principle of the will generally may be
|
||
called self-love; and if this pretends to be legislative as an
|
||
unconditional practical principle it may be called self-conceit. Now
|
||
the moral law, which alone is truly objective (namely, in every
|
||
respect), entirely excludes the influence of self-love on the
|
||
supreme practical principle, and indefinitely checks the
|
||
self-conceit that prescribes the subjective conditions of the former
|
||
as laws. Now whatever checks our self-conceit in our own judgement
|
||
humiliates; therefore the moral law inevitably humbles every man
|
||
when he compares with it the physical propensities of his nature.
|
||
That, the idea of which as a determining principle of our will humbles
|
||
us in our self-consciousness, awakes respect for itself, so far as
|
||
it is itself positive and a determining principle. Therefore the moral
|
||
law is even subjectively a cause of respect. Now since everything that
|
||
enters into self-love belongs to inclination, and all inclination
|
||
rests on feelings, and consequently whatever checks all the feelings
|
||
together in self-love has necessarily, by this very circumstance, an
|
||
influence on feeling; hence we comprehend how it is possible to
|
||
perceive a priori that the moral law can produce an effect on feeling,
|
||
in that it excludes the inclinations and the propensity to make them
|
||
the supreme practical condition, i.e., self-love, from all
|
||
participation in the supreme legislation. This effect is on one side
|
||
merely negative, but on the other side, relatively to the
|
||
restricting principle of pure practical reason, it is positive. No
|
||
special kind of feeling need be assumed for this under the name of a
|
||
practical or moral feeling as antecedent to the moral law and
|
||
serving as its foundation.
|
||
The negative effect on feeling (unpleasantness) is pathological,
|
||
like every influence on feeling and like every feeling generally.
|
||
But as an effect of the consciousness of the moral law, and
|
||
consequently in relation to a supersensible cause, namely, the subject
|
||
of pure practical reason which is the supreme lawgiver, this feeling
|
||
of a rational being affected by inclinations is called humiliation
|
||
(intellectual self-depreciation); but with reference to the positive
|
||
source of this humiliation, the law, it is respect for it. There is
|
||
indeed no feeling for this law; but inasmuch as it removes the
|
||
resistance out of the way, this removal of an obstacle is, in the
|
||
judgement of reason, esteemed equivalent to a positive help to its
|
||
causality. Therefore this feeling may also be called a feeling of
|
||
respect for the moral law, and for both reasons together a moral
|
||
feeling.
|
||
While the moral law, therefore, is a formal determining principle of
|
||
action by practical pure reason, and is moreover a material though
|
||
only objective determining principle of the objects of action as
|
||
called good and evil, it is also a subjective determining principle,
|
||
that is, a motive to this action, inasmuch as it has influence on
|
||
the morality of the subject and produces a feeling conducive to the
|
||
influence of the law on the will. There is here in the subject no
|
||
antecedent feeling tending to morality. For this is impossible,
|
||
since every feeling is sensible, and the motive of moral intention
|
||
must be free from all sensible conditions. On the contrary, while
|
||
the sensible feeling which is at the bottom of all our inclinations is
|
||
the condition of that impression which we call respect, the cause that
|
||
determines it lies in the pure practical reason; and this impression
|
||
therefore, on account of its origin, must be called, not a
|
||
pathological but a practical effect. For by the fact that the
|
||
conception of the moral law deprives self-love of its influence, and
|
||
self-conceit of its illusion, it lessens the obstacle to pure
|
||
practical reason and produces the conception of the superiority of its
|
||
objective law to the impulses of the sensibility; and thus, by
|
||
removing the counterpoise, it gives relatively greater weight to the
|
||
law in the judgement of reason (in the case of a will affected by
|
||
the aforesaid impulses). Thus the respect for the law is not a
|
||
motive to morality, but is morality itself subjectively considered
|
||
as a motive, inasmuch as pure practical reason, by rejecting all the
|
||
rival pretensions of selflove, gives authority to the law, which now
|
||
alone has influence. Now it is to be observed that as respect is an
|
||
effect on feeling, and therefore on the sensibility, of a rational
|
||
being, it presupposes this sensibility, and therefore also the
|
||
finiteness of such beings on whom the moral law imposes respect; and
|
||
that respect for the law cannot be attributed to a supreme being, or
|
||
to any being free from all sensibility, in whom, therefore, this
|
||
sensibility cannot be an obstacle to practical reason.
|
||
This feeling (which we call the moral feeling) is therefore produced
|
||
simply by reason. It does not serve for the estimation of actions
|
||
nor for the foundation of the objective moral law itself, but merely
|
||
as a motive to make this of itself a maxim. But what name could we
|
||
more suitably apply to this singular feeling which cannot be
|
||
compared to any pathological feeling? It is of such a peculiar kind
|
||
that it seems to be at the disposal of reason only, and that pure
|
||
practical reason.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 10}
|
||
Respect applies always to persons only- not to things. The latter
|
||
may arouse inclination, and if they are animals (e.g., horses, dogs,
|
||
etc.), even love or fear, like the sea, a volcano, a beast of prey;
|
||
but never respect. Something that comes nearer to this feeling is
|
||
admiration, and this, as an affection, astonishment, can apply to
|
||
things also, e.g., lofty mountains, the magnitude, number, and
|
||
distance of the heavenly bodies, the strength and swiftness of many
|
||
animals, etc. But all this is not respect. A man also may be an object
|
||
to me of love, fear, or admiration, even to astonishment, and yet
|
||
not be an object of respect. His jocose humour, his courage and
|
||
strength, his power from the rank be has amongst others, may inspire
|
||
me with sentiments of this kind, but still inner respect for him is
|
||
wanting. Fontenelle says, "I bow before a great man, but my mind
|
||
does not bow." I would add, before an humble plain man, in whom I
|
||
perceive uprightness of character in a higher degree than I am
|
||
conscious of in myself,- my mind bows whether I choose it or not,
|
||
and though I bear my head never so high that he may not forget my
|
||
superior rank. Why is this? Because his example exhibits to me a law
|
||
that humbles my self-conceit when I compare it with my conduct: a law,
|
||
the practicability of obedience to which I see proved by fact before
|
||
my eyes. Now, I may even be conscious of a like degree of uprightness,
|
||
and yet the respect remains. For since in man all good is defective,
|
||
the law made visible by an example still humbles my pride, my standard
|
||
being furnished by a man whose imperfections, whatever they may be,
|
||
are not known to me as my own are, and who therefore appears to me
|
||
in a more favourable light. Respect is a tribute which we cannot
|
||
refuse to merit, whether we will or not; we may indeed outwardly
|
||
withhold it, but we cannot help feeling it inwardly.
|
||
Respect is so far from being a feeling of pleasure that we only
|
||
reluctantly give way to it as regards a man. We try to find out
|
||
something that may lighten the burden of it, some fault to
|
||
compensate us for the humiliation which such which such an example
|
||
causes. Even the dead are not always secure from this criticism,
|
||
especially if their example appears inimitable. Even the moral law
|
||
itself in its solemn majesty is exposed to this endeavour to save
|
||
oneself from yielding it respect. Can it be thought that it is for any
|
||
other reason that we are so ready to reduce it to the level of our
|
||
familiar inclination, or that it is for any other reason that we all
|
||
take such trouble to make it out to be the chosen precept of our own
|
||
interest well understood, but that we want to be free from the
|
||
deterrent respect which shows us our own unworthiness with such
|
||
severity? Nevertheless, on the other hand, so little is there pain
|
||
in it that if once one has laid aside self-conceit and allowed
|
||
practical influence to that respect, he can never be satisfied with
|
||
contemplating the majesty of this law, and the soul believes itself
|
||
elevated in proportion as it sees the holy law elevated above it and
|
||
its frail nature. No doubt great talents and activity proportioned
|
||
to them may also occasion respect or an analogous feeling. It is
|
||
very proper to yield it to them, and then it appears as if this
|
||
sentiment were the same thing as admiration. But if we look closer
|
||
we shall observe that it is always uncertain how much of the ability
|
||
is due to native talent, and how much to diligence in cultivating
|
||
it. Reason represents it to us as probably the fruit of cultivation,
|
||
and therefore as meritorious, and this notably reduces our
|
||
self-conceit, and either casts a reproach on us or urges us to
|
||
follow such an example in the way that is suitable to us. This
|
||
respect, then, which we show to such a person (properly speaking, to
|
||
the law that his example exhibits) is not mere admiration; and this is
|
||
confirmed also by the fact that when the common run of admirers
|
||
think they have learned from any source the badness of such a man's
|
||
character (for instance Voltaire's) they give up all respect for
|
||
him; whereas the true scholar still feels it at least with regard to
|
||
his talents, because he is himself engaged in a business and a
|
||
vocation which make imitation of such a man in some degree a law.
|
||
Respect for the moral law is, therefore, the only and the
|
||
undoubted moral motive, and this feeling is directed to no object,
|
||
except on the ground of this law. The moral law first determines the
|
||
will objectively and directly in the judgement of reason; and freedom,
|
||
whose causality can be determined only by the law, consists just in
|
||
this, that it restricts all inclinations, and consequently
|
||
self-esteem, by the condition of obedience to its pure law. This
|
||
restriction now has an effect on feeling, and produces the
|
||
impression of displeasure which can be known a priori from the moral
|
||
law. Since it is so far only a negative effect which, arising from the
|
||
influence of pure practical reason, checks the activity of the
|
||
subject, so far as it is determined by inclinations, and hence
|
||
checks the opinion of his personal worth (which, in the absence of
|
||
agreement with the moral law, is reduced to nothing); hence, the
|
||
effect of this law on feeling is merely humiliation. We can,
|
||
therefore, perceive this a priori, but cannot know by it the force
|
||
of the pure practical law as a motive, but only the resistance to
|
||
motives of the sensibility. But since the same law is objectively,
|
||
that is, in the conception of pure reason, an immediate principle of
|
||
determination of the will, and consequently this humiliation takes
|
||
place only relatively to the purity of the law; hence, the lowering of
|
||
the pretensions of moral self-esteem, that is, humiliation on the
|
||
sensible side, is an elevation of the moral, i.e., practical, esteem
|
||
for the law itself on the intellectual side; in a word, it is
|
||
respect for the law, and therefore, as its cause is intellectual, a
|
||
positive feeling which can be known a priori. For whatever
|
||
diminishes the obstacles to an activity furthers this activity itself.
|
||
Now the recognition of the moral law is the consciousness of an
|
||
activity of practical reason from objective principles, which only
|
||
fails to reveal its effect in actions because subjective
|
||
(pathological) causes hinder it. Respect for the moral law then must
|
||
be regarded as a positive, though indirect, effect of it on feeling,
|
||
inasmuch as this respect weakens the impeding influence of
|
||
inclinations by humiliating selfesteem; and hence also as a subjective
|
||
principle of activity, that is, as a motive to obedience to the law,
|
||
and as a principle of the maxims of a life conformable to it. From the
|
||
notion of a motive arises that of an interest, which can never be
|
||
attributed to any being unless it possesses reason, and which
|
||
signifies a motive of the will in so far as it is conceived by the
|
||
reason. Since in a morally good will the law itself must be the
|
||
motive, the moral interest is a pure interest of practical reason
|
||
alone, independent of sense. On the notion of an interest is based
|
||
that of a maxim. This, therefore, is morally good only in case it
|
||
rests simply on the interest taken in obedience to the law. All
|
||
three notions, however, that of a motive, of an interest, and of a
|
||
maxim, can be applied only to finite beings. For they all suppose a
|
||
limitation of the nature of the being, in that the subjective
|
||
character of his choice does not of itself agree with the objective
|
||
law of a practical reason; they suppose that the being requires to
|
||
be impelled to action by something, because an internal obstacle
|
||
opposes itself. Therefore they cannot be applied to the Divine will.
|
||
There is something so singular in the unbounded esteem for the
|
||
pure moral law, apart from all advantage, as it is presented for our
|
||
obedience by practical reason, the voice of which makes even the
|
||
boldest sinner tremble and compels him to hide himself from it, that
|
||
we cannot wonder if we find this influence of a mere intellectual idea
|
||
on the feelings quite incomprehensible to speculative reason and
|
||
have to be satisfied with seeing so much of this a priori that such
|
||
a feeling is inseparably connected with the conception of the moral
|
||
law in every finite rational being. If this feeling of respect were
|
||
pathological, and therefore were a feeling of pleasure based on the
|
||
inner sense, it would be in vain to try to discover a connection of it
|
||
with any idea a priori. But [it] is a feeling that applies merely to
|
||
what is practical, and depends on the conception of a law, simply as
|
||
to its form, not on account of any object, and therefore cannot be
|
||
reckoned either as pleasure or pain, and yet produces an interest in
|
||
obedience to the law, which we call the moral interest, just as the
|
||
capacity of taking such an interest in the law (or respect for the
|
||
moral law itself) is properly the moral feeling.
|
||
The consciousness of a free submission of the will to the law, yet
|
||
combined with an inevitable constraint put upon all inclinations,
|
||
though only by our own reason, is respect for the law. The law that
|
||
demands this respect and inspires it is clearly no other than the
|
||
moral (for no other precludes all inclinations from exercising any
|
||
direct influence on the will). An action which is objectively
|
||
practical according to this law, to the exclusion of every determining
|
||
principle of inclination, is duty, and this by reason of that
|
||
exclusion includes in its concept practical obligation, that is, a
|
||
determination to actions, however reluctantly they may be done. The
|
||
feeling that arises from the consciousness of this obligation is not
|
||
pathological, as would be a feeling produced by an object of the
|
||
senses, but practical only, that is, it is made possible by a
|
||
preceding (objective) determination of the will and a causality of the
|
||
reason. As submission to the law, therefore, that is, as a command
|
||
(announcing constraint for the sensibly affected subject), it contains
|
||
in it no pleasure, but on the contrary, so far, pain in the action. On
|
||
the other hand, however, as this constraint is exercised merely by the
|
||
legislation of our own reason, it also contains something elevating,
|
||
and this subjective effect on feeling, inasmuch as pure practical
|
||
reason is the sole cause of it, may be called in this respect
|
||
self-approbation, since we recognize ourselves as determined thereto
|
||
solely by the law without any interest, and are now conscious of a
|
||
quite different interest subjectively produced thereby, and which is
|
||
purely practical and free; and our taking this interest in an action
|
||
of duty is not suggested by any inclination, but is commanded and
|
||
actually brought about by reason through the practical law; whence
|
||
this feeling obtains a special name, that of respect.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 15}
|
||
The notion of duty, therefore, requires in the action,
|
||
objectively, agreement with the law, and, subjectively in its maxim,
|
||
that respect for the law shall be the sole mode in which the will is
|
||
determined thereby. And on this rests the distinction between the
|
||
consciousness of having acted according to duty and from duty, that
|
||
is, from respect for the law. The former (legality) is possible even
|
||
if inclinations have been the determining principles of the will;
|
||
but the latter (morality), moral worth, can be placed only in this,
|
||
that the action is done from duty, that is, simply for the sake of the
|
||
law.*
|
||
-
|
||
*If we examine accurately the notion of respect for persons as it
|
||
has been already laid down, we shall perceive that it always rests
|
||
on the consciousness of a duty which an example shows us, and that
|
||
respect, therefore. can never have any but a moral ground, and that it
|
||
is very good and even, in a psychological point of view, very useful
|
||
for the knowledge of mankind, that whenever we use this expression
|
||
we should attend to this secret and marvellous, yet often recurring,
|
||
regard which men in their judgement pay to the moral law.
|
||
-
|
||
It is of the greatest importance to attend with the utmost exactness
|
||
in all moral judgements to the subjective principle of all maxims,
|
||
that all the morality of actions may be placed in the necessity of
|
||
acting from duty and from respect for the law, not from love and
|
||
inclination for that which the actions are to produce. For men and all
|
||
created rational beings moral necessity is constraint, that is
|
||
obligation, and every action based on it is to be conceived as a duty,
|
||
not as a proceeding previously pleasing, or likely to be Pleasing to
|
||
us of our own accord. As if indeed we could ever bring it about that
|
||
without respect for the law, which implies fear, or at least
|
||
apprehension of transgression, we of ourselves, like the independent
|
||
Deity, could ever come into possession of holiness of will by the
|
||
coincidence of our will with the pure moral law becoming as it were
|
||
part of our nature, never to be shaken (in which case the law would
|
||
cease to be a command for us, as we could never be tempted to be
|
||
untrue to it).
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 20}
|
||
The moral law is in fact for the will of a perfect being a law of
|
||
holiness, but for the will of every finite rational being a law of
|
||
duty, of moral constraint, and of the determination of its actions
|
||
by respect for this law and reverence for its duty. No other
|
||
subjective principle must be assumed as a motive, else while the
|
||
action might chance to be such as the law prescribes, yet, as does not
|
||
proceed from duty, the intention, which is the thing properly in
|
||
question in this legislation, is not moral.
|
||
It is a very beautiful thing to do good to men from love to them and
|
||
from sympathetic good will, or to be just from love of order; but this
|
||
is not yet the true moral maxim of our conduct which is suitable to
|
||
our position amongst rational beings as men, when we pretend with
|
||
fanciful pride to set ourselves above the thought of duty, like
|
||
volunteers, and, as if we were independent on the command, to want
|
||
to do of our own good pleasure what we think we need no command to do.
|
||
We stand under a discipline of reason and in all our maxims must not
|
||
forget our subjection to it, nor withdraw anything therefrom, or by an
|
||
egotistic presumption diminish aught of the authority of the law
|
||
(although our own reason gives it) so as to set the determining
|
||
principle of our will, even though the law be conformed to, anywhere
|
||
else but in the law itself and in respect for this law. Duty and
|
||
obligation are the only names that we must give to our relation to the
|
||
moral law. We are indeed legislative members of a moral kingdom
|
||
rendered possible by freedom, and presented to us by reason as an
|
||
object of respect; but yet we are subjects in it, not the sovereign,
|
||
and to mistake our inferior position as creatures, and
|
||
presumptuously to reject the authority of the moral law, is already to
|
||
revolt from it in spirit, even though the letter of it is fulfilled.
|
||
With this agrees very well the possibility of such a command as:
|
||
Love God above everything, and thy neighbour as thyself.* For as a
|
||
command it requires respect for a law which commands love and does not
|
||
leave it to our own arbitrary choice to make this our principle.
|
||
Love to God, however, considered as an inclination (pathological
|
||
love), is impossible, for He is not an object of the senses. The
|
||
same affection towards men is possible no doubt, but cannot be
|
||
commanded, for it is not in the power of any man to love anyone at
|
||
command; therefore it is only practical love that is meant in that
|
||
pith of all laws. To love God means, in this sense, to like to do
|
||
His commandments; to love one's neighbour means to like to practise
|
||
all duties towards him. But the command that makes this a rule
|
||
cannot command us to have this disposition in actions conformed to
|
||
duty, but only to endeavour after it. For a command to like to do a
|
||
thing is in itself contradictory, because if we already know of
|
||
ourselves what we are bound to do, and if further we are conscious
|
||
of liking to do it, a command would be quite needless; and if we do it
|
||
not willingly, but only out of respect for the law, a command that
|
||
makes this respect the motive of our maxim would directly counteract
|
||
the disposition commanded. That law of all laws, therefore, like all
|
||
the moral precepts of the Gospel, exhibits the moral disposition in
|
||
all its perfection, in which, viewed as an ideal of holiness, it is
|
||
not attainable by any creature, but yet is the pattern which we should
|
||
strive to approach, and in an uninterrupted but infinite progress
|
||
become like to. In fact, if a rational creature could ever reach
|
||
this point, that he thoroughly likes to do all moral laws, this
|
||
would mean that there does not exist in him even the possibility of
|
||
a desire that would tempt him to deviate from them; for to overcome
|
||
such a desire always costs the subject some sacrifice and therefore
|
||
requires self-compulsion, that is, inward constraint to something that
|
||
one does not quite like to do; and no creature can ever reach this
|
||
stage of moral disposition. For, being a creature, and therefore
|
||
always dependent with respect to what be requires for complete
|
||
satisfaction, he can never be quite free from desires and
|
||
inclinations, and as these rest on physical causes, they can never
|
||
of themselves coincide with the moral law, the sources of which are
|
||
quite different; and therefore they make it necessary to found the
|
||
mental disposition of one's maxims on moral obligation, not on ready
|
||
inclination, but on respect, which demands obedience to the law,
|
||
even though one may not like it; not on love, which apprehends no
|
||
inward reluctance of the will towards the law. Nevertheless, this
|
||
latter, namely, love to the law (which would then cease to be a
|
||
command, and then morality, which would have passed subjectively
|
||
into holiness, would cease to be virtue) must be the constant though
|
||
unattainable goal of his endeavours. For in the case of what we highly
|
||
esteem, but yet (on account of the consciousness of our weakness)
|
||
dread, the increased facility of satisfying it changes the most
|
||
reverential awe into inclination, and respect into love; at least this
|
||
would be the perfection of a disposition devoted to the law, if it
|
||
were possible for a creature to attain it.
|
||
-
|
||
*This law is in striking contrast with the principle of private
|
||
happiness which some make the supreme principle of morality. This
|
||
would be expressed thus: Love thyself above everything, and God and
|
||
thy neighbour for thine own sake.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 25}
|
||
-
|
||
This reflection is intended not so much to clear up the
|
||
evangelical command just cited, in order to prevent religious
|
||
fanaticism in regard to love of God, but to define accurately the
|
||
moral disposition with regard directly to our duties towards men,
|
||
and to check, or if possible prevent, a merely moral fanaticism
|
||
which infects many persons. The stage of morality on which man (and,
|
||
as far as we can see, every rational creature) stands is respect for
|
||
the moral law. The disposition that he ought to have in obeying this
|
||
is to obey it from duty, not from spontaneous inclination, or from
|
||
an endeavour taken up from liking and unbidden; and this proper
|
||
moral condition in which he can always be is virtue, that is, moral
|
||
disposition militant, and not holiness in the fancied possession of
|
||
a perfect purity of the disposition of the will. It is nothing but
|
||
moral fanaticism and exaggerated self-conceit that is infused into the
|
||
mind by exhortation to actions as noble, sublime, and magnanimous,
|
||
by which men are led into the delusion that it is not duty, that is,
|
||
respect for the law, whose yoke (an easy yoke indeed, because reason
|
||
itself imposes it on us) they must bear, whether they like it or
|
||
not, that constitutes the determining principle of their actions,
|
||
and which always humbles them while they obey it; fancying that
|
||
those actions are expected from them, not from duty, but as pure
|
||
merit. For not only would they, in imitating such deeds from such a
|
||
principle, not have fulfilled the spirit of the law in the least,
|
||
which consists not in the legality of the action (without regard to
|
||
principle), but in the subjection of the mind to the law; not only
|
||
do they make the motives pathological (seated in sympathy or
|
||
self-love), not moral (in the law), but they produce in this way a
|
||
vain, high-flying, fantastic way of thinking, flattering themselves
|
||
with a spontaneous goodness of heart that needs neither spur nor
|
||
bridle, for which no command is needed, and thereby forgetting their
|
||
obligation, which they ought to think of rather than merit. Indeed
|
||
actions of others which are done with great sacrifice, and merely
|
||
for the sake of duty, may be praised as noble and sublime, but only so
|
||
far as there are traces which suggest that they were done wholly out
|
||
of respect for duty and not from excited feelings. If these,
|
||
however, are set before anyone as examples to be imitated, respect for
|
||
duty (which is the only true moral feeling) must be employed as the
|
||
motive- this severe holy precept which never allows our vain self-love
|
||
to dally with pathological impulses (however analogous they may be
|
||
to morality), and to take a pride in meritorious worth. Now if we
|
||
search we shall find for all actions that are worthy of praise a law
|
||
of duty which commands, and does not leave us to choose what may be
|
||
agreeable to our inclinations. This is the only way of representing
|
||
things that can give a moral training to the soul, because it alone is
|
||
capable of solid and accurately defined principles.
|
||
If fanaticism in its most general sense is a deliberate over
|
||
stepping of the limits of human reason, then moral fanaticism is
|
||
such an over stepping of the bounds that practical pure reason sets to
|
||
mankind, in that it forbids us to place the subjective determining
|
||
principle of correct actions, that is, their moral motive, in anything
|
||
but the law itself, or to place the disposition which is thereby
|
||
brought into the maxims in anything but respect for this law, and
|
||
hence commands us to take as the supreme vital principle of all
|
||
morality in men the thought of duty, which strikes down all
|
||
arrogance as well as vain self-love.
|
||
If this is so, it is not only writers of romance or sentimental
|
||
educators (although they may be zealous opponents of
|
||
sentimentalism), but sometimes even philosophers, nay, even the
|
||
severest of all, the Stoics, that have brought in moral fanaticism
|
||
instead of a sober but wise moral discipline, although the
|
||
fanaticism of the latter was more heroic, that of the former of an
|
||
insipid, effeminate character; and we may, without hypocrisy, say of
|
||
the moral teaching of the Gospel, that it first, by the purity of
|
||
its moral principle, and at the same time by its suitability to the
|
||
limitations of finite beings, brought all the good conduct of men
|
||
under the discipline of a duty plainly set before their eyes, which
|
||
does not permit them to indulge in dreams of imaginary moral
|
||
perfections; and that it also set the bounds of humility (that is,
|
||
self-knowledge) to self-conceit as well as to self-love, both which
|
||
are ready to mistake their limits.
|
||
Duty! Thou sublime and mighty name that dost embrace nothing
|
||
charming or insinuating, but requirest submission, and yet seekest not
|
||
to move the will by threatening aught that would arouse natural
|
||
aversion or terror, but merely holdest forth a law which of itself
|
||
finds entrance into the mind, and yet gains reluctant reverence
|
||
(though not always obedience), a law before which all inclinations are
|
||
dumb, even though they secretly counter-work it; what origin is
|
||
there worthy of thee, and where is to be found the root of thy noble
|
||
descent which proudly rejects all kindred with the inclinations; a
|
||
root to be derived from which is the indispensable condition of the
|
||
only worth which men can give themselves?
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 30}
|
||
It can be nothing less than a power which elevates man above himself
|
||
(as a part of the world of sense), a power which connects him with
|
||
an order of things that only the understanding can conceive, with a
|
||
world which at the same time commands the whole sensible world, and
|
||
with it the empirically determinable existence of man in time, as well
|
||
as the sum total of all ends (which totality alone suits such
|
||
unconditional practical laws as the moral). This power is nothing
|
||
but personality, that is, freedom and independence on the mechanism of
|
||
nature, yet, regarded also as a faculty of a being which is subject to
|
||
special laws, namely, pure practical laws given by its own reason;
|
||
so that the person as belonging to the sensible world is subject to
|
||
his own personality as belonging to the intelligible [supersensible]
|
||
world. It is then not to be wondered at that man, as belonging to both
|
||
worlds, must regard his own nature in reference to its second and
|
||
highest characteristic only with reverence, and its laws with the
|
||
highest respect.
|
||
On this origin are founded many expressions which designate the
|
||
worth of objects according to moral ideas. The moral law is holy
|
||
(inviolable). Man is indeed unholy enough, but he must regard humanity
|
||
in his own person as holy. In all creation every thing one chooses and
|
||
over which one has any power, may be used merely as means; man
|
||
alone, and with him every rational creature, is an end in himself.
|
||
By virtue of the autonomy of his freedom he is the subject of the
|
||
moral law, which is holy. just for this reason every will, even
|
||
every person's own individual will, in relation to itself, is
|
||
restricted to the condition of agreement with the autonomy of the
|
||
rational being, that is to say, that it is not to be subject to any
|
||
purpose which cannot accord with a law which might arise from the will
|
||
of the passive subject himself; the latter is, therefore, never to
|
||
be employed merely as means, but as itself also, concurrently, an end.
|
||
We justly attribute this condition even to the Divine will, with
|
||
regard to the rational beings in the world, which are His creatures,
|
||
since it rests on their personality, by which alone they are ends in
|
||
themselves.
|
||
This respect-inspiring idea of personality which sets before our
|
||
eyes the sublimity of our nature (in its higher aspect), while at
|
||
the same time it shows us the want of accord of our conduct with it
|
||
and thereby strikes down self-conceit, is even natural to the
|
||
commonest reason and easily observed. Has not every even moderately
|
||
honourable man sometimes found that, where by an otherwise inoffensive
|
||
lie he might either have withdrawn himself from an unpleasant
|
||
business, or even have procured some advantages for a loved and
|
||
well-deserving friend, he has avoided it solely lest he should despise
|
||
himself secretly in his own eyes? When an upright man is in the
|
||
greatest distress, which he might have avoided if he could only have
|
||
disregarded duty, is he not sustained by the consciousness that he has
|
||
maintained humanity in its proper dignity in his own person and
|
||
honoured it, that he has no reason to be ashamed of himself in his own
|
||
sight, or to dread the inward glance of self-examination? This
|
||
consolation is not happiness, it is not even the smallest part of
|
||
it, for no one would wish to have occasion for it, or would,
|
||
perhaps, even desire a life in such circumstances. But he lives, and
|
||
he cannot endure that he should be in his own eyes unworthy of life.
|
||
This inward peace is therefore merely negative as regards what can
|
||
make life pleasant; it is, in fact, only the escaping the danger of
|
||
sinking in personal worth, after everything else that is valuable
|
||
has been lost. It is the effect of a respect for something quite
|
||
different from life, something in comparison and contrast with which
|
||
life with all its enjoyment has no value. He still lives only
|
||
because it is his duty, not because he finds anything pleasant in
|
||
life.
|
||
Such is the nature of the true motive of pure practical reason; it
|
||
is no other than the pure moral law itself, inasmuch as it makes us
|
||
conscious of the sublimity of our own supersensible existence and
|
||
subjectively produces respect for their higher nature in men who are
|
||
also conscious of their sensible existence and of the consequent
|
||
dependence of their pathologically very susceptible nature. Now with
|
||
this motive may be combined so many charms and satisfactions of life
|
||
that even on this account alone the most prudent choice of a
|
||
rational Epicurean reflecting on the greatest advantage of life
|
||
would declare itself on the side of moral conduct, and it may even
|
||
be advisable to join this prospect of a cheerful enjoyment of life
|
||
with that supreme motive which is already sufficient of itself; but
|
||
only as a counterpoise to the attractions which vice does not fail
|
||
to exhibit on the opposite side, and not so as, even in the smallest
|
||
degree, to place in this the proper moving power when duty is in
|
||
question. For that would be just the same as to wish to taint the
|
||
purity of the moral disposition in its source. The majesty of duty has
|
||
nothing to do with enjoyment of life; it has its special law and its
|
||
special tribunal, and though the two should be never so well shaken
|
||
together to be given well mixed, like medicine, to the sick soul,
|
||
yet they will soon separate of themselves; and if they do not, the
|
||
former will not act; and although physical life might gain somewhat in
|
||
force, the moral life would fade away irrecoverably.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 35}
|
||
Critical Examination of the Analytic of Pure Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
By the critical examination of a science, or of a portion of it,
|
||
which constitutes a system by itself, I understand the inquiry and
|
||
proof why it must have this and no other systematic form, when we
|
||
compare it with another system which is based on a similar faculty
|
||
of knowledge. Now practical and speculative reason are based on the
|
||
same faculty, so far as both are pure reason. Therefore the difference
|
||
in their systematic form must be determined by the comparison of both,
|
||
and the ground of this must be assigned.
|
||
The Analytic of pure theoretic reason had to do with the knowledge
|
||
of such objects as may have been given to the understanding, and was
|
||
obliged therefore to begin from intuition and consequently (as this is
|
||
always sensible) from sensibility; and only after that could advance
|
||
to concepts (of the objects of this intuition), and could only end
|
||
with principles after both these had preceded. On the contrary,
|
||
since practical reason has not to do with objects so as to know
|
||
them, but with its own faculty of realizing them (in accordance with
|
||
the knowledge of them), that is, with a will which is a causality,
|
||
inasmuch as reason contains its determining principle; since,
|
||
consequently, it has not to furnish an object of intuition, but as
|
||
practical reason has to furnish only a law (because the notion of
|
||
causality always implies the reference to a law which determines the
|
||
existence of the many in relation to one another); hence a critical
|
||
examination of the Analytic of reason, if this is to be practical
|
||
reason (and this is properly the problem), must begin with the
|
||
possibility of practical principles a priori. Only after that can it
|
||
proceed to concepts of the objects of a practical reason, namely,
|
||
those of absolute good and evil, in order to assign them in accordance
|
||
with those principles (for prior to those principles they cannot
|
||
possibly be given as good and evil by any faculty of knowledge), and
|
||
only then could the section be concluded with the last chapter,
|
||
that, namely, which treats of the relation of the pure practical
|
||
reason to the sensibility and of its necessary influence thereon,
|
||
which is a priori cognisable, that is, of the moral sentiment. Thus
|
||
the Analytic of the practical pure reason has the whole extent of
|
||
the conditions of its use in common with the theoretical, but in
|
||
reverse order. The Analytic of pure theoretic reason was divided
|
||
into transcendental Aesthetic and transcendental Logic, that of the
|
||
practical reversely into Logic and Aesthetic of pure practical
|
||
reason (if I may, for the sake of analogy merely, use these
|
||
designations, which are not quite suitable). This logic again was
|
||
there divided into the Analytic of concepts and that of principles:
|
||
here into that of principles and concepts. The Aesthetic also had in
|
||
the former case two parts, on account of the two kinds of sensible
|
||
intuition; here the sensibility is not considered as a capacity of
|
||
intuition at all, but merely as feeling (which can be a subjective
|
||
ground of desire), and in regard to it pure practical reason admits no
|
||
further division.
|
||
It is also easy to see the reason why this division into two parts
|
||
with its subdivision was not actually adopted here (as one might
|
||
have been induced to attempt by the example of the former critique).
|
||
For since it is pure reason that is here considered in its practical
|
||
use, and consequently as proceeding from a priori principles, and
|
||
not from empirical principles of determination, hence the division
|
||
of the analytic of pure practical reason must resemble that of a
|
||
syllogism; namely, proceeding from the universal in the major
|
||
premiss (the moral principle), through a minor premiss containing a
|
||
subsumption of possible actions (as good or evil) under the former, to
|
||
the conclusion, namely, the subjective determination of the will (an
|
||
interest in the possible practical good, and in the maxim founded on
|
||
it). He who has been able to convince himself of the truth of the
|
||
positions occurring in the Analytic will take pleasure in such
|
||
comparisons; for they justly suggest the expectation that we may
|
||
perhaps some day be able to discern the unity of the whole faculty
|
||
of reason (theoretical as well as practical) and be able to derive all
|
||
from one principle, which, is what human reason inevitably demands, as
|
||
it finds complete satisfaction only in a perfectly systematic unity of
|
||
its knowledge.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 40}
|
||
If now we consider also the contents of the knowledge that we can
|
||
have of a pure practical reason, and by means of it, as shown by the
|
||
Analytic, we find, along with a remarkable analogy between it and
|
||
the theoretical, no less remarkable differences. As regards the
|
||
theoretical, the faculty of a pure rational cognition a priori could
|
||
be easily and evidently proved by examples from sciences (in which, as
|
||
they put their principles to the test in so many ways by methodical
|
||
use, there is not so much reason as in common knowledge to fear a
|
||
secret mixture of empirical principles of cognition). But, that pure
|
||
reason without the admixture of any empirical principle is practical
|
||
of itself, this could only be shown from the commonest practical use
|
||
of reason, by verifying the fact, that every man's natural reason
|
||
acknowledges the supreme practical principle as the supreme law of his
|
||
will- a law completely a priori and not depending on any sensible
|
||
data. It was necessary first to establish and verify the purity of its
|
||
origin, even in the judgement of this common reason, before science
|
||
could take it in hand to make use of it, as a fact, that is, prior
|
||
to all disputation about its possibility, and all the consequences
|
||
that may be drawn from it. But this circumstance may be readily
|
||
explained from what has just been said; because practical pure
|
||
reason must necessarily begin with principles, which therefore must be
|
||
the first data, the foundation of all science, and cannot be derived
|
||
from it. It was possible to effect this verification of moral
|
||
principles as principles of a pure reason quite well, and with
|
||
sufficient certainty, by a single appeal to the judgement of common
|
||
sense, for this reason, that anything empirical which might slip
|
||
into our maxims as a determining principle of the will can be detected
|
||
at once by the feeling of pleasure or pain which necessarily
|
||
attaches to it as exciting desire; whereas pure practical reason
|
||
positively refuses to admit this feeling into its principle as a
|
||
condition. The heterogeneity of the determining principles (the
|
||
empirical and rational) is clearly detected by this resistance of a
|
||
practically legislating reason against every admixture of inclination,
|
||
and by a peculiar kind of sentiment, which, however, does not
|
||
precede the legislation of the practical reason, but, on the contrary,
|
||
is produced by this as a constraint, namely, by the feeling of a
|
||
respect such as no man has for inclinations of whatever kind but for
|
||
the law only; and it is detected in so marked and prominent a manner
|
||
that even the most uninstructed cannot fail to see at once in an
|
||
example presented to him, that empirical principles of volition may
|
||
indeed urge him to follow their attractions, but that he can never
|
||
be expected to obey anything but the pure practical law of reason
|
||
alone.
|
||
The distinction between the doctrine of happiness and the doctrine
|
||
of morality, in the former of which empirical principles constitute
|
||
the entire foundation, while in the second they do not form the
|
||
smallest part of it, is the first and most important office of the
|
||
Analytic of pure practical reason; and it must proceed in it with as
|
||
much exactness and, so to speak, scrupulousness, as any geometer in
|
||
his work. The philosopher, however, has greater difficulties to
|
||
contend with here (as always in rational cognition by means of
|
||
concepts merely without construction), because he cannot take any
|
||
intuition as a foundation (for a pure noumenon). He has, however, this
|
||
advantage that, like the chemist, he can at any time make an
|
||
experiment with every man's practical reason for the purpose of
|
||
distinguishing the moral (pure) principle of determination from the
|
||
empirical; namely, by adding the moral law (as a determining
|
||
principle) to the empirically affected will (e.g., that of the man who
|
||
would be ready to lie because he can gain something thereby). It is as
|
||
if the analyst added alkali to a solution of lime in hydrochloric
|
||
acid, the acid at once forsakes the lime, combines with the alkali,
|
||
and the lime is precipitated. just in the same way, if to a man who is
|
||
otherwise honest (or who for this occasion places himself only in
|
||
thought in the position of an honest man), we present the moral law by
|
||
which he recognises the worthlessness of the liar, his practical
|
||
reason (in forming a judgement of what ought to be done) at once
|
||
forsakes the advantage, combines with that which maintains in him
|
||
respect for his own person (truthfulness), and the advantage after
|
||
it has been separated and washed from every particle of reason
|
||
(which is altogether on the side of duty) is easily weighed by
|
||
everyone, so that it can enter into combination with reason in other
|
||
cases, only not where it could be opposed to the moral law, which
|
||
reason never forsakes, but most closely unites itself with.
|
||
But it does not follow that this distinction between the principle
|
||
of happiness and that of morality is an opposition between them, and
|
||
pure practical reason does not require that we should renounce all
|
||
claim to happiness, but only that the moment duty is in question we
|
||
should take no account of happiness. It may even in certain respects
|
||
be a duty to provide for happiness; partly, because (including
|
||
skill, wealth, riches) it contains means for the fulfilment of our
|
||
duty; partly, because the absence of it (e.g., poverty) implies
|
||
temptations to transgress our duty. But it can never be an immediate
|
||
duty to promote our happiness, still less can it be the principle of
|
||
all duty. Now, as all determining principles of the will, except the
|
||
law of pure practical reason alone (the moral law), are all
|
||
empirical and, therefore, as such, belong to the principle of
|
||
happiness, they must all be kept apart from the supreme principle of
|
||
morality and never be incorporated with it as a condition; since
|
||
this would be to destroy all moral worth just as much as any empirical
|
||
admixture with geometrical principles would destroy the certainty of
|
||
mathematical evidence, which in Plato's opinion is the most
|
||
excellent thing in mathematics, even surpassing their utility.
|
||
Instead, however, of the deduction of the supreme principle of
|
||
pure practical reason, that is, the explanation of the possibility
|
||
of such a knowledge a priori, the utmost we were able to do was to
|
||
show that if we saw the possibility of the freedom of an efficient
|
||
cause, we should also see not merely the possibility, but even the
|
||
necessity, of the moral law as the supreme practical law of rational
|
||
beings, to whom we attribute freedom of causality of their will;
|
||
because both concepts are so inseparably united that we might define
|
||
practical freedom as independence of the will on anything but the
|
||
moral law. But we cannot perceive the possibility of the freedom of an
|
||
efficient cause, especially in the world of sense; we are fortunate if
|
||
only we can be sufficiently assured that there is no proof of its
|
||
impossibility, and are now, by the moral law which postulates it,
|
||
compelled and therefore authorized to assume it. However, there are
|
||
still many who think that they can explain this freedom on empirical
|
||
principles, like any other physical faculty, and treat it as a
|
||
psychological property, the explanation of which only requires a
|
||
more exact study of the nature of the soul and of the motives of the
|
||
will, and not as a transcendental predicate of the causality of a
|
||
being that belongs to the world of sense (which is really the
|
||
point). They thus deprive us of the grand revelation which we obtain
|
||
through practical reason by means of the moral law, the revelation,
|
||
namely, of a supersensible world by the realization of the otherwise
|
||
transcendent concept of freedom, and by this deprive us also of the
|
||
moral law itself, which admits no empirical principle of
|
||
determination. Therefore it will be necessary to add something here as
|
||
a protection against this delusion and to exhibit empiricism in its
|
||
naked superficiality.
|
||
The notion of causality as physical necessity, in opposition to
|
||
the same notion as freedom, concerns only the existence of things so
|
||
far as it is determinable in time, and, consequently, as phenomena, in
|
||
opposition to their causality as things in themselves. Now if we
|
||
take the attributes of existence of things in time for attributes of
|
||
things in themselves (which is the common view), then it is impossible
|
||
to reconcile the necessity of the causal relation with freedom; they
|
||
are contradictory. For from the former it follows that every event,
|
||
and consequently every action that takes place at a certain point of
|
||
time, is a necessary result of what existed in time preceding. Now
|
||
as time past is no longer in my power, hence every action that I
|
||
perform must be the necessary result of certain determining grounds
|
||
which are not in my power, that is, at the moment in which I am acting
|
||
I am never free. Nay, even if I assume that my whole existence is
|
||
independent on any foreign cause (for instance, God), so that the
|
||
determining principles of my causality, and even of my whole
|
||
existence, were not outside myself, yet this would not in the least
|
||
transform that physical necessity into freedom. For at every moment of
|
||
time I am still under the necessity of being determined to action by
|
||
that which is not in my power, and the series of events infinite a
|
||
parte priori, which I only continue according to a pre-determined
|
||
order and could never begin of myself, would be a continuous
|
||
physical chain, and therefore my causality would never be freedom.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 45}
|
||
If, then, we would attribute freedom to a being whose existence is
|
||
determined in time, we cannot except him from the law of necessity
|
||
as to all events in his existence and, consequently, as to his actions
|
||
also; for that would be to hand him over to blind chance. Now as
|
||
this law inevitably applies to all the causality of things, so far
|
||
as their existence is determinable in time, it follows that if this
|
||
were the mode in which we had also to conceive the existence of
|
||
these things in themselves, freedom must be rejected as a vain and
|
||
impossible conception. Consequently, if we would still save it, no
|
||
other way remains but to consider that the existence of a thing, so
|
||
far as it is determinable in time, and therefore its causality,
|
||
according to the law of physical necessity, belong to appearance,
|
||
and to attribute freedom to the same being as a thing in itself.
|
||
This is certainly inevitable, if we would retain both these
|
||
contradictory concepts together; but in application, when we try to
|
||
explain their combination in one and the same action, great
|
||
difficulties present themselves which seem to render such a
|
||
combination impracticable.
|
||
When I say of a man who commits a theft that, by the law of
|
||
causality, this deed is a necessary result of the determining causes
|
||
in preceding time, then it was impossible that it could not have
|
||
happened; how then can the judgement, according to the moral law, make
|
||
any change, and suppose that it could have been omitted, because the
|
||
law says that it ought to have been omitted; that is, how can a man be
|
||
called quite free at the same moment, and with respect to the same
|
||
action in which he is subject to an inevitable physical necessity?
|
||
Some try to evade this by saying that the causes that determine his
|
||
causality are of such a kind as to agree with a comparative notion
|
||
of freedom. According to this, that is sometimes called a free effect,
|
||
the determining physical cause of which lies within the acting thing
|
||
itself, e.g., that which a projectile performs when it is in free
|
||
motion, in which case we use the word freedom, because while it is
|
||
in flight it is not urged by anything external; or as we call the
|
||
motion of a clock a free motion, because it moves its hands itself,
|
||
which therefore do not require to be pushed by external force; so
|
||
although the actions of man are necessarily determined by causes which
|
||
precede in time, we yet call them free, because these causes are ideas
|
||
produced by our own faculties, whereby desires are evoked on
|
||
occasion of circumstances, and hence actions are wrought according
|
||
to our own pleasure. This is a wretched subterfuge with which some
|
||
persons still let themselves be put off, and so think they have
|
||
solved, with a petty word- jugglery, that difficult problem, at the
|
||
solution of which centuries have laboured in vain, and which can
|
||
therefore scarcely be found so completely on the surface. In fact,
|
||
in the question about the freedom which must be the foundation of
|
||
all moral laws and the consequent responsibility, it does not matter
|
||
whether the principles which necessarily determine causality by a
|
||
physical law reside within the subject or without him, or in the
|
||
former case whether these principles are instinctive or are
|
||
conceived by reason, if, as is admitted by these men themselves, these
|
||
determining ideas have the ground of their existence in time and in
|
||
the antecedent state, and this again in an antecedent, etc. Then it
|
||
matters not that these are internal; it matters not that they have a
|
||
psychological and not a mechanical causality, that is, produce actions
|
||
by means of ideas and not by bodily movements; they are still
|
||
determining principles of the causality of a being whose existence
|
||
is determinable in time, and therefore under the necessitation of
|
||
conditions of past time, which therefore, when the subject has to act,
|
||
are no longer in his power. This may imply psychological freedom (if
|
||
we choose to apply this term to a merely internal chain of ideas in
|
||
the mind), but it involves physical necessity and, therefore, leaves
|
||
no room for transcendental freedom, which must be conceived as
|
||
independence on everything empirical, and, consequently, on nature
|
||
generally, whether it is an object of the internal sense considered in
|
||
time only, or of the external in time and space. Without this
|
||
freedom (in the latter and true sense), which alone is practical a
|
||
priori, no moral law and no moral imputation are possible. just for
|
||
this reason the necessity of events in time, according to the physical
|
||
law of causality, may be called the mechanism of nature, although we
|
||
do not mean by this that things which are subject to it must be really
|
||
material machines. We look here only to the necessity of the
|
||
connection of events in a time-series as it is developed according
|
||
to the physical law, whether the subject in which this development
|
||
takes place is called automaton materiale when the mechanical being is
|
||
moved by matter, or with Leibnitz spirituale when it is impelled by
|
||
ideas; and if the freedom of our will were no other than the latter
|
||
(say the psychological and comparative, not also transcendental,
|
||
that is, absolute), then it would at bottom be nothing better than the
|
||
freedom of a turnspit, which, when once it is wound up, accomplishes
|
||
its motions of itself.
|
||
Now, in order to remove in the supposed case the apparent
|
||
contradiction between freedom and the mechanism of nature in one and
|
||
the same action, we must remember what was said in the Critique of
|
||
Pure Reason, or what follows therefrom; viz., that the necessity of
|
||
nature, which cannot co-exist with the freedom of the subject,
|
||
appertains only to the attributes of the thing that is subject to
|
||
time-conditions, consequently only to those of the acting subject as a
|
||
phenomenon; that therefore in this respect the determining
|
||
principles of every action of the same reside in what belongs to
|
||
past time and is no longer in his power (in which must be included his
|
||
own past actions and the character that these may determine for him in
|
||
his own eyes as a phenomenon). But the very same subject, being on the
|
||
other side conscious of himself as a thing in himself, considers his
|
||
existence also in so far as it is not subject to time-conditions,
|
||
and regards himself as only determinable by laws which he gives
|
||
himself through reason; and in this his existence nothing is
|
||
antecedent to the determination of his will, but every action, and
|
||
in general every modification of his existence, varying according to
|
||
his internal sense, even the whole series of his existence as a
|
||
sensible being is in the consciousness of his supersensible
|
||
existence nothing but the result, and never to be regarded as the
|
||
determining principle, of his causality as a noumenon. In this view
|
||
now the rational being can justly say of every unlawful action that he
|
||
performs, that he could very well have left it undone; although as
|
||
appearance it is sufficiently determined in the past, and in this
|
||
respect is absolutely necessary; for it, with all the past which
|
||
determines it, belongs to the one single phenomenon of his character
|
||
which he makes for himself, in consequence of which he imputes the
|
||
causality of those appearances to himself as a cause independent of
|
||
sensibility.
|
||
With this agree perfectly the judicial sentences of that wonderful
|
||
faculty in us which we call conscience. A man may use as much art as
|
||
he likes in order to paint to himself an unlawful act, that he
|
||
remembers, as an unintentional error, a mere oversight, such as one
|
||
can never altogether avoid, and therefore as something in which he was
|
||
carried away by the stream of physical necessity, and thus to make
|
||
himself out innocent, yet he finds that the advocate who speaks in his
|
||
favour can by no means silence the accuser within, if only he is
|
||
conscious that at the time when he did this wrong he was in his
|
||
senses, that is, in possession of his freedom; and, nevertheless, he
|
||
accounts for his error from some bad habits, which by gradual
|
||
neglect of attention he has allowed to grow upon him to such a
|
||
degree that he can regard his error as its natural consequence,
|
||
although this cannot protect him from the blame and reproach which
|
||
he casts upon himself. This is also the ground of repentance for a
|
||
long past action at every recollection of it; a painful feeling
|
||
produced by the moral sentiment, and which is practically void in so
|
||
far as it cannot serve to undo what has been done. (Hence Priestley,
|
||
as a true and consistent fatalist, declares it absurd, and he deserves
|
||
to be commended for this candour more than those who, while they
|
||
maintain the mechanism of the will in fact, and its freedom in words
|
||
only, yet wish it to be thought that they include it in their system
|
||
of compromise, although they do not explain the possibility of such
|
||
moral imputation.) But the pain is quite legitimate, because when
|
||
the law of our intelligible [supersensible] existence (the moral
|
||
law) is in question, reason recognizes no distinction of time, and
|
||
only asks whether the event belongs to me, as my act, and then
|
||
always morally connects the same feeling with it, whether it has
|
||
happened just now or long ago. For in reference to the supersensible
|
||
consciousness of its existence (i.e., freedom) the life of sense is
|
||
but a single phenomenon, which, inasmuch as it contains merely
|
||
manifestations of the mental disposition with regard to the moral
|
||
law (i.e., of the character), must be judged not according to the
|
||
physical necessity that belongs to it as phenomenon, but according
|
||
to the absolute spontaneity of freedom. It may therefore be admitted
|
||
that, if it were possible to have so profound an insight into a
|
||
man's mental character as shown by internal as well as external
|
||
actions as to know all its motives, even the smallest, and likewise
|
||
all the external occasions that can influence them, we could calculate
|
||
a man's conduct for the future with as great certainty as a lunar or
|
||
solar eclipse; and nevertheless we may maintain that the man is
|
||
free. In fact, if we were capable of a further glance, namely, an
|
||
intellectual intuition of the same subject (which indeed is not
|
||
granted to us, and instead of it we have only the rational concept),
|
||
then we should perceive that this whole chain of appearances in regard
|
||
to all that concerns the moral laws depends on the spontaneity of
|
||
the subject as a thing in itself, of the determination of which no
|
||
physical explanation can be given. In default of this intuition, the
|
||
moral law assures us of this distinction between the relation of our
|
||
actions as appearance to our sensible nature, and the relation of this
|
||
sensible nature to the supersensible substratum in us. In this view,
|
||
which is natural to our reason, though inexplicable, we can also
|
||
justify some judgements which we passed with all conscientiousness,
|
||
and which yet at first sight seem quite opposed to all equity. There
|
||
are cases in which men, even with the same education which has been
|
||
profitable to others, yet show such early depravity, and so continue
|
||
to progress in it to years of manhood, that they are thought to be
|
||
born villains, and their character altogether incapable of
|
||
improvement; and nevertheless they are judged for what they do or
|
||
leave undone, they are reproached for their faults as guilty; nay,
|
||
they themselves (the children) regard these reproaches as well
|
||
founded, exactly as if in spite of the hopeless natural quality of
|
||
mind ascribed to them, they remained just as responsible as any
|
||
other man. This could not happen if we did not suppose that whatever
|
||
springs from a man's choice (as every action intentionally performed
|
||
undoubtedly does) has as its foundation a free causality, which from
|
||
early youth expresses its character in its manifestations (i.e.,
|
||
actions). These, on account of the uniformity of conduct, exhibit a
|
||
natural connection, which however does not make the vicious quality of
|
||
the will necessary, but on the contrary, is the consequence of the
|
||
evil principles voluntarily adopted and unchangeable, which only
|
||
make it so much the more culpable and deserving of punishment. There
|
||
still remains a difficulty in the combination of freedom with the
|
||
mechanism of nature in a being belonging to the world of sense; a
|
||
difficulty which, even after all the foregoing is admitted,
|
||
threatens freedom with complete destruction. But with this danger
|
||
there is also a circumstance that offers hope of an issue still
|
||
favourable to freedom; namely, that the same difficulty presses much
|
||
more strongly (in fact as we shall presently see, presses only) on the
|
||
system that holds the existence determinable in time and space to be
|
||
the existence of things in themselves; it does not therefore oblige us
|
||
to give up our capital supposition of the ideality of time as a mere
|
||
form of sensible intuition, and consequently as a mere manner of
|
||
representation which is proper to the subject as belonging to the
|
||
world of sense; and therefore it only requires that this view be
|
||
reconciled with this idea.
|
||
The difficulty is as follows: Even if it is admitted that the
|
||
supersensible subject can be free with respect to a given action,
|
||
although, as a subject also belonging to the world of sense, he is
|
||
under mechanical conditions with respect to the same action, still, as
|
||
soon as we allow that God as universal first cause is also the cause
|
||
of the existence of substance (a proposition which can never be
|
||
given up without at the same time giving up the notion of God as the
|
||
Being of all beings, and therewith giving up his all sufficiency, on
|
||
which everything in theology depends), it seems as if we must admit
|
||
that a man's actions have their determining principle in something
|
||
which is wholly out of his power- namely, in the causality of a
|
||
Supreme Being distinct from himself and on whom his own existence
|
||
and the whole determination of his causality are absolutely dependent.
|
||
In point of fact, if a man's actions as belonging to his modifications
|
||
in time were not merely modifications of him as appearance, but as a
|
||
thing in itself, freedom could not be saved. Man would be a marionette
|
||
or an automaton, like Vaucanson's, prepared and wound up by the
|
||
Supreme Artist. Self-consciousness would indeed make him a thinking
|
||
automaton; but the consciousness of his own spontaneity would be
|
||
mere delusion if this were mistaken for freedom, and it would
|
||
deserve this name only in a comparative sense, since, although the
|
||
proximate determining causes of its motion and a long series of
|
||
their determining causes are internal, yet the last and highest is
|
||
found in a foreign hand. Therefore I do not see how those who still
|
||
insist on regarding time and space as attributes belonging to the
|
||
existence of things in themselves, can avoid admitting the fatality of
|
||
actions; or if (like the otherwise acute Mendelssohn) they allow
|
||
them to be conditions necessarily belonging to the existence of finite
|
||
and derived beings, but not to that of the infinite Supreme Being, I
|
||
do not see on what ground they can justify such a distinction, or,
|
||
indeed, how they can avoid the contradiction that meets them, when
|
||
they hold that existence in time is an attribute necessarily belonging
|
||
to finite things in themselves, whereas God is the cause of this
|
||
existence, but cannot be the cause of time (or space) itself (since
|
||
this must be presupposed as a necessary a priori condition of the
|
||
existence of things); and consequently as regards the existence of
|
||
these things. His causality must be subject to conditions and even
|
||
to the condition of time; and this would inevitably bring in
|
||
everything contradictory to the notions of His infinity and
|
||
independence. On the other hand, it is quite easy for us to draw the
|
||
distinction between the attribute of the divine existence of being
|
||
independent on all time-conditions, and that of a being of the world
|
||
of sense, the distinction being that between the existence of a
|
||
being in itself and that of a thing in appearance. Hence, if this
|
||
ideality of time and space is not adopted, nothing remains but
|
||
Spinozism, in which space and time are essential attributes of the
|
||
Supreme Being Himself, and the things dependent on Him (ourselves,
|
||
therefore, included) are not substances, but merely accidents inhering
|
||
in Him; since, if these things as His effects exist in time only, this
|
||
being the condition of their existence in themselves, then the actions
|
||
of these beings must be simply His actions which He performs in some
|
||
place and time. Thus, Spinozism, in spite of the absurdity of its
|
||
fundamental idea, argues more consistently than the creation theory
|
||
can, when beings assumed to be substances, and beings in themselves
|
||
existing in time, are regarded as effects of a Supreme Cause, and
|
||
yet as not [belonging] to Him and His action, but as separate
|
||
substances.
|
||
{BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 50}
|
||
The above-mentioned difficulty is resolved briefly and clearly as
|
||
follows: If existence in time is a mere sensible mode of
|
||
representation belonging to thinking beings in the world and
|
||
consequently does not apply to them as things in themselves, then
|
||
the creation of these beings is a creation of things in themselves,
|
||
since the notion of creation does not belong to the sensible form of
|
||
representation of existence or to causality, but can only be
|
||
referred to noumena. Consequently, when I say of beings in the world
|
||
of sense that they are created, I so far regard them as noumena. As it
|
||
would be a contradiction, therefore, to say that God is a creator of
|
||
appearances, so also it is a contradiction to say that as creator He
|
||
is the cause of actions in the world of sense, and therefore as
|
||
appearances, although He is the cause of the existence of the acting
|
||
beings (which are noumena). If now it is possible to affirm freedom in
|
||
spite of the natural mechanism of actions as appearances (by regarding
|
||
existence in time as something that belongs only to appearances, not
|
||
to things in themselves), then the circumstance that the acting beings
|
||
are creatures cannot make the slightest difference, since creation
|
||
concerns their supersensible and not their sensible existence, and,
|
||
therefore, cannot be regarded as the determining principle of the
|
||
appearances. It would be quite different if the beings in the world as
|
||
things in themselves existed in time, since in that case the creator
|
||
of substance would be at the same time the author of the whole
|
||
mechanism of this substance.
|
||
Of so great importance is the separation of time (as well as
|
||
space) from the existence of things in themselves which was effected
|
||
in the Critique of the Pure Speculative Reason.
|
||
It may be said that the solution here proposed involves great
|
||
difficulty in itself and is scarcely susceptible of a lucid
|
||
exposition. But is any other solution that has been attempted, or that
|
||
may be attempted, easier and more intelligible? Rather might we say
|
||
that the dogmatic teachers of metaphysics have shown more shrewdness
|
||
than candour in keeping this difficult point out of sight as much as
|
||
possible, in the hope that if they said nothing about it, probably
|
||
no one would think of it. If science is to be advanced, all
|
||
difficulties must be laid open, and we must even search for those that
|
||
are hidden, for every difficulty calls forth a remedy, which cannot be
|
||
discovered without science gaining either in extent or in exactness;
|
||
and thus even obstacles become means of increasing the thoroughness of
|
||
science. On the other hand, if the difficulties are intentionally
|
||
concealed, or merely removed by palliatives, then sooner or later they
|
||
burst out into incurable mischiefs, which bring science to ruin in
|
||
an absolute scepticism.
|
||
Since it is, properly speaking, the notion of freedom alone
|
||
amongst all the ideas of pure speculative reason that so greatly
|
||
enlarges our knowledge in the sphere of the supersensible, though only
|
||
of our practical knowledge, I ask myself why it exclusively
|
||
possesses so great fertility, whereas the others only designate the
|
||
vacant space for possible beings of the pure understanding, but are
|
||
unable by any means to define the concept of them. I presently find
|
||
that as I cannot think anything without a category, I must first
|
||
look for a category for the rational idea of freedom with which I am
|
||
now concerned; and this is the category of causality; and although
|
||
freedom, a concept of the reason, being a transcendent concept, cannot
|
||
have any intuition corresponding to it, yet the concept of the
|
||
understanding- for the synthesis of which the former demands the
|
||
unconditioned- (namely, the concept of causality) must have a sensible
|
||
intuition given, by which first its objective reality is assured. Now,
|
||
the categories are all divided into two classes- the mathematical,
|
||
which concern the unity of synthesis in the conception of objects, and
|
||
the dynamical, which refer to the unity of synthesis in the conception
|
||
of the existence of objects. The former (those of magnitude and
|
||
quality) always contain a synthesis of the homogeneous, and it is
|
||
not possible to find in this the unconditioned antecedent to what is
|
||
given in sensible intuition as conditioned in space and time, as
|
||
this would itself have to belong to space and time, and therefore be
|
||
again still conditioned. Whence it resulted in the Dialectic of Pure
|
||
Theoretic Reason that the opposite methods of attaining the
|
||
unconditioned and the totality of the conditions were both wrong.
|
||
The categories of the second class (those of causality and of the
|
||
necessity of a thing) did not require this homogeneity (of the
|
||
conditioned and the condition in synthesis), since here what we have
|
||
to explain is not how the intuition is compounded from a manifold in
|
||
it, but only how the existence of the conditioned object corresponding
|
||
to it is added to the existence of the condition (added, namely, in
|
||
the understanding as connected therewith); and in that case it was
|
||
allowable to suppose in the supersensible world the unconditioned
|
||
antecedent to the altogether conditioned in the world of sense (both
|
||
as regards the causal connection and the contingent existence of
|
||
things themselves), although this unconditioned remained
|
||
indeterminate, and to make the synthesis transcendent. Hence, it was
|
||
found in the Dialectic of the Pure Speculative Reason that the two
|
||
apparently opposite methods of obtaining for the conditioned the
|
||
unconditioned were not really contradictory, e.g., in the synthesis of
|
||
causality to conceive for the conditioned in the series of causes
|
||
and effects of the sensible world, a causality which has no sensible
|
||
condition, and that the same action which, as belonging to the world
|
||
of sense, is always sensibly conditioned, that is, mechanically
|
||
necessary, yet at the same time may be derived from a causality not
|
||
sensibly conditioned- being the causality of the acting being as
|
||
belonging to the supersensible world- and may consequently be
|
||
conceived as free. Now, the only point in question was to change
|
||
this may be into is; that is, that we should be able to show in an
|
||
actual case, as it were by a fact, that certain actions imply such a
|
||
causality (namely, the intellectual, sensibly unconditioned),
|
||
whether they are actual or only commanded, that is, objectively
|
||
necessary in a practical sense. We could not hope to find this
|
||
connections in actions actually given in experience as events of the
|
||
sensible world, since causality with freedom must always be sought
|
||
outside the world of sense in the world of intelligence. But things of
|
||
sense of sense in the world of intelligence. But things of sense are
|
||
the only things offered to our perception and observation. Hence,
|
||
nothing remained but to find an incontestable objective principle of
|
||
causality which excludes all sensible conditions: that is, a principle
|
||
in which reason does not appeal further to something else as a
|
||
determining ground of its causality, but contains this determining
|
||
ground itself by means of that principle, and in which therefore it is
|
||
itself as pure reason practical. Now, this principle had not to be
|
||
searched for or discovered; it had long been in the reason of all men,
|
||
and incorporated in their nature, and is the principle of morality.
|
||
Therefore, that unconditioned causality, with the faculty of it,
|
||
namely, freedom, is no longer merely indefinitely and
|
||
problematically thought (this speculative reason could prove to be
|
||
feasible), but is even as regards the law of its causality
|
||
definitely and assertorially known; and with it the fact that a
|
||
being (I myself), belonging to the world of sense, belongs also to the
|
||
supersensible world, this is also positively known, and thus the
|
||
reality of the supersensible world is established and in practical
|
||
respects definitely given, and this definiteness, which for
|
||
theoretical purposes would be transcendent, is for practical
|
||
purposes immanent. We could not, however, make a similar step as
|
||
regards the second dynamical idea, namely, that of a necessary
|
||
being. We could not rise to it from the sensible world without the aid
|
||
of the first dynamical idea. For if we attempted to do so, we should
|
||
have ventured to leave at a bound all that is given to us, and to leap
|
||
to that of which nothing is given us that can help us to effect the
|
||
connection of such a supersensible being with the world of sense
|
||
(since the necessary being would have to be known as given outside
|
||
ourselves). On the other hand, it is now obvious that this
|
||
connection is quite possible in relation to our own subject,
|
||
inasmuch as I know myself to be on the one side as an intelligible
|
||
[supersensible] being determined by the moral law (by means of
|
||
freedom), and on the other side as acting in the world of sense. It is
|
||
the concept of freedom alone that enables us to find the unconditioned
|
||
and intelligible for the conditioned and sensible without going out of
|
||
ourselves. For it is our own reason that by means of the supreme and
|
||
unconditional practical law knows that itself and the being that is
|
||
conscious of this law (our own person) belong to the pure world of
|
||
understanding, and moreover defines the manner in which, as such, it
|
||
can be active. In this way it can be understood why in the whole
|
||
faculty of reason it is the practical reason only that can help us
|
||
to pass beyond the world of sense and give us knowledge of a
|
||
supersensible order and connection, which, however, for this very
|
||
reason cannot be extended further than is necessary for pure practical
|
||
purposes.
|
||
Let me be permitted on this occasion to make one more remark,
|
||
namely, that every step that we make with pure reason, even in the
|
||
practical sphere where no attention is paid to subtle speculation,
|
||
nevertheless accords with all the material points of the Critique of
|
||
the Theoretical Reason as closely and directly as if each step had
|
||
been thought out with deliberate purpose to establish this
|
||
confirmation. Such a thorough agreement, wholly unsought for and quite
|
||
obvious (as anyone can convince himself, if he will only carry moral
|
||
inquiries up to their principles), between the most important
|
||
proposition of practical reason and the often seemingly too subtle and
|
||
needless remarks of the Critique of the Speculative Reason,
|
||
occasions surprise and astonishment, and confirms the maxim already
|
||
recognized and praised by others, namely, that in every scientific
|
||
inquiry we should pursue our way steadily with all possible
|
||
exactness and frankness, without caring for any objections that may be
|
||
raised from outside its sphere, but, as far as we can, to carry out
|
||
our inquiry truthfully and completely by itself. Frequent
|
||
observation has convinced me that, when such researches are concluded,
|
||
that which in one part of them appeared to me very questionable,
|
||
considered in relation to other extraneous doctrines, when I left this
|
||
doubtfulness out of sight for a time and only attended to the business
|
||
in hand until it was completed, at last was unexpectedly found to
|
||
agree perfectly with what had been discovered separately without the
|
||
least regard to those doctrines, and without any partiality or
|
||
prejudice for them. Authors would save themselves many errors and much
|
||
labour lost (because spent on a delusion) if they could only resolve
|
||
to go to work with more frankness.
|
||
|
||
BOOK_2|CHAPTER_1
|
||
BOOK II. Dialectic of Pure Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
CHAPTER I. Of a Dialectic of Pure Practical Reason Generally.
|
||
-
|
||
Pure reason always has its dialetic, whether it is considered in its
|
||
speculative or its practical employment; for it requires the
|
||
absolute totality of the 'conditions of what is given conditioned, and
|
||
this can only be found in things in themselves. But as all conceptions
|
||
of things in themselves must be referred to intuitions, and with us
|
||
men these can never be other than sensible and hence can never
|
||
enable us to know objects as things in themselves but only as
|
||
appearances, and since the unconditioned can never be found in this
|
||
chain of appearances which consists only of conditioned and
|
||
conditions; thus from applying this rational idea of the totality of
|
||
the conditions (in other words of the unconditioned) to appearances,
|
||
there arises an inevitable illusion, as if these latter were things in
|
||
themselves (for in the absence of a warning critique they are always
|
||
regarded as such). This illusion would never be noticed as delusive if
|
||
it did not betray itself by a conflict of reason with itself, when
|
||
it applies to appearances its fundamental principle of presupposing
|
||
the unconditioned to everything conditioned. By this, however,
|
||
reason is compelled to trace this illusion to its source, and search
|
||
how it can be removed, and this can only be done by a complete
|
||
critical examination of the whole pure faculty of reason; so that
|
||
the antinomy of the pure reason which is manifest in its dialectic
|
||
is in fact the most beneficial error into which human reason could
|
||
ever have fallen, since it at last drives us to search for the key
|
||
to escape from this labyrinth; and when this key is found, it
|
||
further discovers that which we did not seek but yet had need of,
|
||
namely, a view into a higher and an immutable order of things, in
|
||
which we even now are, and in which we are thereby enabled by definite
|
||
precepts to continue to live according to the highest dictates of
|
||
reason.
|
||
It may be seen in detail in the Critique of Pure Reason how in its
|
||
speculative employment this natural dialectic is to be solved, and how
|
||
the error which arises from a very natural illusion may be guarded
|
||
against. But reason in its practical use is not a whit better off.
|
||
As pure practical reason, it likewise seeks to find the
|
||
unconditioned for the practically conditioned (which rests on
|
||
inclinations and natural wants), and this is not as the determining
|
||
principle of the will, but even when this is given (in the moral
|
||
law) it seeks the unconditioned totality of the object of pure
|
||
practical reason under the name of the summum bonum.
|
||
To define this idea practically, i.e., sufficiently for the maxims
|
||
of our rational conduct, is the business of practical wisdom, and this
|
||
again as a science is philosophy, in the sense in which the word was
|
||
understood by the ancients, with whom it meant instruction in the
|
||
conception in which the summum bonum was to be placed, and the conduct
|
||
by which it was to be obtained. It would be well to leave this word in
|
||
its ancient signification as a doctrine of the summum bonum, so far as
|
||
reason endeavours to make this into a science. For on the one band the
|
||
restriction annexed would suit the Greek expression (which signifies
|
||
the love of wisdom), and yet at the same time would be sufficient to
|
||
embrace under the name of philosophy the love of science: that is to
|
||
say, of all speculative rational knowledge, so far as it is
|
||
serviceable to reason, both for that conception and also for the
|
||
practical principle determining our conduct, without letting out of
|
||
sight the main end, on account of which alone it can be called a
|
||
doctrine of practical wisdom. On the other hand, it would be no harm
|
||
to deter the self-conceit of one who ventures to claim the title of
|
||
philosopher by holding before him in the very definition a standard of
|
||
self-estimation which would very much lower his pretensions. For a
|
||
teacher of wisdom would mean something more than a scholar who has not
|
||
come so far as to guide himself, much less to guide others, with
|
||
certain expectation of attaining so high an end: it would mean a
|
||
master in the knowledge of wisdom, which implies more than a modest
|
||
man would claim for himself. Thus philosophy as well as wisdom would
|
||
always remain an ideal, which objectively is presented complete in
|
||
reason alone, while subjectively for the person it is only the goal of
|
||
his unceasing endeavours; and no one would be justified in
|
||
professing to be in possession of it so as to assume the name of
|
||
philosopher who could not also show its infallible effects in his
|
||
own person as an example (in his self-mastery and the unquestioned
|
||
interest that he takes pre-eminently in the general good), and this
|
||
the ancients also required as a condition of deserving that honourable
|
||
title.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 5}
|
||
We have another preliminary remark to make respecting the
|
||
dialectic of the pure practical reason, on the point of the definition
|
||
of the summum bonum (a successful solution of which dialectic would
|
||
lead us to expect, as in case of that of the theoretical reason, the
|
||
most beneficial effects, inasmuch as the self-contradictions of pure
|
||
practical reason honestly stated, and not concealed, force us to
|
||
undertake a complete critique of this faculty).
|
||
The moral law is the sole determining principle of a pure will.
|
||
But since this is merely formal (viz., as prescribing only the form of
|
||
the maxim as universally legislative), it abstracts as a determining
|
||
principle from all matter that is to say, from every object of
|
||
volition. Hence, though the summum bonum may be the whole object of
|
||
a pure practical reason, i.e., a pure will, yet it is not on that
|
||
account to be regarded as its determining principle; and the moral law
|
||
alone must be regarded as the principle on which that and its
|
||
realization or promotion are aimed at. This remark is important in
|
||
so delicate a case as the determination of moral principles, where the
|
||
slightest misinterpretation perverts men's minds. For it will have
|
||
been seen from the Analytic that, if we assume any object under the
|
||
name of a good as a determining principle of the will prior to the
|
||
moral law and then deduce from it the supreme practical principle,
|
||
this would always introduce heteronomy and crush out the moral
|
||
principle.
|
||
It is, however, evident that if the notion of the summum bonum
|
||
includes that of the moral law as its supreme condition, then the
|
||
summum bonum would not merely be an object, but the notion of it and
|
||
the conception of its existence as possible by our own practical
|
||
reason would likewise be the determining principle of the will,
|
||
since in that case the will is in fact determined by the moral law
|
||
which is already included in this conception, and by no other
|
||
object, as the principle of autonomy requires. This order of the
|
||
conceptions of determination of the will must not be lost sight of, as
|
||
otherwise we should misunderstand ourselves and think we had fallen
|
||
into a contradiction, while everything remains in perfect harmony.
|
||
|
||
BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2
|
||
CHAPTER II. Of the Dialectic of Pure Reason in defining the
|
||
Conception of the "Summum Bonum".
|
||
-
|
||
The conception of the summum itself contains an ambiguity which
|
||
might occasion needless disputes if we did not attend to it. The
|
||
summum may mean either the supreme (supremum) or the perfect
|
||
(consummatum). The former is that condition which is itself
|
||
unconditioned, i.e., is not subordinate to any other (originarium);
|
||
the second is that whole which is not a part of a greater whole of the
|
||
same kind (perfectissimum). It has been shown in the Analytic that
|
||
virtue (as worthiness to be happy) is the supreme condition of all
|
||
that can appear to us desirable, and consequently of all our pursuit
|
||
of happiness, and is therefore the supreme good. But it does not
|
||
follow that it is the whole and perfect good as the object of the
|
||
desires of rational finite beings; for this requires happiness also,
|
||
and that not merely in the partial eyes of the person who makes
|
||
himself an end, but even in the judgement of an impartial reason,
|
||
which regards persons in general as ends in themselves. For to need
|
||
happiness, to deserve it, and yet at the same time not to
|
||
participate in it, cannot be consistent with the perfect volition of a
|
||
rational being possessed at the same time of all power, if, for the
|
||
sake of experiment, we conceive such a being. Now inasmuch as virtue
|
||
and happiness together constitute the possession of the summum bonum
|
||
in a person, and the distribution of happiness in exact proportion
|
||
to morality (which is the worth of the person, and his worthiness to
|
||
be happy) constitutes the summum bonum of a possible world; hence this
|
||
summum bonum expresses the whole, the perfect good, in which, however,
|
||
virtue as the condition is always the supreme good, since it has no
|
||
condition above it; whereas happiness, while it is pleasant to the
|
||
possessor of it, is not of itself absolutely and in all respects good,
|
||
but always presupposes morally right behaviour as its condition.
|
||
When two elements are necessarily united in one concept, they must
|
||
be connected as reason and consequence, and this either so that
|
||
their unity is considered as analytical (logical connection), or as
|
||
synthetical (real connection) the former following the law of
|
||
identity, the latter that of causality. The connection of virtue and
|
||
happiness may therefore be understood in two ways: either the
|
||
endeavour to be virtuous and the rational pursuit of happiness are not
|
||
two distinct actions, but absolutely identical, in which case no maxim
|
||
need be made the principle of the former, other than what serves for
|
||
the latter; or the connection consists in this, that virtue produces
|
||
happiness as something distinct from the consciousness of virtue, as a
|
||
cause produces an effect.
|
||
The ancient Greek schools were, properly speaking, only two, and
|
||
in determining the conception of the summum bonum these followed in
|
||
fact one and the same method, inasmuch as they did not allow virtue
|
||
and happiness to be regarded as two distinct elements of the summum
|
||
bonum, and consequently sought the unity of the principle by the
|
||
rule of identity; but they differed as to which of the two was to be
|
||
taken as the fundamental notion. The Epicurean said: "To be
|
||
conscious that one's maxims lead to happiness is virtue"; the Stoic
|
||
said: "To be conscious of one's virtue is happiness." With the former,
|
||
Prudence was equivalent to morality; with the latter, who chose a
|
||
higher designation for virtue, morality alone was true wisdom.
|
||
While we must admire the men who in such early times tried all
|
||
imaginable ways of extending the domain of philosophy, we must at
|
||
the same time lament that their acuteness was unfortunately misapplied
|
||
in trying to trace out identity between two extremely heterogeneous
|
||
notions, those of happiness and virtue. But it agrees with the
|
||
dialectical spirit of their times (and subtle minds are even now
|
||
sometimes misled in the same way) to get rid of irreconcilable
|
||
differences in principle by seeking to change them into a mere contest
|
||
about words, and thus apparently working out the identity of the
|
||
notion under different names, and this usually occurs in cases where
|
||
the combination of heterogeneous principles lies so deep or so high,
|
||
or would require so complete a transformation of the doctrines assumed
|
||
in the rest of the philosophical system, that men are afraid to
|
||
penetrate deeply into the real difference and prefer treating it as
|
||
a difference in questions of form.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 5}
|
||
While both schools sought to trace out the identity of the practical
|
||
principles of virtue and happiness, they were not agreed as to the way
|
||
in which they tried to force this identity, but were separated
|
||
infinitely from one another, the one placing its principle on the side
|
||
of sense, the other on that of reason; the one in the consciousness of
|
||
sensible wants, the other in the independence of practical reason on
|
||
all sensible grounds of determination. According to the Epicurean, the
|
||
notion of virtue was already involved in the maxim: "To promote
|
||
one's own happiness"; according to the Stoics, on the other hand,
|
||
the feeling of happiness was already contained in the consciousness of
|
||
virtue. Now whatever is contained in another notion is identical
|
||
with part of the containing notion, but not with the whole, and
|
||
moreover two wholes may be specifically distinct, although they
|
||
consist of the same parts; namely if the parts are united into a whole
|
||
in totally different ways. The Stoic maintained that the virtue was
|
||
the whole summum bonum, and happiness only the consciousness of
|
||
possessing it, as making part of the state of the subject. The
|
||
Epicurean maintained that happiness was the whole summum bonum, and
|
||
virtue only the form of the maxim for its pursuit; viz., the
|
||
rational use of the means for attaining it.
|
||
Now it is clear from the Analytic that the maxims of virtue and
|
||
those of private happiness are quite heterogeneous as to their supreme
|
||
practical principle, and, although they belong to one summum bonum
|
||
which together they make possible, yet they are so far from coinciding
|
||
that they restrict and check one another very much in the same
|
||
subject. Thus the question: "How is the summum bonum practically
|
||
possible?" still remains an unsolved problem, notwithstanding all
|
||
the attempts at coalition that have hitherto been made. The Analytic
|
||
has, however, shown what it is that makes the problem difficult to
|
||
solve; namely, that happiness and morality are two specifically
|
||
distinct elements of the summum bonum and, therefore, their
|
||
combination cannot be analytically cognised (as if the man that
|
||
seeks his own happiness should find by mere analysis of his conception
|
||
that in so acting he is virtuous, or as if the man that follows virtue
|
||
should in the consciousness of such conduct find that he is already
|
||
happy ipso facto), but must be a synthesis of concepts. Now since this
|
||
combination is recognised as a priori, and therefore as practically
|
||
necessary, and consequently not as derived from experience, so that
|
||
the possibility of the summum bonum does not rest on any empirical
|
||
principle, it follows that the deduction [legitimation] of this
|
||
concept must be transcendental. It is a priori (morally) necessary
|
||
to produce the summum bonum by freedom of will: therefore the
|
||
condition of its possibility must rest solely on a priori principles
|
||
of cognition.
|
||
-
|
||
I. The Antinomy of Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 10}
|
||
In the summum bonum which is practical for us, i.e., to be
|
||
realized by our will, virtue and happiness are thought as
|
||
necessarily combined, so that the one cannot be assumed by pure
|
||
practical reason without the other also being attached to it. Now this
|
||
combination (like every other) is either analytical or synthetical. It
|
||
bas been shown that it cannot be analytical; it must then be
|
||
synthetical and, more particularly, must be conceived as the
|
||
connection of cause and effect, since it concerns a practical good,
|
||
i.e., one that is possible by means of action; consequently either the
|
||
desire of happiness must be the motive to maxims of virtue, or the
|
||
maxim of virtue must be the efficient cause of happiness. The first is
|
||
absolutely impossible, because (as was proved in the Analytic)
|
||
maxims which place the determining principle of the will in the desire
|
||
of personal happiness are not moral at all, and no virtue can be
|
||
founded on them. But the second is also impossible, because the
|
||
practical connection of causes and effects in the world, as the result
|
||
of the determination of the will, does not depend upon the moral
|
||
dispositions of the will, but on the knowledge of the laws of nature
|
||
and the physical power to use them for one's purposes; consequently we
|
||
cannot expect in the world by the most punctilious observance of the
|
||
moral laws any necessary connection of happiness with virtue
|
||
adequate to the summum bonum. Now, as the promotion of this summum
|
||
bonum, the conception of which contains this connection, is a priori a
|
||
necessary object of our will and inseparably attached to the moral
|
||
law, the impossibility of the former must prove the falsity of the
|
||
latter. If then the supreme good is not possible by practical rules,
|
||
then the moral law also which commands us to promote it is directed to
|
||
vain imaginary ends and must consequently be false.
|
||
-
|
||
II. Critical Solution of the Antinomy of Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
The antinomy of pure speculative reason exhibits a similar
|
||
conflict between freedom and physical necessity in the causality of
|
||
events in the world. It was solved by showing that there is no real
|
||
contradiction when the events and even the world in which they occur
|
||
are regarded (as they ought to be) merely as appearances; since one
|
||
and the same acting being, as an appearance (even to his own inner
|
||
sense), has a causality in the world of sense that always conforms
|
||
to the mechanism of nature, but with respect to the same events, so
|
||
far as the acting person regards himself at the same time as a
|
||
noumenon (as pure intelligence in an existence not dependent on the
|
||
condition of time), he can contain a principle by which that causality
|
||
acting according to laws of nature is determined, but which is
|
||
itself free from all laws of nature.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 15}
|
||
It is just the same with the foregoing antinomy of pure practical
|
||
reason. The first of the two propositions, "That the endeavour after
|
||
happiness produces a virtuous mind," is absolutely false; but the
|
||
second, "That a virtuous mind necessarily produces happiness," is
|
||
not absolutely false, but only in so far as virtue is considered as
|
||
a form of causality in the sensible world, and consequently only if
|
||
I suppose existence in it to be the only sort of existence of a
|
||
rational being; it is then only conditionally false. But as I am not
|
||
only justified in thinking that I exist also as a noumenon in a
|
||
world of the understanding, but even have in the moral law a purely
|
||
intellectual determining principle of my causality (in the sensible
|
||
world), it is not impossible that morality of mind should have a
|
||
connection as cause with happiness (as an effect in the sensible
|
||
world) if not immediate yet mediate (viz., through an intelligent
|
||
author of nature), and moreover necessary; while in a system of nature
|
||
which is merely an object of the senses, this combination could
|
||
never occur except contingently and, therefore, could not suffice
|
||
for the summum bonum.
|
||
Thus, notwithstanding this seeming conflict of practical reason with
|
||
itself, the summum bonum, which is the necessary supreme end of a will
|
||
morally determined, is a true object thereof; for it is practically
|
||
possible, and the maxims of the will which as regards their matter
|
||
refer to it have objective reality, which at first was threatened by
|
||
the antinomy that appeared in the connection of morality with
|
||
happiness by a general law; but this was merely from a
|
||
misconception, because the relation between appearances was taken
|
||
for a relation of the things in themselves to these appearances.
|
||
When we find ourselves obliged to go so far, namely, to the
|
||
connection with an intelligible world, to find the possibility of
|
||
the summum bonum, which reason points out to all rational beings as
|
||
the goal of all their moral wishes, it must seem strange that,
|
||
nevertheless, the philosophers both of ancient and modern times have
|
||
been able to find happiness in accurate proportion to virtue even in
|
||
this life (in the sensible world), or have persuaded themselves that
|
||
they were conscious thereof. For Epicurus as well as the Stoics
|
||
extolled above everything the happiness that springs from the
|
||
consciousness of living virtuously; and the former was not so base
|
||
in his practical precepts as one might infer from the principles of
|
||
his theory, which he used for explanation and not for action, or as
|
||
they were interpreted by many who were misled by his using the term
|
||
pleasure for contentment; on the contrary, he reckoned the most
|
||
disinterested practice of good amongst the ways of enjoying the most
|
||
intimate delight, and his scheme of pleasure (by which he meant
|
||
constant cheerfulness of mind) included the moderation and control
|
||
of the inclinations, such as the strictest moral philosopher might
|
||
require. He differed from the Stoics chiefly in making this pleasure
|
||
the motive, which they very rightly refused to do. For, on the one
|
||
hand, the virtuous Epicurus, like many well-intentioned men of this
|
||
day who do not reflect deeply enough on their principles, fell into
|
||
the error of presupposing the virtuous disposition in the persons
|
||
for whom he wished to provide the springs to virtue (and indeed the
|
||
upright man cannot be happy if he is not first conscious of his
|
||
uprightness; since with such a character the reproach that his habit
|
||
of thought would oblige him to make against himself in case of
|
||
transgression and his moral self-condemnation would rob him of all
|
||
enjoyment of the pleasantness which his condition might otherwise
|
||
contain). But the question is: How is such a disposition possible in
|
||
the first instance, and such a habit of thought in estimating the
|
||
worth of one's existence, since prior to it there can be in the
|
||
subject no feeling at all for moral worth? If a man is virtuous
|
||
without being conscious of his integrity in every action, he will
|
||
certainly not enjoy life, however favourable fortune may be to him
|
||
in its physical circumstances; but can we make him virtuous in the
|
||
first instance, in other words, before he esteems the moral worth of
|
||
his existence so highly, by praising to him the peace of mind that
|
||
would result from the consciousness of an integrity for which he has
|
||
no sense?
|
||
On the other hand, however, there is here an occasion of a vitium
|
||
subreptionis, and as it were of an optical illusion, in the
|
||
self-consciousness of what one does as distinguished from what one
|
||
feels- an illusion which even the most experienced cannot altogether
|
||
avoid. The moral disposition of mind is necessarily combined with a
|
||
consciousness that the will is determined directly by the law. Now the
|
||
consciousness of a determination of the faculty of desire is always
|
||
the source of a satisfaction in the resulting action; but this
|
||
pleasure, this satisfaction in oneself, is not the determining
|
||
principle of the action; on the contrary, the determination of the
|
||
will directly by reason is the source of the feeling of pleasure,
|
||
and this remains a pure practical not sensible determination of the
|
||
faculty of desire. Now as this determination has exactly the same
|
||
effect within in impelling to activity, that a feeling of the pleasure
|
||
to be expected from the desired action would have had, we easily
|
||
look on what we ourselves do as something which we merely passively
|
||
feel, and take the moral spring for a sensible impulse, just as it
|
||
happens in the so-called illusion of the senses (in this case the
|
||
inner sense). It is a sublime thing in human nature to be determined
|
||
to actions immediately by a purely rational law; sublime even is the
|
||
illusion that regards the subjective side of this capacity of
|
||
intellectual determination as something sensible and the effect of a
|
||
special sensible feeling (for an intellectual feeling would be a
|
||
contradiction). It is also of great importance to attend to this
|
||
property of our personality and as much as possible to cultivate the
|
||
effect of reason on this feeling. But we must beware lest by falsely
|
||
extolling this moral determining principle as a spring, making its
|
||
source lie in particular feelings of pleasure (which are in fact
|
||
only results), we degrade and disfigure the true genuine spring, the
|
||
law itself, by putting as it were a false foil upon it. Respect, not
|
||
pleasure or enjoyment of happiness, is something for which it is not
|
||
possible that reason should have any antecedent feeling as its
|
||
foundation (for this would always be sensible and pathological); and
|
||
consciousness of immediate obligation of the will by the law is by
|
||
no means analogous to the feeling of pleasure, although in relation to
|
||
the faculty of desire it produces the same effect, but from
|
||
different sources: it is only by this mode of conception, however,
|
||
that we can attain what we are seeking, namely, that actions be done
|
||
not merely in accordance with duty (as a result of pleasant feelings),
|
||
but from duty, which must be the true end of all moral cultivation.
|
||
Have we not, however, a word which does not express enjoyment, as
|
||
happiness does, but indicates a satisfaction in one's existence, an
|
||
analogue of the happiness which must necessarily accompany the
|
||
consciousness of virtue? Yes this word is self-contentment which in
|
||
its proper signification always designates only a negative
|
||
satisfaction in one's existence, in which one is conscious of
|
||
needing nothing. Freedom and the consciousness of it as a faculty of
|
||
following the moral law with unyielding resolution is independence
|
||
of inclinations, at least as motives determining (though not as
|
||
affecting) our desire, and so far as I am conscious of this freedom in
|
||
following my moral maxims, it is the only source of an unaltered
|
||
contentment which is necessarily connected with it and rests on no
|
||
special feeling. This may be called intellectual contentment. The
|
||
sensible contentment (improperly so-called) which rests on the
|
||
satisfaction of the inclinations, however delicate they may be
|
||
imagined to be, can never be adequate to the conception of it. For the
|
||
inclinations change, they grow with the indulgence shown them, and
|
||
always leave behind a still greater void than we had thought to
|
||
fill. Hence they are always burdensome to a rational being, and,
|
||
although he cannot lay them aside, they wrest from him the wish to
|
||
be rid of them. Even an inclination to what is right (e.g., to
|
||
beneficence), though it may much facilitate the efficacy of the
|
||
moral maxims, cannot produce any. For in these all must be directed to
|
||
the conception of the law as a determining principle, if the action is
|
||
to contain morality and not merely legality. Inclination is blind
|
||
and slavish, whether it be of a good sort or not, and, when morality
|
||
is in question, reason must not play the part merely of guardian to
|
||
inclination, but disregarding it altogether must attend simply to
|
||
its own interest as pure practical reason. This very feeling of
|
||
compassion and tender sympathy, if it precedes the deliberation on the
|
||
question of duty and becomes a determining principle, is even annoying
|
||
to right thinking persons, brings their deliberate maxims into
|
||
confusion, and makes them wish to be delivered from it and to be
|
||
subject to lawgiving reason alone.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 20}
|
||
From this we can understand how the consciousness of this faculty of
|
||
a pure practical reason produces by action (virtue) a consciousness of
|
||
mastery over one's inclinations, and therefore of independence of
|
||
them, and consequently also of the discontent that always
|
||
accompanies them, and thus a negative satisfaction with one's state,
|
||
i.e., contentment, which is primarily contentment with one's own
|
||
person. Freedom itself becomes in this way (namely, indirectly)
|
||
capable of an enjoyment which cannot be called happiness, because it
|
||
does not depend on the positive concurrence of a feeling, nor is it,
|
||
strictly speaking, bliss, since it does not include complete
|
||
independence of inclinations and wants, but it resembles bliss in so
|
||
far as the determination of one's will at least can hold itself free
|
||
from their influence; and thus, at least in its origin, this enjoyment
|
||
is analogous to the self-sufficiency which we can ascribe only to
|
||
the Supreme Being.
|
||
From this solution of the antinomy of practical pure reason, it
|
||
follows that in practical principles we may at least conceive as
|
||
possible a natural and necessary connection between the
|
||
consciousness of morality and the expectation of a proportionate
|
||
happiness as its result, though it does not follow that we can know or
|
||
perceive this connection; that, on the other hand, principles of the
|
||
pursuit of happiness cannot possibly produce morality; that,
|
||
therefore, morality is the supreme good (as the first condition of the
|
||
summum bonum), while happiness constitutes its second element, but
|
||
only in such a way that it is the morally conditioned, but necessary
|
||
consequence of the former. Only with this subordination is the
|
||
summum bonum the whole object of pure practical reason, which must
|
||
necessarily conceive it as possible, since it commands us to
|
||
contribute to the utmost of our power to its realization. But since
|
||
the possibility of such connection of the conditioned with its
|
||
condition belongs wholly to the supersensual relation of things and
|
||
cannot be given according to the laws of the world of sense,
|
||
although the practical consequences of the idea belong to the world of
|
||
sense, namely, the actions that aim at realizing the summum bonum;
|
||
we will therefore endeavour to set forth the grounds of that
|
||
possibility, first, in respect of what is immediately in our power,
|
||
and then, secondly, in that which is not in our power, but which
|
||
reason presents to us as the supplement of our impotence, for the
|
||
realization of the summum bonum (which by practical principles is
|
||
necessary).
|
||
-
|
||
III. Of the Primacy of Pure Practical Reason in its
|
||
Union with the Speculative Reason.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 25}
|
||
-
|
||
By primacy between two or more things connected by reason, I
|
||
understand the prerogative, belonging to one, of being the first
|
||
determining principle in the connection with all the rest. In a
|
||
narrower practical sense it means the prerogative of the interest of
|
||
one in so far as the interest of the other is subordinated to it,
|
||
while it is not postponed to any other. To every faculty of the mind
|
||
we can attribute an interest, that is, a principle, that contains
|
||
the condition on which alone the former is called into exercise.
|
||
Reason, as the faculty of principles, determines the interest of all
|
||
the powers of the mind and is determined by its own. The interest of
|
||
its speculative employment consists in the cognition of the object
|
||
pushed to the highest a priori principles: that of its practical
|
||
employment, in the determination of the will in respect of the final
|
||
and complete end. As to what is necessary for the possibility of any
|
||
employment of reason at all, namely, that its principles and
|
||
affirmations should not contradict one another, this constitutes no
|
||
part of its interest, but is the condition of having reason at all; it
|
||
is only its development, not mere consistency with itself, that is
|
||
reckoned as its interest.
|
||
If practical reason could not assume or think as given anything
|
||
further than what speculative reason of itself could offer it from its
|
||
own insight, the latter would have the primacy. But supposing that
|
||
it had of itself original a priori principles with which certain
|
||
theoretical positions were inseparably connected, while these were
|
||
withdrawn from any possible insight of speculative reason (which,
|
||
however, they must not contradict); then the question is: Which
|
||
interest is the superior (not which must give way, for they are not
|
||
necessarily conflicting), whether speculative reason, which knows
|
||
nothing of all that the practical offers for its acceptance, should
|
||
take up these propositions and (although they transcend it) try to
|
||
unite them with its own concepts as a foreign possession handed over
|
||
to it, or whether it is justified in obstinately following its own
|
||
separate interest and, according to the canonic of Epicurus, rejecting
|
||
as vain subtlety everything that cannot accredit its objective reality
|
||
by manifest examples to be shown in experience, even though it
|
||
should be never so much interwoven with the interest of the
|
||
practical (pure) use of reason, and in itself not contradictory to the
|
||
theoretical, merely because it infringes on the interest of the
|
||
speculative reason to this extent, that it removes the bounds which
|
||
this latter had set to itself, and gives it up to every nonsense or
|
||
delusion of imagination?
|
||
In fact, so far as practical reason is taken as dependent on
|
||
pathological conditions, that is, as merely regulating the
|
||
inclinations under the sensible principle of happiness, we could not
|
||
require speculative reason to take its principles from such a
|
||
source. Mohammed's paradise, or the absorption into the Deity of the
|
||
theosophists and mystics would press their monstrosities on the reason
|
||
according to the taste of each, and one might as well have no reason
|
||
as surrender it in such fashion to all sorts of dreams. But if pure
|
||
reason of itself can be practical and is actually so, as the
|
||
consciousness of the moral law proves, then it is still only one and
|
||
the same reason which, whether in a theoretical or a practical point
|
||
of view, judges according to a priori principles; and then it is clear
|
||
that although it is in the first point of view incompetent to
|
||
establish certain propositions positively, which, however, do not
|
||
contradict it, then, as soon as these propositions are inseparably
|
||
attached to the practical interest of pure reason, it must accept
|
||
them, though it be as something offered to it from a foreign source,
|
||
something that has not grown on its own ground, but yet is
|
||
sufficiently authenticated; and it must try to compare and connect
|
||
them with everything that it has in its power as speculative reason.
|
||
It must remember, however, that these are not additions to its
|
||
insight, but yet are extensions of its employment in another,
|
||
namely, a practical aspect; and this is not in the least opposed to
|
||
its interest, which consists in the restriction of wild speculation.
|
||
Thus, when pure speculative and pure practical reason are combined
|
||
in one cognition, the latter has the primacy, provided, namely, that
|
||
this combination is not contingent and arbitrary, but founded a priori
|
||
on reason itself and therefore necessary. For without this
|
||
subordination there would arise a conflict of reason with itself;
|
||
since, if they were merely co-ordinate, the former would close its
|
||
boundaries strictly and admit nothing from the latter into its domain,
|
||
while the latter would extend its bounds over everything and when
|
||
its needs required would seek to embrace the former within them. Nor
|
||
could we reverse the order and require pure practical reason to be
|
||
subordinate to the speculative, since all interest is ultimately
|
||
practical, and even that of speculative reason is conditional, and
|
||
it is only in the practical employment of reason that it is complete.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 30}
|
||
-
|
||
IV. The Immortality of the Soul as a Postulate of
|
||
Pure Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
The realization of the summum bonum in the world is the necessary
|
||
object of a will determinable by the moral law. But in this will the
|
||
perfect accordance of the mind with the moral law is the supreme
|
||
condition of the summum bonum. This then must be possible, as well
|
||
as its object, since it is contained in the command to promote the
|
||
latter. Now, the perfect accordance of the will with the moral law
|
||
is holiness, a perfection of which no rational being of the sensible
|
||
world is capable at any moment of his existence. Since,
|
||
nevertheless, it is required as practically necessary, it can only
|
||
be found in a progress in infinitum towards that perfect accordance,
|
||
and on the principles of pure practical reason it is necessary to
|
||
assume such a practical progress as the real object of our will.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 35}
|
||
Now, this endless progress is only possible on the supposition of an
|
||
endless duration of the existence and personality of the same rational
|
||
being (which is called the immortality of the soul). The summum bonum,
|
||
then, practically is only possible on the supposition of the
|
||
immortality of the soul; consequently this immortality, being
|
||
inseparably connected with the moral law, is a postulate of pure
|
||
practical reason (by which I mean a theoretical proposition, not
|
||
demonstrable as such, but which is an inseparable result of an
|
||
unconditional a priori practical law.
|
||
This principle of the moral destination of our nature, namely,
|
||
that it is only in an endless progress that we can attain perfect
|
||
accordance with the moral law, is of the greatest use, not merely
|
||
for the present purpose of supplementing the impotence of
|
||
speculative reason, but also with respect to religion. In default of
|
||
it, either the moral law is quite degraded from its holiness, being
|
||
made out to be indulgent and conformable to our convenience, or else
|
||
men strain their notions of their vocation and their expectation to an
|
||
unattainable goal, hoping to acquire complete holiness of will, and so
|
||
they lose themselves in fanatical theosophic dreams, which wholly
|
||
contradict self-knowledge. In both cases the unceasing effort to
|
||
obey punctually and thoroughly a strict and inflexible command of
|
||
reason, which yet is not ideal but real, is only hindered. For a
|
||
rational but finite being, the only thing possible is an endless
|
||
progress from the lower to higher degrees of moral perfection. The
|
||
Infinite Being, to whom the condition of time is nothing, sees in this
|
||
to us endless succession a whole of accordance with the moral law; and
|
||
the holiness which his command inexorably requires, in order to be
|
||
true to his justice in the share which He assigns to each in the
|
||
summum bonum, is to be found in a single intellectual intuition of the
|
||
whole existence of rational beings. All that can be expected of the
|
||
creature in respect of the hope of this participation would be the
|
||
consciousness of his tried character, by which from the progress he
|
||
has hitherto made from the worse to the morally better, and the
|
||
immutability of purpose which has thus become known to him, he may
|
||
hope for a further unbroken continuance of the same, however long
|
||
his existence may last, even beyond this life,* and thus he may
|
||
hope, not indeed here, nor in any imaginable point of his future
|
||
existence, but only in the endlessness of his duration (which God
|
||
alone can survey) to be perfectly adequate to his will (without
|
||
indulgence or excuse, which do not harmonize with justice).
|
||
-
|
||
*It seems, nevertheless, impossible for a creature to have the
|
||
conviction of his unwavering firmness of mind in the progress
|
||
towards goodness. On this account the Christian religion makes it come
|
||
only from the same Spirit that works sanctification, that is, this
|
||
firm purpose, and with it the consciousness of steadfastness in the
|
||
moral progress. But naturally one who is conscious that he has
|
||
persevered through a long portion of his life up to the end in the
|
||
progress to the better, and this genuine moral motives, may well
|
||
have the comforting hope, though not the certainty, that even in an
|
||
existence prolonged beyond this life he will continue in these
|
||
principles; and although he is never justified here in his own eyes,
|
||
nor can ever hope to be so in the increased perfection of his
|
||
nature, to which he looks forward, together with an increase of
|
||
duties, nevertheless in this progress which, though it is directed
|
||
to a goal infinitely remote, yet is in God's sight regarded as
|
||
equivalent to possession, he may have a prospect of a blessed
|
||
future; for this is the word that reason employs to designate
|
||
perfect well-being independent of all contingent causes of the
|
||
world, and which, like holiness, is an idea that can be contained only
|
||
in an endless progress and its totality, and consequently is never
|
||
fully attained by a creature.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 40}
|
||
V. The Existence of God as a Postulate of Pure Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
In the foregoing analysis the moral law led to a practical problem
|
||
which is prescribed by pure reason alone, without the aid of any
|
||
sensible motives, namely, that of the necessary completeness of the
|
||
first and principle element of the summum bonum, viz., morality;
|
||
and, as this can be perfectly solved only in eternity, to the
|
||
postulate of immortality. The same law must also lead us to affirm the
|
||
possibility of the second element of the summum bonum, viz., happiness
|
||
proportioned to that morality, and this on grounds as disinterested as
|
||
before, and solely from impartial reason; that is, it must lead to the
|
||
supposition of the existence of a cause adequate to this effect; in
|
||
other words, it must postulate the existence of God, as the
|
||
necessary condition of the possibility of the summum bonum (an
|
||
object of the will which is necessarily connected with the moral
|
||
legislation of pure reason). We proceed to exhibit this connection
|
||
in a convincing manner.
|
||
Happiness is the condition of a rational being in the world with
|
||
whom everything goes according to his wish and will; it rests,
|
||
therefore, on the harmony of physical nature with his whole end and
|
||
likewise with the essential determining principle of his will. Now the
|
||
moral law as a law of freedom commands by determining principles,
|
||
which ought to be quite independent of nature and of its harmony
|
||
with our faculty of desire (as springs). But the acting rational being
|
||
in the world is not the cause of the world and of nature itself. There
|
||
is not the least ground, therefore, in the moral law for a necessary
|
||
connection between morality and proportionate happiness in a being
|
||
that belongs to the world as part of it, and therefore dependent on
|
||
it, and which for that reason cannot by his will be a cause of this
|
||
nature, nor by his own power make it thoroughly harmonize, as far as
|
||
his happiness is concerned, with his practical principles.
|
||
Nevertheless, in the practical problem of pure reason, i.e., the
|
||
necessary pursuit of the summum bonum, such a connection is postulated
|
||
as necessary: we ought to endeavour to promote the summum bonum,
|
||
which, therefore, must be possible. Accordingly, the existence of a
|
||
cause of all nature, distinct from nature itself and containing the
|
||
principle of this connection, namely, of the exact harmony of
|
||
happiness with morality, is also postulated. Now this supreme cause
|
||
must contain the principle of the harmony of nature, not merely with a
|
||
law of the will of rational beings, but with the conception of this
|
||
law, in so far as they make it the supreme determining principle of
|
||
the will, and consequently not merely with the form of morals, but
|
||
with their morality as their motive, that is, with their moral
|
||
character. Therefore, the summum bonum is possible in the world only
|
||
on the supposition of a Supreme Being having a causality corresponding
|
||
to moral character. Now a being that is capable of acting on the
|
||
conception of laws is an intelligence (a rational being), and the
|
||
causality of such a being according to this conception of laws is
|
||
his will; therefore the supreme cause of nature, which must be
|
||
presupposed as a condition of the summum bonum is a being which is the
|
||
cause of nature by intelligence and will, consequently its author,
|
||
that is God. It follows that the postulate of the possibility of the
|
||
highest derived good (the best world) is likewise the postulate of the
|
||
reality of a highest original good, that is to say, of the existence
|
||
of God. Now it was seen to be a duty for us to promote the summum
|
||
bonum; consequently it is not merely allowable, but it is a
|
||
necessity connected with duty as a requisite, that we should
|
||
presuppose the possibility of this summum bonum; and as this is
|
||
possible only on condition of the existence of God, it inseparably
|
||
connects the supposition of this with duty; that is, it is morally
|
||
necessary to assume the existence of God.
|
||
It must be remarked here that this moral necessity is subjective,
|
||
that is, it is a want, and not objective, that is, itself a duty,
|
||
for there cannot be a duty to suppose the existence of anything (since
|
||
this concerns only the theoretical employment of reason). Moreover, it
|
||
is not meant by this that it is necessary to suppose the existence
|
||
of God as a basis of all obligation in general (for this rests, as has
|
||
been sufficiently proved, simply on the autonomy of reason itself).
|
||
What belongs to duty here is only the endeavour to realize and promote
|
||
the summum bonum in the world, the possibility of which can
|
||
therefore be postulated; and as our reason finds it not conceivable
|
||
except on the supposition of a supreme intelligence, the admission
|
||
of this existence is therefore connected with the consciousness of our
|
||
duty, although the admission itself belongs to the domain of
|
||
speculative reason. Considered in respect of this alone, as a
|
||
principle of explanation, it may be called a hypothesis, but in
|
||
reference to the intelligibility of an object given us by the moral
|
||
law (the summum bonum), and consequently of a requirement for
|
||
practical purposes, it may be called faith, that is to say a pure
|
||
rational faith, since pure reason (both in its theoretical and
|
||
practical use) is the sole source from which it springs.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 45}
|
||
From this deduction it is now intelligible why the Greek schools
|
||
could never attain the solution of their problem of the practical
|
||
possibility of the summum bonum, because they made the rule of the use
|
||
which the will of man makes of his freedom the sole and sufficient
|
||
ground of this possibility, thinking that they had no need for that
|
||
purpose of the existence of God. No doubt they were so far right
|
||
that they established the principle of morals of itself
|
||
independently of this postulate, from the relation of reason only to
|
||
the will, and consequently made it the supreme practical condition
|
||
of the summum bonum; but it was not therefore the whole condition of
|
||
its possibility. The Epicureans had indeed assumed as the supreme
|
||
principle of morality a wholly false one, namely that of happiness,
|
||
and had substituted for a law a maxim of arbitrary choice according to
|
||
every man's inclination; they proceeded, however, consistently
|
||
enough in this, that they degraded their summum bonum likewise, just
|
||
in proportion to the meanness of their fundamental principle, and
|
||
looked for no greater happiness than can be attained by human prudence
|
||
(including temperance and moderation of the inclinations), and this as
|
||
we know would be scanty enough and would be very different according
|
||
to circumstances; not to mention the exceptions that their maxims must
|
||
perpetually admit and which make them incapable of being laws. The
|
||
Stoics, on the contrary, had chosen their supreme practical
|
||
principle quite rightly, making virtue the condition of the summum
|
||
bonum; but when they represented the degree of virtue required by
|
||
its pure law as fully attainable in this life, they not only
|
||
strained the moral powers of the man whom they called the wise
|
||
beyond all the limits of his nature, and assumed a thing that
|
||
contradicts all our knowledge of men, but also and principally they
|
||
would not allow the second element of the summum bonum, namely,
|
||
happiness, to be properly a special object of human desire, but made
|
||
their wise man, like a divinity in his consciousness of the excellence
|
||
of his person, wholly independent of nature (as regards his own
|
||
contentment); they exposed him indeed to the evils of life, but made
|
||
him not subject to them (at the same time representing him also as
|
||
free from moral evil). They thus, in fact, left out the second element
|
||
of the summum bonum namely, personal happiness, placing it solely in
|
||
action and satisfaction with one's own personal worth, thus
|
||
including it in the consciousness of being morally minded, in which
|
||
they Might have been sufficiently refuted by the voice of their own
|
||
nature.
|
||
The doctrine of Christianity,* even if we do not yet consider it
|
||
as a religious doctrine, gives, touching this point, a conception of
|
||
the summum bonum (the kingdom of God), which alone satisfies the
|
||
strictest demand of practical reason. The moral law is holy
|
||
(unyielding) and demands holiness of morals, although all the moral
|
||
perfection to which man can attain is still only virtue, that is, a
|
||
rightful disposition arising from respect for the law, implying
|
||
consciousness of a constant propensity to transgression, or at least a
|
||
want of purity, that is, a mixture of many spurious (not moral)
|
||
motives of obedience to the law, consequently a self-esteem combined
|
||
with humility. In respect, then, of the holiness which the Christian
|
||
law requires, this leaves the creature nothing but a progress in
|
||
infinitum, but for that very reason it justifies him in hoping for
|
||
an endless duration of his existence. The worth of a character
|
||
perfectly accordant with the moral law is infinite, since the only
|
||
restriction on all possible happiness in the judgement of a wise and
|
||
all powerful distributor of it is the absence of conformity of
|
||
rational beings to their duty. But the moral law of itself does not
|
||
promise any happiness, for according to our conceptions of an order of
|
||
nature in general, this is not necessarily connected with obedience to
|
||
the law. Now Christian morality supplies this defect (of the second
|
||
indispensable element of the summum bonum) by representing the world
|
||
in which rational beings devote themselves with all their soul to
|
||
the moral law, as a kingdom of God, in which nature and morality are
|
||
brought into a harmony foreign to each of itself, by a holy Author who
|
||
makes the derived summum bonum possible. Holiness of life is
|
||
prescribed to them as a rule even in this life, while the welfare
|
||
proportioned to it, namely, bliss, is represented as attainable only
|
||
in an eternity; because the former must always be the pattern of their
|
||
conduct in every state, and progress towards it is already possible
|
||
and necessary in this life; while the latter, under the name of
|
||
happiness, cannot be attained at all in this world (so far as our
|
||
own power is concerned), and therefore is made simply an object of
|
||
hope. Nevertheless, the Christian principle of morality itself is
|
||
not theological (so as to be heteronomy), but is autonomy of pure
|
||
practical reason, since it does not make the knowledge of God and
|
||
His will the foundation of these laws, but only of the attainment of
|
||
the summum bonum, on condition of following these laws, and it does
|
||
not even place the proper spring of this obedience in the desired
|
||
results, but solely in the conception of duty, as that of which the
|
||
faithful observance alone constitutes the worthiness to obtain those
|
||
happy consequences.
|
||
-
|
||
*It is commonly held that the Christian precept of morality has no
|
||
advantage in respect of purity over the moral conceptions of the
|
||
Stoics; the distinction between them is, however, very obvious. The
|
||
Stoic system made the consciousness of strength of mind the pivot on
|
||
which all moral dispositions should turn; and although its disciples
|
||
spoke of duties and even defined them very well, yet they placed the
|
||
spring and proper determining principle of the will in an elevation of
|
||
the mind above the lower springs of the senses, which owe their
|
||
power only to weakness of mind. With them therefore, virtue was a sort
|
||
of heroism in the wise man raising himself above the animal nature
|
||
of man, is sufficient for Himself, and, while he prescribes duties
|
||
to others, is himself raised above them, and is not subject to any
|
||
temptation to transgress the moral law. All this, however, they
|
||
could not have done if they had conceived this law in all its purity
|
||
and strictness, as the precept of the Gospel does. When I give the
|
||
name idea to a perfection to which nothing adequate can be given in
|
||
experience, it does not follow that the moral ideas are thing
|
||
transcendent, that is something of which we could not even determine
|
||
the concept adequately, or of which it is uncertain whether there is
|
||
any object corresponding to it at all, as is the case with the ideas
|
||
of speculative reason; on the contrary, being types of practical
|
||
perfection, they serve as the indispensable rule of conduct and
|
||
likewise as the standard of comparison. Now if I consider Christian
|
||
morals on their philosophical side, then compared with the ideas of
|
||
the Greek schools, they would appear as follows: the ideas of the
|
||
Cynics, the Epicureans, the Stoics, and the Christians are: simplicity
|
||
of nature, prudence, wisdom, and holiness. In respect of the way of
|
||
attaining them, the Greek schools were distinguished from one
|
||
another thus that the Cynics only required common sense, the others
|
||
the path of science, but both found the mere use of natural powers
|
||
sufficient for the purpose. Christian morality, because its precept is
|
||
framed (as a moral precept must be) so pure and unyielding, takes from
|
||
man all confidence that be can be fully adequate to it, at least in
|
||
this life, but again sets it up by enabling us to hope that if we
|
||
act as well as it is in our power to do, then what is not in our power
|
||
will come in to our aid from another source, whether we know how
|
||
this may be or not. Aristotle and Plato differed only as to the origin
|
||
of our moral conceptions.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 50}
|
||
In this manner, the moral laws lead through the conception of the
|
||
summum bonum as the object and final end of pure practical reason to
|
||
religion, that is, to the recognition of all duties as divine
|
||
commands, not as sanctions, that is to say, arbitrary ordinances of
|
||
a foreign and contingent in themselves, but as essential laws of every
|
||
free will in itself, which, nevertheless, must be regarded as commands
|
||
of the Supreme Being, because it is only from a morally perfect
|
||
(holy and good) and at the same time all-powerful will, and
|
||
consequently only through harmony with this will, that we can hope
|
||
to attain the summum bonum which the moral law makes it our duty to
|
||
take as the object of our endeavours. Here again, then, all remains
|
||
disinterested and founded merely on duty; neither fear nor hope
|
||
being made the fundamental springs, which if taken as principles would
|
||
destroy the whole moral worth of actions. The moral law commands me to
|
||
make the highest possible good in a world the ultimate object of all
|
||
my conduct. But I cannot hope to effect this otherwise than by the
|
||
harmony of my will with that of a holy and good Author of the world;
|
||
and although the conception of the summum bonum as a whole, in which
|
||
the greatest happiness is conceived as combined in the most exact
|
||
proportion with the highest degree of moral perfection (possible in
|
||
creatures), includes my own happiness, yet it is not this that is
|
||
the determining principle of the will which is enjoined to promote the
|
||
summum bonum, but the moral law, which, on the contrary, limits by
|
||
strict conditions my unbounded desire of happiness.
|
||
Hence also morality is not properly the doctrine how we should
|
||
make ourselves happy, but how we should become worthy of happiness. It
|
||
is only when religion is added that there also comes in the hope of
|
||
participating some day in happiness in proportion as we have
|
||
endeavoured to be not unworthy of it.
|
||
A man is worthy to possess a thing or a state when his possession of
|
||
it is in harmony with the summum bonum. We can now easily see that all
|
||
worthiness depends on moral conduct, since in the conception of the
|
||
summum bonum this constitutes the condition of the rest (which belongs
|
||
to one's state), namely, the participation of happiness. Now it
|
||
follows from this that morality should never be treated as a
|
||
doctrine of happiness, that is, an instruction how to become happy;
|
||
for it has to do simply with the rational condition (conditio sine qua
|
||
non) of happiness, not with the means of attaining it. But when
|
||
morality has been completely expounded (which merely imposes duties
|
||
instead of providing rules for selfish desires), then first, after the
|
||
moral desire to promote the summum bonum (to bring the kingdom of
|
||
God to us) has been awakened, a desire founded on a law, and which
|
||
could not previously arise in any selfish mind, and when for the
|
||
behoof of this desire the step to religion has been taken, then this
|
||
ethical doctrine may be also called a doctrine of happiness because
|
||
the hope of happiness first begins with religion only.
|
||
We can also see from this that, when we ask what is God's ultimate
|
||
end in creating the world, we must not name the happiness of the
|
||
rational beings in it, but the summum bonum, which adds a further
|
||
condition to that wish of such beings, namely, the condition of
|
||
being worthy of happiness, that is, the morality of these same
|
||
rational beings, a condition which alone contains the rule by which
|
||
only they can hope to share in the former at the hand of a wise
|
||
Author. For as wisdom, theoretically considered, signifies the
|
||
knowledge of the summum bonum and, practically, the accordance of
|
||
the will with the summum bonum, we cannot attribute to a supreme
|
||
independent wisdom an end based merely on goodness. For we cannot
|
||
conceive the action of this goodness (in respect of the happiness of
|
||
rational beings) as suitable to the highest original good, except
|
||
under the restrictive conditions of harmony with the holiness* of
|
||
his will. Therefore, those who placed the end of creation in the glory
|
||
of God (provided that this is not conceived anthropomorphically as a
|
||
desire to be praised) have perhaps hit upon the best expression. For
|
||
nothing glorifies God more than that which is the most estimable thing
|
||
in the world, respect for his command, the observance of the holy duty
|
||
that his law imposes on us, when there is added thereto his glorious
|
||
plan of crowning such a beautiful order of things with corresponding
|
||
happiness. If the latter (to speak humanly) makes Him worthy of
|
||
love, by the former He is an object of adoration. Even men can never
|
||
acquire respect by benevolence alone, though they may gain love, so
|
||
that the greatest beneficence only procures them honour when it is
|
||
regulated by worthiness.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 55}
|
||
*In order to make these characteristics of these conceptions
|
||
clear, I add the remark that whilst we ascribe to God various
|
||
attributes, the quality of which we also find applicable to creatures,
|
||
only that in Him they are raised to the highest degree, e.g., power,
|
||
knowledge, presence, goodness, etc., under the designations of
|
||
omnipotence, omniscience, omnipresence, etc., there are three that are
|
||
ascribed to God exclusively, and yet without the addition of
|
||
greatness, and which are all moral He is the only holy, the only
|
||
blessed, the only wise, because these conceptions already imply the
|
||
absence of limitation. In the order of these attributes He is also the
|
||
holy lawgiver (and creator), the good governor (and preserver) and the
|
||
just judge, three attributes which include everything by which God
|
||
is the object of religion, and in conformity with which the
|
||
metaphysical perfections are added of themselves in the reason.
|
||
-
|
||
That in the order of ends, man (and with him every rational being)
|
||
is an end in himself, that is, that he can never be used merely as a
|
||
means by any (not even by God) without being at the same time an end
|
||
also himself, that therefore humanity in our person must be holy to
|
||
ourselves, this follows now of itself because he is the subject of the
|
||
moral law, in other words, of that which is holy in itself, and on
|
||
account of which and in agreement with which alone can anything be
|
||
termed holy. For this moral law is founded on the autonomy of his
|
||
will, as a free will which by its universal laws must necessarily be
|
||
able to agree with that to which it is to submit itself.
|
||
-
|
||
VI. Of the Postulates of Pure Practical Reason Generally.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 60}
|
||
-
|
||
They all proceed from the principle of morality, which is not a
|
||
postulate but a law, by which reason determines the will directly,
|
||
which will, because it is so determined as a pure will, requires these
|
||
necessary conditions of obedience to its precept. These postulates are
|
||
not theoretical dogmas but, suppositions practically necessary;
|
||
while then they do [not] extend our speculative knowledge, they give
|
||
objective reality to the ideas of speculative reason in general (by
|
||
means of their reference to what is practical), and give it a right to
|
||
concepts, the possibility even of which it could not otherwise venture
|
||
to affirm.
|
||
These postulates are those of immortality, freedom positively
|
||
considered (as the causality of a being so far as he belongs to the
|
||
intelligible world), and the existence of God. The first results
|
||
from the practically necessary condition of a duration adequate to the
|
||
complete fulfilment of the moral law; the second from the necessary
|
||
supposition of independence of the sensible world, and of the
|
||
faculty of determining one's will according to the law of an
|
||
intelligible world, that is, of freedom; the third from the
|
||
necessary condition of the existence of the summum bonum in such an
|
||
intelligible world, by the supposition of the supreme independent
|
||
good, that is, the existence of God.
|
||
Thus the fact that respect for the moral law necessarily makes the
|
||
summum bonum an object of our endeavours, and the supposition thence
|
||
resulting of its objective reality, lead through the postulates of
|
||
practical reason to conceptions which speculative reason might
|
||
indeed present as problems, but could never solve. Thus it leads: 1.
|
||
To that one in the solution of which the latter could do nothing but
|
||
commit paralogisms (namely, that of immortality), because it could not
|
||
lay hold of the character of permanence, by which to complete the
|
||
psychological conception of an ultimate subject necessarily ascribed
|
||
to the soul in self-consciousness, so as to make it the real
|
||
conception of a substance, a character which practical reason
|
||
furnishes by the postulate of a duration required for accordance
|
||
with the moral law in the summum bonum, which is the whole end of
|
||
practical reason. 2. It leads to that of which speculative reason
|
||
contained nothing but antinomy, the solution of which it could only
|
||
found on a notion Problematically conceivable indeed, but whose
|
||
objective reality it could not prove or determine, namely, the
|
||
cosmological idea of an intelligible world and the consciousness of
|
||
our existence in it, by means of the postulate of freedom (the reality
|
||
of which it lays down by virtue of the moral law), and with it
|
||
likewise the law of an intelligible world, to which speculative reason
|
||
could only point, but could not define its conception. 3. What
|
||
speculative reason was able to think, but was obliged to leave
|
||
undetermined as a mere transcendental ideal, viz., the theological
|
||
conception of the first Being, to this it gives significance (in a
|
||
practical view, that is, as a condition of the possibility of the
|
||
object of a will determined by that law), namely, as the supreme
|
||
principle of the summum bonum in an intelligible world, by means of
|
||
moral legislation in it invested with sovereign power.
|
||
Is our knowledge, however, actually extended in this way by pure
|
||
practical reason, and is that immanent in practical reason which for
|
||
the speculative was only transcendent? Certainly, but only in a
|
||
practical point of view. For we do not thereby take knowledge of the
|
||
nature of our souls, nor of the intelligible world, nor of the Supreme
|
||
Being, with respect to what they are in themselves, but we have merely
|
||
combined the conceptions of them in the practical concept of the
|
||
summum bonum as the object of our will, and this altogether a
|
||
priori, but only by means of the moral law, and merely in reference to
|
||
it, in respect of the object which it commands. But how freedom is
|
||
possible, and how we are to conceive this kind of causality
|
||
theoretically and positively, is not thereby discovered; but only that
|
||
there is such a causality is postulated by the moral law and in its
|
||
behoof. It is the same with the remaining ideas, the possibility of
|
||
which no human intelligence will ever fathom, but the truth of
|
||
which, on the other hand, no sophistry will ever wrest from the
|
||
conviction even of the commonest man.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 65}
|
||
-
|
||
VII. How is it possible to conceive an Extension of Pure
|
||
Reason in a Practical point of view, without its
|
||
Knowledge as Speculative being enlarged at
|
||
the same time?
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 70}
|
||
-
|
||
In order not to be too abstract, we will answer this question at
|
||
once in its application to the present case. In order to extend a pure
|
||
cognition practically, there must be an a priori purpose given, that
|
||
is, an end as object (of the will), which independently of all
|
||
theological principle is presented as practically necessary by an
|
||
imperative which determines the will directly (a categorical
|
||
imperative), and in this case that is the summum bonum. This, however,
|
||
is not possible without presupposing three theoretical conceptions
|
||
(for which, because they are mere conceptions of pure reason, no
|
||
corresponding intuition can be found, nor consequently by the path
|
||
of theory any objective reality); namely, freedom, immortality, and
|
||
God. Thus by the practical law which commands the existence of the
|
||
highest good possible in a world, the possibility of those objects
|
||
of pure speculative reason is postulated, and the objective reality
|
||
which the latter could not assure them. By this the theoretical
|
||
knowledge of pure reason does indeed obtain an accession; but it
|
||
consists only in this, that those concepts which otherwise it had to
|
||
look upon as problematical (merely thinkable) concepts, are now
|
||
shown assertorially to be such as actually have objects; because
|
||
practical reason indispensably requires their existence for the
|
||
possibility of its object, the summum bonum, which practically is
|
||
absolutely necessary, and this justifies theoretical reason in
|
||
assuming them. But this extension of theoretical reason is no
|
||
extension of speculative, that is, we cannot make any positive use
|
||
of it in a theoretical point of view. For as nothing is accomplished
|
||
in this by practical reason, further than that these concepts are real
|
||
and actually have their (possible) objects, and nothing in the way
|
||
of intuition of them is given thereby (which indeed could not be
|
||
demanded), hence the admission of this reality does not render any
|
||
synthetical proposition possible. Consequently, this discovery does
|
||
not in the least help us to extend this knowledge of ours in a
|
||
speculative point of view, although it does in respect of the
|
||
practical employment of pure reason. The above three ideas of
|
||
speculative reason are still in themselves not cognitions; they are
|
||
however (transcendent) thoughts, in which there is nothing impossible.
|
||
Now, by help of an apodeictic practical law, being necessary
|
||
conditions of that which it commands to be made an object, they
|
||
acquire objective reality; that is, we learn from it that they have
|
||
objects, without being able to point out how the conception of them is
|
||
related to an object, and this, too, is still not a cognition of these
|
||
objects; for we cannot thereby form any synthetical judgement about
|
||
them, nor determine their application theoretically; consequently,
|
||
we can make no theoretical rational use of them at all, in which use
|
||
all speculative knowledge of reason consists. Nevertheless, the
|
||
theoretical knowledge, not indeed of these objects, but of reason
|
||
generally, is so far enlarged by this, that by the practical
|
||
postulates objects were given to those ideas, a merely problematical
|
||
thought having by this means first acquired objective reality. There
|
||
is therefore no extension of the knowledge of given supersensible
|
||
objects, but an extension of theoretical reason and of its knowledge
|
||
in respect of the supersensible generally; inasmuch as it is compelled
|
||
to admit that there are such objects, although it is not able to
|
||
define them more closely, so as itself to extend this knowledge of the
|
||
objects (which have now been given it on practical grounds, and only
|
||
for practical use). For this accession, then, pure theoretical reason,
|
||
for which all those ideas are transcendent and without object, has
|
||
simply to thank its practical faculty. In this they become immanent
|
||
and constitutive, being the source of the possibility of realizing the
|
||
necessary object of pure practical reason (the summum bonum);
|
||
whereas apart from this they are transcendent, and merely regulative
|
||
principles of speculative reason, which do not require it to assume
|
||
a new object beyond experience, but only to bring its use in
|
||
experience nearer to completeness. But when once reason is in
|
||
possession of this accession, it will go to work with these ideas as
|
||
speculative reason (properly only to assure the certainty of its
|
||
practical use) in a negative manner: that is, not extending but
|
||
clearing up its knowledge so as on one side to keep off
|
||
anthropomorphism, as the source of superstition, or seeming
|
||
extension of these conceptions by supposed experience; and on the
|
||
other side fanaticism, which promises the same by means of
|
||
supersensible intuition or feelings of the like kind. All these are
|
||
hindrances to the practical use of pure reason, so that the removal of
|
||
them may certainly be considered an extension of our knowledge in a
|
||
practical point of view, without contradicting the admission that
|
||
for speculative purposes reason has not in the least gained by this.
|
||
Every employment of reason in respect of an object requires pure
|
||
concepts of the understanding (categories), without which no object
|
||
can be conceived. These can be applied to the theoretical employment
|
||
of reason, i.e., to that kind of knowledge, only in case an
|
||
intuition (which is always sensible) is taken as a basis, and
|
||
therefore merely in order to conceive by means of- them an object of
|
||
possible experience. Now here what have to be thought by means of
|
||
the categories in order to be known are ideas of reason, which
|
||
cannot be given in any experience. Only we are not here concerned with
|
||
the theoretical knowledge of the objects of these ideas, but only with
|
||
this, whether they have objects at all. This reality is supplied by
|
||
pure practical reason, and theoretical reason has nothing further to
|
||
do in this but to think those objects by means of categories. This, as
|
||
we have elsewhere clearly shown, can be done well enough without
|
||
needing any intuition (either sensible or supersensible) because the
|
||
categories have their seat and origin in the pure understanding,
|
||
simply as the faculty of thought, before and independently of any
|
||
intuition, and they always only signify an object in general, no
|
||
matter in what way it may be given to us. Now when the categories
|
||
are to be applied to these ideas, it is not possible to give them
|
||
any object in intuition; but that such an object actually exists,
|
||
and consequently that the category as a mere form of thought is here
|
||
not empty but has significance, this is sufficiently assured them by
|
||
an object which practical reason presents beyond doubt in the
|
||
concept of the summum bonum, the reality of the conceptions which
|
||
are required for the possibility of the summum bonum; without,
|
||
however, effecting by this accession the least extension of our
|
||
knowledge on theoretical principles.
|
||
-
|
||
When these ideas of God, of an intelligible world (the kingdom of
|
||
God), and of immortality are further determined by predicates taken
|
||
from our own nature, we must not regard this determination as a
|
||
sensualizing of those pure rational ideas (anthropomorphism), nor as a
|
||
transcendent knowledge of supersensible objects; for these
|
||
predicates are no others than understanding and will, considered too
|
||
in the relation to each other in which they must be conceived in the
|
||
moral law, and therefore, only so far as a pure practical use is
|
||
made of them. As to all the rest that belongs to these conceptions
|
||
psychologically, that is, so far as we observe these faculties of ours
|
||
empirically in their exercise (e.g., that the understanding of man
|
||
is discursive, and its notions therefore not intuitions but
|
||
thoughts, that these follow one another in time, that his will has its
|
||
satisfaction always dependent on the existence of its object, etc.,
|
||
which cannot be the case in the Supreme Being), from all this we
|
||
abstract in that case, and then there remains of the notions by
|
||
which we conceive a pure intelligence nothing more than just what is
|
||
required for the possibility of conceiving a moral law. There is
|
||
then a knowledge of God indeed, but only for practical purposes,
|
||
and, if we attempt to extend it to a theoretical knowledge, we find an
|
||
understanding that has intuitions, not thoughts, a will that is
|
||
directed to objects on the existence of which its satisfaction does
|
||
not in the least depend (not to mention the transcendental predicates,
|
||
as, for example, a magnitude of existence, that is duration, which,
|
||
however, is not in time, the only possible means we have of conceiving
|
||
existence as magnitude). Now these are all attributes of which we
|
||
can form no conception that would help to the knowledge of the object,
|
||
and we learn from this that they can never be used for a theory of
|
||
supersensible beings, so that on this side they are quite incapable of
|
||
being the foundation of a speculative knowledge, and their use is
|
||
limited simply to the practice of the moral law.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 75}
|
||
This last is so obvious, and can be proved so clearly by fact,
|
||
that we may confidently challenge all pretended natural theologians (a
|
||
singular name)* to specify (over and above the merely ontological
|
||
predicates) one single attribute, whether of the understanding or of
|
||
the will, determining this object of theirs, of which we could not
|
||
show incontrovertibly that, if we abstract from it everything
|
||
anthropomorphic, nothing would remain to us but the mere word, without
|
||
our being able to connect with it the smallest notion by which we
|
||
could hope for an extension of theoretical knowledge. But as to the
|
||
practical, there still remains to us of the attributes of
|
||
understanding and will the conception of a relation to which objective
|
||
reality is given by the practical law (which determines a priori
|
||
precisely this relation of the understanding to the will). When once
|
||
this is done, then reality is given to the conception of the object of
|
||
a will morally determined (the conception of the summum bonum), and
|
||
with it to the conditions of its possibility, the ideas of God,
|
||
freedom, and immortality, but always only relatively to the practice
|
||
of the moral law (and not for any speculative purpose).
|
||
-
|
||
*Learning is properly only the whole content of the historical
|
||
sciences. Consequently it is only the teacher of revealed theology
|
||
that can be called a learned theologian. If, however, we choose to
|
||
call a man learned who is in possession of the rational sciences
|
||
(mathematics and philosophy), although even this would be contrary
|
||
to the signification of the word (which always counts as learning only
|
||
that which one must be "learned" and which, therefore, he cannot
|
||
discover of himself by reason), even in that case the philosopher
|
||
would make too poor a figure with his knowledge of God as a positive
|
||
science to let himself be called on that account a learned man.
|
||
-
|
||
According to these remarks it is now easy to find the answer to
|
||
the weighty question whether the notion of God is one belonging to
|
||
physics (and therefore also to metaphysics, which contains the pure
|
||
a priori principles of the former in their universal import) or to
|
||
morals. If we have recourse to God as the Author of all things, in
|
||
order to explain the arrangements of nature or its changes, this is at
|
||
least not a physical explanation, and is a complete confession that
|
||
our philosophy has come to an end, since we are obliged to assume
|
||
something of which in itself we have otherwise no conception, in order
|
||
to be able to frame a conception of the possibility of what we see
|
||
before our eyes. Metaphysics, however, cannot enable us to attain by
|
||
certain inference from the knowledge of this world to the conception
|
||
of God and to the proof of His existence, for this reason, that in
|
||
order to say that this world could be produced only by a God
|
||
(according to the conception implied by this word) we should know this
|
||
world as the most perfect whole possible; and for this purpose
|
||
should also know all possible worlds (in order to be able to compare
|
||
them with this); in other words, we should be omniscient. It is
|
||
absolutely impossible, however, to know the existence of this Being
|
||
from mere concepts, because every existential proposition, that is,
|
||
every proposition that affirms the existence of a being of which I
|
||
frame a concept, is a synthetic proposition, that is, one by which I
|
||
go beyond that conception and affirm of it more than was thought in
|
||
the conception itself; namely, that this concept in the
|
||
understanding has an object corresponding to it outside the
|
||
understanding, and this it is obviously impossible to elicit by any
|
||
reasoning. There remains, therefore, only one single process
|
||
possible for reason to attain this knowledge, namely, to start from
|
||
the supreme principle of its pure practical use (which in every case
|
||
is directed simply to the existence of something as a consequence of
|
||
reason) and thus determine its object. Then its inevitable problem,
|
||
namely, the necessary direction of the will to the summum bonum,
|
||
discovers to us not only the necessity of assuming such a First
|
||
Being in reference to the possibility of this good in the world,
|
||
but, what is most remarkable, something which reason in its progress
|
||
on the path of physical nature altogether failed to find, namely, an
|
||
accurately defined conception of this First Being. As we can know only
|
||
a small part of this world, and can still less compare it with all
|
||
possible worlds, we may indeed from its order, design, and
|
||
greatness, infer a wise, good, powerful, etc., Author of it, but not
|
||
that He is all-wise, all-good, all-powerful, etc. It may indeed very
|
||
well be granted that we should be justified in supplying this
|
||
inevitable defect by a legitimate and reasonable hypothesis; namely,
|
||
that when wisdom, goodness, etc, are displayed in all the parts that
|
||
offer themselves to our nearer knowledge, it is just the same in all
|
||
the rest, and that it would therefore be reasonable to ascribe all
|
||
possible perfections to the Author of the world, but these are not
|
||
strict logical inferences in which we can pride ourselves on our
|
||
insight, but only permitted conclusions in which we may be indulged
|
||
and which require further recommendation before we can make use of
|
||
them. On the path of empirical inquiry then (physics), the
|
||
conception of God remains always a conception of the perfection of the
|
||
First Being not accurately enough determined to be held adequate to
|
||
the conception of Deity. (With metaphysic in its transcendental part
|
||
nothing whatever can be accomplished.)
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 80}
|
||
When I now try to test this conception by reference to the object of
|
||
practical reason, I find that the moral principle admits as possible
|
||
only the conception of an Author of the world possessed of the highest
|
||
perfection. He must be omniscient, in order to know my conduct up to
|
||
the inmost root of my mental state in all possible cases and into
|
||
all future time; omnipotent, in order to allot to it its fitting
|
||
consequences; similarly He must be omnipresent, eternal, etc. Thus the
|
||
moral law, by means of the conception of the summum bonum as the
|
||
object of a pure practical reason, determines the concept of the First
|
||
Being as the Supreme Being; a thing which the physical (and in its
|
||
higher development the metaphysical), in other words, the whole
|
||
speculative course of reason, was unable to effect. The conception
|
||
of God, then, is one that belongs originally not to physics, i.e.,
|
||
to speculative reason, but to morals. The same may be said of the
|
||
other conceptions of reason of which we have treated above as
|
||
postulates of it in its practical use.
|
||
In the history of Grecian philosophy we find no distinct traces of a
|
||
pure rational theology earlier than Anaxagoras; but this is not
|
||
because the older philosophers had not intelligence or penetration
|
||
enough to raise themselves to it by the path of speculation, at
|
||
least with the aid of a thoroughly reasonable hypothesis. What could
|
||
have been easier, what more natural, than the thought which of
|
||
itself occurs to everyone, to assume instead of several causes of
|
||
the world, instead of an indeterminate degree of perfection, a
|
||
single rational cause having all perfection? But the evils in the
|
||
world seemed to them to be much too serious objections to allow them
|
||
to feel themselves justified in such a hypothesis. They showed
|
||
intelligence and penetration then in this very point, that they did
|
||
not allow themselves to adopt it, but on the contrary looked about
|
||
amongst natural causes to see if they could not find in them the
|
||
qualities and power required for a First Being. But when this acute
|
||
people had advanced so far in their investigations of nature as to
|
||
treat even moral questions philosophically, on which other nations had
|
||
never done anything but talk, then first they found a new and
|
||
practical want, which did not fail to give definiteness to their
|
||
conception of the First Being: and in this the speculative reason
|
||
played the part of spectator, or at best had the merit of embellishing
|
||
a conception that had not grown on its own ground, and of applying a
|
||
series of confirmations from the study of nature now brought forward
|
||
for the first time, not indeed to strengthen the authority of this
|
||
conception (which was already established), but rather to make a
|
||
show with a supposed discovery of theoretical reason.
|
||
-
|
||
From these remarks, the reader of the Critique of Pure Speculative
|
||
Reason will be thoroughly convinced how highly necessary that
|
||
laborious deduction of the categories was, and how fruitful for
|
||
theology and morals. For if, on the one hand, we place them in pure
|
||
understanding, it is by this deduction alone that we can be
|
||
prevented from regarding them, with Plato, as innate, and founding
|
||
on them extravagant pretensions to theories of the supersensible, to
|
||
which we can see no end, and by which we should make theology a
|
||
magic lantern of chimeras; on the other hand, if we regard them as
|
||
acquired, this deduction saves us from restricting, with Epicurus, all
|
||
and every use of them, even for practical purposes, to the objects and
|
||
motives of the senses. But now that the Critique has shown by that
|
||
deduction, first, that they are not of empirical origin, but have
|
||
their seat and source a priori in the pure understanding; secondly,
|
||
that as they refer to objects in general independently of the
|
||
intuition of them, hence, although they cannot effect theoretical
|
||
knowledge, except in application to empirical objects, yet when
|
||
applied to an object given by pure practical reason they enable us
|
||
to conceive the supersensible definitely, only so far, however, as
|
||
it is defined by such predicates as are necessarily connected with the
|
||
pure practical purpose given a priori and with its possibility. The
|
||
speculative restriction of pure reason and its practical extension
|
||
bring it into that relation of equality in which reason in general can
|
||
be employed suitably to its end, and this example proves better than
|
||
any other that the path to wisdom, if it is to be made sure and not to
|
||
be impassable or misleading, must with us men inevitably pass
|
||
through science; but it is not till this is complete that we can be
|
||
convinced that it leads to this goal.
|
||
-
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 85}
|
||
VIII. Of Belief from a Requirement of Pure Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
A want or requirement of pure reason in its speculative use leads
|
||
only to a hypothesis; that of pure practical reason to a postulate;
|
||
for in the former case I ascend from the result as high as I please in
|
||
the series of causes, not in order to give objective reality to the
|
||
result (e.g., the causal connection of things and changes in the
|
||
world), but in order thoroughly to satisfy my inquiring reason in
|
||
respect of it. Thus I see before me order and design in nature, and
|
||
need not resort to speculation to assure myself of their reality,
|
||
but to explain them I have to presuppose a Deity as their cause; and
|
||
then since the inference from an effect to a definite cause is
|
||
always uncertain and doubtful, especially to a cause so precise and so
|
||
perfectly defined as we have to conceive in God, hence the highest
|
||
degree of certainty to which this pre-supposition can be brought is
|
||
that it is the most rational opinion for us men.* On the other hand, a
|
||
requirement of pure practical reason is based on a duty, that of
|
||
making something (the summum bonum) the object of my will so as to
|
||
promote it with all my powers; in which case I must suppose its
|
||
possibility and, consequently, also the conditions necessary
|
||
thereto, namely, God, freedom, and immortality; since I cannot prove
|
||
these by my speculative reason, although neither can I refute them.
|
||
This duty is founded on something that is indeed quite independent
|
||
of these suppositions and is of itself apodeictically certain, namely,
|
||
the moral law; and so far it needs no further support by theoretical
|
||
views as to the inner constitution of things, the secret final aim
|
||
of the order of the world, or a presiding ruler thereof, in order to
|
||
bind me in the most perfect manner to act in unconditional
|
||
conformity to the law. But the subjective effect of this law,
|
||
namely, the mental disposition conformed to it and made necessary by
|
||
it, to promote the practically possible summum bonum, this
|
||
pre-supposes at least that the latter is possible, for it would be
|
||
practically impossible to strive after the object of a conception
|
||
which at bottom was empty and had no object. Now the above-mentioned
|
||
postulates concern only the physical or metaphysical conditions of the
|
||
possibility of the summum bonum; in a word, those which lie in the
|
||
nature of things; not, however, for the sake of an arbitrary
|
||
speculative purpose, but of a practically necessary end of a pure
|
||
rational will, which in this case does not choose, but obeys an
|
||
inexorable command of reason, the foundation of which is objective, in
|
||
the constitution of things as they must be universally judged by
|
||
pure reason, and is not based on inclination; for we are in nowise
|
||
justified in assuming, on account of what we wish on merely subjective
|
||
grounds, that the means thereto are possible or that its object is
|
||
real. This, then, is an absolutely necessary requirement, and what
|
||
it pre-supposes is not merely justified as an allowable hypothesis,
|
||
but as a postulate in a practical point of view; and admitting that
|
||
the pure moral law inexorably binds every man as a command (not as a
|
||
rule of prudence), the righteous man may say: "I will that there be
|
||
a God, that my existence in this world be also an existence outside
|
||
the chain of physical causes and in a pure world of the understanding,
|
||
and lastly, that my duration be endless; I firmly abide by this, and
|
||
will not let this faith be taken from me; for in this instance alone
|
||
my interest, because I must not relax anything of it, inevitably
|
||
determines my judgement, without regarding sophistries, however unable
|
||
I may be to answer them or to oppose them with others more
|
||
plausible.*[2]
|
||
-
|
||
*But even here we should not be able to allege a requirement of
|
||
reason, if we had not before our eyes a problematical, but yet
|
||
inevitable, conception of reason, namely, that of an absolutely
|
||
necessary being. This conception now seeks to be defined, and this, in
|
||
addition to the tendency to extend itself, is the objective ground
|
||
of a requirement of speculative reason, namely, to have a more precise
|
||
definition of the conception of a necessary being which is to serve as
|
||
the first cause of other beings, so as to make these latter knowable
|
||
by some means. Without such antecedent necessary problems there are no
|
||
requirements- at least not of pure reason- the rest are requirements
|
||
of inclination.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 90}
|
||
*[2] In the Deutsches Museum, February, 1787, there is a
|
||
dissertation by a very subtle and clear-headed man, the late
|
||
Wizenmann, whose early death is to be lamented, in which he disputes
|
||
the right to argue from a want to the objective reality of its object,
|
||
and illustrates the point by the example of a man in love, who
|
||
having fooled himself into an idea of beauty, which is merely a
|
||
chimera of his own brain, would fain conclude that such an object
|
||
really exists somewhere. I quite agree with him in this, in all
|
||
cases where the want is founded on inclination, which cannot
|
||
necessarily postulate the existence of its object even for the man
|
||
that is affected by it, much less can it contain a demand valid for
|
||
everyone, and therefore it is merely a subjective ground of the
|
||
wish. But in the present case we have a want of reason springing
|
||
from an objective determining principle of the will, namely, the moral
|
||
law, which necessarily binds every rational being, and therefore
|
||
justifies him in assuming a priori in nature the conditions proper for
|
||
it, and makes the latter inseparable from the complete practical use
|
||
of reason. It is a duty to realize the summum bonum to the utmost of
|
||
our power, therefore it must be possible, consequently it is
|
||
unavoidable for every rational being in the world to assume what is
|
||
necessary for its objective possibility. The assumption is as
|
||
necessary as the moral law, in connection with which alone it is
|
||
valid.
|
||
-
|
||
In order to prevent misconception in the use of a notion as yet so
|
||
unusual as that of a faith of pure practical reason, let me be
|
||
permitted to add one more remark. It might almost seem as if this
|
||
rational faith were here announced as itself a command, namely, that
|
||
we should assume the summum bonum as possible. But a faith that is
|
||
commanded is nonsense. Let the preceding analysis, however, be
|
||
remembered of what is required to be supposed in the conception of the
|
||
summum bonum, and it will be seen that it cannot be commanded to
|
||
assume this possibility, and no practical disposition of mind is
|
||
required to admit it; but that speculative reason must concede it
|
||
without being asked, for no one can affirm that it is impossible in
|
||
itself that rational beings in the world should at the same time be
|
||
worthy of happiness in conformity with the moral law and also
|
||
possess this happiness proportionately. Now in respect of the first
|
||
element of the summum bonum, namely, that which concerns morality, the
|
||
moral law gives merely a command, and to doubt the possibility of that
|
||
element would be the same as to call in question the moral law itself.
|
||
But as regards the second element of that object, namely, happiness
|
||
perfectly proportioned to that worthiness, it is true that there is no
|
||
need of a command to admit its possibility in general, for theoretical
|
||
reason has nothing to say against it; but the manner in which we
|
||
have to conceive this harmony of the laws of nature with those of
|
||
freedom has in it something in respect of which we have a choice,
|
||
because theoretical reason decides nothing with apodeictic certainty
|
||
about it, and in respect of this there may be a moral interest which
|
||
turns the scale.
|
||
I had said above that in a mere course of nature in the world an
|
||
accurate correspondence between happiness and moral worth is not to be
|
||
expected and must be regarded as impossible, and that therefore the
|
||
possibility of the summum bonum cannot be admitted from this side
|
||
except on the supposition of a moral Author of the world. I
|
||
purposely reserved the restriction of this judgement to the subjective
|
||
conditions of our reason, in order not to make use of it until the
|
||
manner of this belief should be defined more precisely. The fact is
|
||
that the impossibility referred to is merely subjective, that is,
|
||
our reason finds it impossible for it to render conceivable in the way
|
||
of a mere course of nature a connection so exactly proportioned and so
|
||
thoroughly adapted to an end, between two sets of events happening
|
||
according to such distinct laws; although, as with everything else
|
||
in nature that is adapted to an end, it cannot prove, that is, show by
|
||
sufficient objective reason, that it is not possible by universal laws
|
||
of nature.
|
||
Now, however, a deciding principle of a different kind comes into
|
||
play to turn the scale in this uncertainty of speculative reason.
|
||
The command to promote the summum bonum is established on an objective
|
||
basis (in practical reason); the possibility of the same in general is
|
||
likewise established on an objective basis (in theoretical reason,
|
||
which has nothing to say against it). But reason cannot decide
|
||
objectively in what way we are to conceive this possibility; whether
|
||
by universal laws of nature without a wise Author presiding over
|
||
nature, or only on supposition of such an Author. Now here there comes
|
||
in a subjective condition of reason, the only way theoretically
|
||
possible for it, of conceiving the exact harmony of the kingdom of
|
||
nature with the kingdom of morals, which is the condition of the
|
||
possibility of the summum bonum; and at the same time the only one
|
||
conducive to morality (which depends on an objective law of reason).
|
||
Now since the promotion of this summum bonum, and therefore the
|
||
supposition of its possibility, are objectively necessary (though only
|
||
as a result of practical reason), while at the same time the manner in
|
||
which we would conceive it rests with our own choice, and in this
|
||
choice a free interest of pure practical reason decides for the
|
||
assumption of a wise Author of the world; it is clear that the
|
||
principle that herein determines our judgement, though as a want it is
|
||
subjective, yet at the same time being the means of promoting what
|
||
is objectively (practically) necessary, is the foundation of a maxim
|
||
of belief in a moral point of view, that is, a faith of pure practical
|
||
reason. This, then, is not commanded, but being a voluntary
|
||
determination of our judgement, conducive to the moral (commanded)
|
||
purpose, and moreover harmonizing with the theoretical requirement
|
||
of reason, to assume that existence and to make it the foundation of
|
||
our further employment of reason, it has itself sprung from the
|
||
moral disposition of mind; it may therefore at times waver even in the
|
||
well-disposed, but can never be reduced to unbelief.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 95}
|
||
-
|
||
IX. Of the Wise Adaptation of Man's Cognitive Faculties
|
||
to his Practical Destination.
|
||
-
|
||
If human nature is destined to endeavour after the summum bonum,
|
||
we must suppose also that the measure of its cognitive faculties,
|
||
and particularly their relation to one another, is suitable to this
|
||
end. Now the Critique of Pure Speculative Reason proves that this is
|
||
incapable of solving satisfactorily the most weighty problems that are
|
||
proposed to it, although it does not ignore the natural and
|
||
important hints received from the same reason, nor the great steps
|
||
that it can make to approach to this great goal that is set before it,
|
||
which, however, it can never reach of itself, even with the help of
|
||
the greatest knowledge of nature. Nature then seems here to have
|
||
provided us only in a stepmotherly fashion with the faculty required
|
||
for our end.
|
||
{BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 100}
|
||
Suppose, now, that in this matter nature had conformed to our wish
|
||
and had given us that capacity of discernment or that enlightenment
|
||
which we would gladly possess, or which some imagine they actually
|
||
possess, what would in all probability be the consequence? Unless
|
||
our whole nature were at the same time changed, our inclinations,
|
||
which always have the first word, would first of all demand their
|
||
own satisfaction, and, joined with rational reflection, the greatest
|
||
possible and most lasting satisfaction, under the name of happiness;
|
||
the moral law would afterwards speak, in order to keep them within
|
||
their proper bounds, and even to subject them all to a higher end,
|
||
which has no regard to inclination. But instead of the conflict that
|
||
the moral disposition has now to carry on with the inclinations, in
|
||
which, though after some defeats, moral strength of mind may be
|
||
gradually acquired, God and eternity with their awful majesty would
|
||
stand unceasingly before our eyes (for what we can prove perfectly
|
||
is to us as certain as that of which we are assured by the sight of
|
||
our eyes). Transgression of the law, would, no doubt, be avoided; what
|
||
is commanded would be done; but the mental disposition, from which
|
||
actions ought to proceed, cannot be infused by any command, and in
|
||
this case the spur of action is ever active and external, so that
|
||
reason has no need to exert itself in order to gather strength to
|
||
resist the inclinations by a lively representation of the dignity of
|
||
the law: hence most of the actions that conformed to the law would
|
||
be done from fear, a few only from hope, and none at all from duty,
|
||
and the moral worth of actions, on which alone in the eyes of
|
||
supreme wisdom the worth of the person and even that of the world
|
||
depends, would cease to exist. As long as the nature of man remains
|
||
what it is, his conduct would thus be changed into mere mechanism,
|
||
in which, as in a puppet-show, everything would gesticulate well,
|
||
but there would be no life in the figures. Now, when it is quite
|
||
otherwise with us, when with all the effort of our reason we have only
|
||
a very obscure and doubtful view into the future, when the Governor of
|
||
the world allows us only to conjecture his existence and his
|
||
majesty, not to behold them or prove them clearly; and on the other
|
||
hand, the moral law within us, without promising or threatening
|
||
anything with certainty, demands of us disinterested respect; and only
|
||
when this respect has become active and dominant, does it allow us
|
||
by means of it a prospect into the world of the supersensible, and
|
||
then only with weak glances: all this being so, there is room for true
|
||
moral disposition, immediately devoted to the law, and a rational
|
||
creature can become worthy of sharing in the summum bonum that
|
||
corresponds to the worth of his person and not merely to his
|
||
actions. Thus what the study of nature and of man teaches us
|
||
sufficiently elsewhere may well be true here also; that the
|
||
unsearchable wisdom by which we exist is not less worthy of admiration
|
||
in what it has denied than in what it has granted.
|
||
|
||
PART_2|METHODOLOGY
|
||
SECOND PART.
|
||
-
|
||
Methodology of Pure Practical Reason.
|
||
-
|
||
By the methodology of pure practical reason we are not to understand
|
||
the mode of proceeding with pure practical principles (whether in
|
||
study or in exposition), with a view to a scientific knowledge of
|
||
them, which alone is what is properly called method elsewhere in
|
||
theoretical philosophy (for popular knowledge requires a manner,
|
||
science a method, i.e., a process according to principles of reason by
|
||
which alone the manifold of any branch of knowledge can become a
|
||
system). On the contrary, by this methodology is understood the mode
|
||
in which we can give the laws of pure practical reason access to the
|
||
human mind and influence on its maxims, that is, by which we can
|
||
make the objectively practical reason subjectively practical also.
|
||
Now it is clear enough that those determining principles of the will
|
||
which alone make maxims properly moral and give them a moral worth,
|
||
namely, the direct conception of the law and the objective necessity
|
||
of obeying it as our duty, must be regarded as the proper springs of
|
||
actions, since otherwise legality of actions might be produced, but
|
||
not morality of character. But it is not so clear; on the contrary, it
|
||
must at first sight seem to every one very improbable that even
|
||
subjectively that exhibition of pure virtue can have more power over
|
||
the human mind, and supply a far stronger spring even for effecting
|
||
that legality of actions, and can produce more powerful resolutions to
|
||
prefer the law, from pure respect for it, to every other
|
||
consideration, than all the deceptive allurements of pleasure or of
|
||
all that may be reckoned as happiness, or even than all threatenings
|
||
of pain and misfortune. Nevertheless, this is actually the case, and
|
||
if human nature were not so constituted, no mode of presenting the law
|
||
by roundabout ways and indirect recommendations would ever produce
|
||
morality of character. All would be simple hypocrisy; the law would be
|
||
hated, or at least despised, while it was followed for the sake of
|
||
one's own advantage. The letter of the law (legality) would be found
|
||
in our actions, but not the spirit of it in our minds (morality);
|
||
and as with all our efforts we could not quite free ourselves from
|
||
reason in our judgement, we must inevitably appear in our own eyes
|
||
worthless, depraved men, even though we should seek to compensate
|
||
ourselves for this mortification before the inner tribunal, by
|
||
enjoying the pleasure that a supposed natural or divine law might be
|
||
imagined to have connected with it a sort of police machinery,
|
||
regulating its operations by what was done without troubling itself
|
||
about the motives for doing it.
|
||
It cannot indeed be denied that in order to bring an uncultivated or
|
||
degraded mind into the track of moral goodness some preparatory
|
||
guidance is necessary, to attract it by a view of its own advantage,
|
||
or to alarm it by fear of loss; but as soon as this mechanical work,
|
||
these leading-strings have produced some effect, then we must bring
|
||
before the mind the pure moral motive, which, not only because it is
|
||
the only one that can be the foundation of a character (a
|
||
practically consistent habit of mind with unchangeable maxims), but
|
||
also because it teaches a man to feel his own dignity, gives the
|
||
mind a power unexpected even by himself, to tear himself from all
|
||
sensible attachments so far as they would fain have the rule, and to
|
||
find a rich compensation for the sacrifice he offers, in the
|
||
independence of his rational nature and the greatness of soul to which
|
||
he sees that he is destined. We will therefore show, by such
|
||
observations as every one can make, that this property of our minds,
|
||
this receptivity for a pure moral interest, and consequently the
|
||
moving force of the pure conception of virtue, when it is properly
|
||
applied to the human heart, is the most powerful spring and, when a
|
||
continued and punctual observance of moral maxims is in question,
|
||
the only spring of good conduct. It must, however, be remembered
|
||
that if these observations only prove the reality of such a feeling,
|
||
but do not show any moral improvement brought about by it, this is
|
||
no argument against the only method that exists of making the
|
||
objectively practical laws of pure reason subjectively practical,
|
||
through the mere force of the conception of duty; nor does it prove
|
||
that this method is a vain delusion. For as it has never yet come into
|
||
vogue, experience can say nothing of its results; one can only ask for
|
||
proofs of the receptivity for such springs, and these I will now
|
||
briefly present, and then sketch the method of founding and
|
||
cultivating genuine moral dispositions.
|
||
{PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 5}
|
||
When we attend to the course of conversation in mixed companies,
|
||
consisting not merely of learned persons and subtle reasoners, but
|
||
also of men of business or of women, we observe that, besides
|
||
story-telling and jesting, another kind of entertainment finds a place
|
||
in them, namely, argument; for stories, if they are to have novelty
|
||
and interest, are soon exhausted, and jesting is likely to become
|
||
insipid. Now of all argument there is none in which persons are more
|
||
ready to join who find any other subtle discussion tedious, none
|
||
that brings more liveliness into the company, than that which concerns
|
||
the moral worth of this or that action by which the character of
|
||
some person is to be made out. Persons, to whom in other cases
|
||
anything subtle and speculative in theoretical questions is dry and
|
||
irksome, presently join in when the question is to make out the
|
||
moral import of a good or bad action that has been related, and they
|
||
display an exactness, a refinement, a subtlety, in excogitating
|
||
everything that can lessen the purity of purpose, and consequently the
|
||
degree of virtue in it, which we do not expect from them in any
|
||
other kind of speculation. In these criticisms, persons who are
|
||
passing judgement on others often reveal their own character: some, in
|
||
exercising their judicial office, especially upon the dead, seem
|
||
inclined chiefly to defend the goodness that is related of this or
|
||
that deed against all injurious charges of insincerity, and ultimately
|
||
to defend the whole moral worth of the person against the reproach
|
||
of dissimulation and secret wickedness; others, on the contrary,
|
||
turn their thoughts more upon attacking this worth by accusation and
|
||
fault finding. We cannot always, however, attribute to these latter
|
||
the intention of arguing away virtue altogether out of all human
|
||
examples in order to make it an empty name; often, on the contrary, it
|
||
is only well-meant strictness in determining the true moral import
|
||
of actions according to an uncompromising law. Comparison with such
|
||
a law, instead of with examples, lowers self-conceit in moral
|
||
matters very much, and not merely teaches humility, but makes every
|
||
one feel it when he examines himself closely. Nevertheless, we can for
|
||
the most part observe, in those who defend the purity of purpose in
|
||
giving examples that where there is the presumption of uprightness
|
||
they are anxious to remove even the least spot, lest, if all
|
||
examples had their truthfulness disputed, and if the purity of all
|
||
human virtue were denied, it might in the end be regarded as a mere
|
||
phantom, and so all effort to attain it be made light of as vain
|
||
affectation and delusive conceit.
|
||
I do not know why the educators of youth have not long since made
|
||
use of this propensity of reason to enter with pleasure upon the
|
||
most subtle examination of the practical questions that are thrown up;
|
||
and why they have not, after first laying the foundation of a purely
|
||
moral catechism, searched through the biographies of ancient and
|
||
modern times with the view of having at hand instances of the duties
|
||
laid down, in which, especially by comparison of similar actions under
|
||
different circumstances, they might exercise the critical judgement of
|
||
their scholars in remarking their greater or less moral
|
||
significance. This is a thing in which they would find that even early
|
||
youth, which is still unripe for speculation of other kinds, would
|
||
soon Become very acute and not a little interested, because it feels
|
||
the progress of its faculty of judgement; and, what is most important,
|
||
they could hope with confidence that the frequent practice of
|
||
knowing and approving good conduct in all its purity, and on the other
|
||
hand of remarking with regret or contempt the least deviation from it,
|
||
although it may be pursued only as a sport in which children may
|
||
compete with one another, yet will leave a lasting impression of
|
||
esteem on the one hand and disgust on the other; and so, by the mere
|
||
habit of looking on such actions as deserving approval or blame, a
|
||
good foundation would be laid for uprightness in the future course
|
||
of life. Only I wish they would spare them the example of so-called
|
||
noble (supermeritorious) actions, in which our sentimental books so
|
||
much abound, and would refer all to duty merely, and to the worth that
|
||
a man can and must give himself in his own eyes by the consciousness
|
||
of not having transgressed it, since whatever runs up into empty
|
||
wishes and longings after inaccessible perfection produces mere heroes
|
||
of romance, who, while they pique themselves on their feeling for
|
||
transcendent greatness, release themselves in return from the
|
||
observance of common and every-day obligations, which then seem to
|
||
them petty and insignificant.*
|
||
-
|
||
*It is quite proper to extol actions that display a great,
|
||
unselfish, sympathizing mind or humanity. But, in this case, we must
|
||
fix attention not so much on the elevation of soul, which is very
|
||
fleeting and transitory, as on the subjection of the heart to duty,
|
||
from which a more enduring impression may be expected, because this
|
||
implies principle (whereas the former only implies ebullitions). One
|
||
need only reflect a little and he will always find a debt that he
|
||
has by some means incurred towards the human race (even if it were
|
||
only this, by the inequality of men in the civil constitution,
|
||
enjoys advantages on account of which others must be the more in
|
||
want), which will prevent the thought of duty from being repressed
|
||
by the self-complacent imagination of merit.
|
||
-
|
||
{PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 10}
|
||
But if it is asked: "What, then, is really pure morality, by which
|
||
as a touchstone we must test the moral significance of every
|
||
action," then I must admit that it is only philosophers that can
|
||
make the decision of this question doubtful, for to common sense it
|
||
has been decided long ago, not indeed by abstract general formulae,
|
||
but by habitual use, like the distinction between the right and left
|
||
hand. We will then point out the criterion of pure virtue in an
|
||
example first, and, imagining that it is set before a boy, of say
|
||
ten years old, for his judgement, we will see whether he would
|
||
necessarily judge so of himself without being guided by his teacher.
|
||
Tell him the history of an honest man whom men want to persuade to
|
||
join the calumniators of an innocent and powerless person (say Anne
|
||
Boleyn, accused by Henry VIII of England). He is offered advantages,
|
||
great gifts, or high rank; he rejects them. This will excite mere
|
||
approbation and applause in the mind of the hearer. Now begins the
|
||
threatening of loss. Amongst these traducers are his best friends, who
|
||
now renounce his friendship; near kinsfolk, who threaten to disinherit
|
||
him (he being without fortune); powerful persons, who can persecute
|
||
and harass him in all places and circumstances; a prince, who
|
||
threatens him with loss of freedom, yea, loss of life. Then to fill
|
||
the measure of suffering, and that he may feel the pain that only
|
||
the morally good heart can feel very deeply, let us conceive his
|
||
family threatened with extreme distress and want, entreating him to
|
||
yield; conceive himself, though upright, yet with feelings not hard or
|
||
insensible either to compassion or to his own distress; conceive
|
||
him, I say, at the moment when he wishes that he had never lived to
|
||
see the day that exposed him to such unutterable anguish, yet
|
||
remaining true to his uprightness of purpose, without wavering or even
|
||
doubting; then will my youthful hearer be raised gradually from mere
|
||
approval to admiration, from that to amazement, and finally to the
|
||
greatest veneration, and a lively wish that be himself could be such a
|
||
man (though certainly not in such circumstances). Yet virtue is here
|
||
worth so much only because it costs so much, not because it brings any
|
||
profit. All the admiration, and even the endeavour to resemble this
|
||
character, rest wholly on the purity of the moral principle, which can
|
||
only be strikingly shown by removing from the springs of action
|
||
everything that men may regard as part of happiness. Morality, then,
|
||
must have the more power over the human heart the more purely it is
|
||
exhibited. Whence it follows that, if the law of morality and the
|
||
image of holiness and virtue are to exercise any influence at all on
|
||
our souls, they can do so only so far as they are laid to heart in
|
||
their purity as motives, unmixed with any view to prosperity, for it
|
||
is in suffering that they display themselves most nobly. Now that
|
||
whose removal strengthens the effect of a moving force must have
|
||
been a hindrance, consequently every admixture of motives taken from
|
||
our own happiness is a hindrance to the influence of the moral law
|
||
on the heart. I affirm further that even in that admired action, if
|
||
the motive from which it was done was a high regard for duty, then
|
||
it is just this respect for the law that has the greatest influence on
|
||
the mind of the spectator, not any pretension to a supposed inward
|
||
greatness of mind or noble meritorious sentiments; consequently
|
||
duty, not merit, must have not only the most definite, but, when it is
|
||
represented in the true light of its inviolability, the most
|
||
penetrating, influence on the mind.
|
||
It is more necessary than ever to direct attention to this method in
|
||
our times, when men hope to produce more effect on the mind with soft,
|
||
tender feelings, or high-flown, puffing-up pretensions, which rather
|
||
wither the heart than strengthen it, than by a plain and earnest
|
||
representation of duty, which is more suited to human imperfection and
|
||
to progress in goodness. To set before children, as a pattern, actions
|
||
that are called noble, magnanimous, meritorious, with the notion of
|
||
captivating them by infusing enthusiasm for such actions, is to defeat
|
||
our end. For as they are still so backward in the observance of the
|
||
commonest duty, and even in the correct estimation of it, this means
|
||
simply to make them fantastical romancers betimes. But, even with
|
||
the instructed and experienced part of mankind, this supposed spring
|
||
has, if not an injurious, at least no genuine, moral effect on the
|
||
heart, which, however, is what it was desired to produce.
|
||
All feelings, especially those that are to produce unwonted
|
||
exertions, must accomplish their effect at the moment they are at
|
||
their height and before the calm down; otherwise they effect
|
||
nothing; for as there was nothing to strengthen the heart, but only to
|
||
excite it, it naturally returns to its normal moderate tone and, thus,
|
||
falls back into its previous languor. Principles must be built on
|
||
conceptions; on any other basis there can only be paroxysms, which can
|
||
give the person no moral worth, nay, not even confidence in himself,
|
||
without which the highest good in man, consciousness of the morality
|
||
of his mind and character, cannot exist. Now if these conceptions
|
||
are to become subjectively practical, we must not rest satisfied
|
||
with admiring the objective law of morality, and esteeming it highly
|
||
in reference to humanity, but we must consider the conception of it in
|
||
relation to man as an individual, and then this law appears in a
|
||
form indeed that is highly deserving of respect, but not so pleasant
|
||
as if it belonged to the element to which he is naturally
|
||
accustomed; but on the contrary as often compelling him to quit this
|
||
element, not without self-denial, and to betake himself to a higher,
|
||
in which he can only maintain himself with trouble and with
|
||
unceasing apprehension of a relapse. In a word, the moral law
|
||
demands obedience, from duty not from predilection, which cannot and
|
||
ought not to be presupposed at all.
|
||
Let us now see, in an example, whether the conception of an
|
||
action, as a noble and magnanimous one, has more subjective moving
|
||
power than if the action is conceived merely as duty in relation to
|
||
the solemn law of morality. The action by which a man endeavours at
|
||
the greatest peril of life to rescue people from shipwreck, at last
|
||
losing his life in the attempt, is reckoned on one side as duty, but
|
||
on the other and for the most part as a meritorious action, but our
|
||
esteem for it is much weakened by the notion of duty to himself
|
||
which seems in this case to be somewhat infringed. More decisive is
|
||
the magnanimous sacrifice of life for the safety of one's country; and
|
||
yet there still remains some scruple whether it is a perfect duty to
|
||
devote one's self to this purpose spontaneously and unbidden, and
|
||
the action has not in itself the full force of a pattern and impulse
|
||
to imitation. But if an indispensable duty be in question, the
|
||
transgression of which violates the moral law itself, and without
|
||
regard to the welfare of mankind, and as it were tramples on its
|
||
holiness (such as are usually called duties to God, because in Him
|
||
we conceive the ideal of holiness in substance), then we give our most
|
||
perfect esteem to the pursuit of it at the sacrifice of all that can
|
||
have any value for the dearest inclinations, and we find our soul
|
||
strengthened and elevated by such an example, when we convince
|
||
ourselves by contemplation of it that human nature is capable of so
|
||
great an elevation above every motive that nature can oppose to it.
|
||
Juvenal describes such an example in a climax which makes the reader
|
||
feel vividly the force of the spring that is contained in the pure law
|
||
of duty, as duty:
|
||
-
|
||
{PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 15}
|
||
Esto bonus miles, tutor bonus, arbiter idem
|
||
Integer; ambiguae si quando citabere testis
|
||
Incertaeque rei, Phalaris licet imperet ut sis
|
||
Falsus, et admoto dictet periuria tauro,
|
||
Summum crede nefas animam praeferre pudori,
|
||
{PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 20}
|
||
Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas.*
|
||
-
|
||
*[Juvenal, Satirae, "Be you a good soldier, a faithful tutor, an
|
||
uncorrupted umpire also; if you are summoned as a witness in a
|
||
doubtful and uncertain thing, though Phalaris should command that
|
||
you should be false, and should dictate perjuries with the bull
|
||
brought to you, believe it the highest impiety to prefer life to
|
||
reputation, and for the sake of life, to lose the causes of living."]
|
||
-
|
||
When we can bring any flattering thought of merit into our action,
|
||
then the motive is already somewhat alloyed with self-love and has
|
||
therefore some assistance from the side of the sensibility. But to
|
||
postpone everything to the holiness of duty alone, and to be conscious
|
||
that we can because our own reason recognises this as its command
|
||
and says that we ought to do it, this is, as it were, to raise
|
||
ourselves altogether above the world of sense, and there is
|
||
inseparably involved in the same a consciousness of the law, as a
|
||
spring of a faculty that controls the sensibility; and although this
|
||
is not always attended with effect, yet frequent engagement with
|
||
this spring, and the at first minor attempts at using it, give hope
|
||
that this effect may be wrought, and that by degrees the greatest, and
|
||
that a purely moral interest in it may be produced in us.
|
||
{PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 25}
|
||
The method then takes the following course. At first we are only
|
||
concerned to make the judging of actions by moral laws a natural
|
||
employment accompanying all our own free actions, as well as the
|
||
observation of those of others, and to make it as it were a habit, and
|
||
to sharpen this judgement, asking first whether the action conforms
|
||
objectively to the moral law, and to what law; and we distinguish
|
||
the law that merely furnishes a principle of obligation from that
|
||
which is really obligatory (leges obligandi a legibus obligantibus);
|
||
as, for instance, the law of what men's wants require from me, as
|
||
contrasted with that which their rights demand, the latter of which
|
||
prescribes essential, the former only non-essential duties; and thus
|
||
we teach how to distinguish different kinds of duties which meet in
|
||
the same action. The other point to which attention must be directed
|
||
is the question whether the action was also (subjectively) done for
|
||
the sake of the moral law, so that it not only is morally correct as a
|
||
deed, but also, by the maxim from which it is done, has moral worth as
|
||
a disposition. Now there is no doubt that this practice, and the
|
||
resulting culture of our reason in judging merely of the practical,
|
||
must gradually produce a certain interest even in the law of reason,
|
||
and consequently in morally good actions. For we ultimately take a
|
||
liking for a thing, the contemplation of which makes us feel that
|
||
the use of our cognitive faculties is extended; and this extension
|
||
is especially furthered by that in which we find moral correctness,
|
||
since it is only in such an order of things that reason, with its
|
||
faculty of determining a priori on principle what ought to be done,
|
||
can find satisfaction. An observer of nature takes liking at last to
|
||
objects that at first offended his senses, when he discovers in them
|
||
the great adaptation of their organization to design, so that his
|
||
reason finds food in its contemplation. So Leibnitz spared an insect
|
||
that he had carefully examined with the microscope, and replaced it on
|
||
its leaf, because he had found himself instructed by the view of it
|
||
and had, as it were, received a benefit from it.
|
||
But this employment of the faculty of judgement, which makes us feel
|
||
our own cognitive powers, is not yet the interest in actions and in
|
||
their morality itself. It merely causes us to take pleasure in
|
||
engaging in such criticism, and it gives to virtue or the
|
||
disposition that conforms to moral laws a form of beauty, which is
|
||
admired, but not on that account sought after (laudatur et alget);
|
||
as everything the contemplation of which produces a consciousness of
|
||
the harmony of our powers of conception, and in which we feel the
|
||
whole of our faculty of knowledge (understanding and imagination)
|
||
strengthened, produces a satisfaction, which may also be
|
||
communicated to others, while nevertheless the existence of the object
|
||
remains indifferent to us, being only regarded as the occasion of
|
||
our becoming aware of the capacities in us which are elevated above
|
||
mere animal nature. Now, however, the second exercise comes in, the
|
||
living exhibition of morality of character by examples, in which
|
||
attention is directed to purity of will, first only as a negative
|
||
perfection, in so far as in an action done from duty no motives of
|
||
inclination have any influence in determining it. By this the
|
||
pupil's attention is fixed upon the consciousness of his freedom,
|
||
and although this renunciation at first excites a feeling of pain,
|
||
nevertheless, by its withdrawing the pupil from the constraint of even
|
||
real wants, there is proclaimed to him at the same time a
|
||
deliverance from the manifold dissatisfaction in which all these wants
|
||
entangle him, and the mind is made capable of receiving the
|
||
sensation of satisfaction from other sources. The heart is freed and
|
||
lightened of a burden that always secretly presses on it, when
|
||
instances of pure moral resolutions reveal to the man an inner faculty
|
||
of which otherwise he has no right knowledge, the inward freedom to
|
||
release himself from the boisterous importunity of inclinations, to
|
||
such a degree that none of them, not even the dearest, shall have
|
||
any influence on a resolution, for which we are now to employ our
|
||
reason. Suppose a case where I alone know that the wrong is on my
|
||
side, and although a free confession of it and the offer of
|
||
satisfaction are so strongly opposed by vanity, selfishness, and
|
||
even an otherwise not illegitimate antipathy to the man whose rights
|
||
are impaired by me, I am nevertheless able to discard all these
|
||
considerations; in this there is implied a consciousness of
|
||
independence on inclinations and circumstances, and of the possibility
|
||
of being sufficient for myself, which is salutary to me in general for
|
||
other purposes also. And now the law of duty, in consequence of the
|
||
positive worth which obedience to it makes us feel, finds easier
|
||
access through the respect for ourselves in the consciousness of our
|
||
freedom. When this is well established, when a man dreads nothing more
|
||
than to find himself, on self-examination, worthless and
|
||
contemptible in his own eyes, then every good moral disposition can be
|
||
grafted on it, because this is the best, nay, the only guard that
|
||
can keep off from the mind the pressure of ignoble and corrupting
|
||
motives.
|
||
I have only intended to point out the most general maxims of the
|
||
methodology of moral cultivation and exercise. As the manifold variety
|
||
of duties requires special rules for each kind, and this would be a
|
||
prolix affair, I shall be readily excused if in a work like this,
|
||
which is only preliminary, I content myself with these outlines.
|
||
|
||
PART_2|CONCLUSION
|
||
CONCLUSION.
|
||
-
|
||
Two things fill the mind with ever new and increasing admiration and
|
||
awe, the oftener and the more steadily we reflect on them: the
|
||
starry heavens above and the moral law within. I have not to search
|
||
for them and conjecture them as though they were veiled in darkness or
|
||
were in the transcendent region beyond my horizon; I see them before
|
||
me and connect them directly with the consciousness of my existence.
|
||
The former begins from the place I occupy in the external world of
|
||
sense, and enlarges my connection therein to an unbounded extent
|
||
with worlds upon worlds and systems of systems, and moreover into
|
||
limitless times of their periodic motion, its beginning and
|
||
continuance. The second begins from my invisible self, my personality,
|
||
and exhibits me in a world which has true infinity, but which is
|
||
traceable only by the understanding, and with which I discern that I
|
||
am not in a merely contingent but in a universal and necessary
|
||
connection, as I am also thereby with all those visible worlds. The
|
||
former view of a countless multitude of worlds annihilates as it
|
||
were my importance as an animal creature, which after it has been
|
||
for a short time provided with vital power, one knows not how, must
|
||
again give back the matter of which it was formed to the planet it
|
||
inhabits (a mere speck in the universe). The second, on the
|
||
contrary, infinitely elevates my worth as an intelligence by my
|
||
personality, in which the moral law reveals to me a life independent
|
||
of animality and even of the whole sensible world, at least so far
|
||
as may be inferred from the destination assigned to my existence by
|
||
this law, a destination not restricted to conditions and limits of
|
||
this life, but reaching into the infinite.
|
||
But though admiration and respect may excite to inquiry, they cannot
|
||
supply the want of it. What, then, is to be done in order to enter
|
||
on this in a useful manner and one adapted to the loftiness of the
|
||
subject? Examples may serve in this as a warning and also for
|
||
imitation. The contemplation of the world began from the noblest
|
||
spectacle that the human senses present to us, and that our
|
||
understanding can bear to follow in their vast reach; and it ended- in
|
||
astrology. Morality began with the noblest attribute of human
|
||
nature, the development and cultivation of which give a prospect of
|
||
infinite utility; and ended- in fanaticism or superstition. So it is
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with all crude attempts where the principal part of the business
|
||
depends on the use of reason, a use which does not come of itself,
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||
like the use of the feet, by frequent exercise, especially when
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||
attributes are in question which cannot be directly exhibited in
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||
common experience. But after the maxim had come into vogue, though
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||
late, to examine carefully beforehand all the steps that reason
|
||
purposes to take, and not to let it proceed otherwise than in the
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||
track of a previously well considered method, then the study of the
|
||
structure of the universe took quite a different direction, and
|
||
thereby attained an incomparably happier result. The fall of a
|
||
stone, the motion of a sling, resolved into their elements and the
|
||
forces that are manifested in them, and treated mathematically,
|
||
produced at last that clear and henceforward unchangeable insight into
|
||
the system of the world which, as observation is continued, may hope
|
||
always to extend itself, but need never fear to be compelled to
|
||
retreat.
|
||
This example may suggest to us to enter on the same path in treating
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||
of the moral capacities of our nature, and may give us hope of a
|
||
like good result. We have at hand the instances of the moral judgement
|
||
of reason. By analysing these into their elementary conceptions, and
|
||
in default of mathematics adopting a process similar to that of
|
||
chemistry, the separation of the empirical from the rational
|
||
elements that may be found in them, by repeated experiments on
|
||
common sense, we may exhibit both pure, and learn with certainty
|
||
what each part can accomplish of itself, so as to prevent on the one
|
||
hand the errors of a still crude untrained judgement, and on the other
|
||
hand (what is far more necessary) the extravagances of genius, by
|
||
which, as by the adepts of the philosopher's stone, without any
|
||
methodical study or knowledge of nature, visionary treasures are
|
||
promised and the true are thrown away. In one word, science
|
||
(critically undertaken and methodically directed) is the narrow gate
|
||
that leads to the true doctrine of practical wisdom, if we
|
||
understand by this not merely what one ought to do, but what ought
|
||
to serve teachers as a guide to construct well and clearly the road to
|
||
wisdom which everyone should travel, and to secure others from going
|
||
astray. Philosophy must always continue to be the guardian of this
|
||
science; and although the public does not take any interest in its
|
||
subtle investigations, it must take an interest in the resulting
|
||
doctrines, which such an examination first puts in a clear light.
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-
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-
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-THE END-
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Electronically Enhanced Text (C) Copyright 1991, 1992, World Library, Inc.
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