Cambridge Editions present the works and correspondence of great thinkers and writers. Introductions, explanatory notes and textual apparatus accompany a reliable version of the text, aiding scholars and students alike.
Cambridge Editions present the works and correspondence of great thinkers and writers. Introductions, explanatory notes and textual apparatus accompany a reliable version of the text, aiding scholars and students alike.
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The deduction of aesthetic judgments concerning the objects of nature may not be directed towards that which we call sublime among them, but only to the beautiful.
The claim of an aesthetic judgment to universal validity for every subject, as a judgment that must be based on some principle a priori, needs a deduction (i.e., a legitimation of its presumption), which must be added to its exposition, if, that is, it concerns a satisfaction or dissatisfaction in the form of the object. The judgments of taste concerning the beautiful in nature are of this sort. For in this case the purposiveness has its ground in the object and its shape, even if it does not indicate the relation of the object to others in accordance with concepts (for judgments of cognition), but rather generally concerns merely the apprehension of this form insofar as it shows itself in the mind to be suitable to the faculty both of concepts and of the presentation of them (which is one and the same as that of apprehension). Hence one can also raise many questions in regard to the beautiful in nature, concerning the cause of this purposiveness of its forms: e.g., how is one to explain why nature has spread beauty so extravagantly everywhere, even at the bottom of the ocean, where it is only seldom that the human eye (for which alone, after all, it is purposive) penetrates? and so on.
The determining power of judgment by itself has no principles that ground concepts of objects. It is no autonomy, for it merely subsumes under given laws or concepts as principles. For that very reason it is not exposed to any danger from its own antinomy and from a conflict of its principles. Thus the transcendental power of judgment, which contains the conditions for subsuming under categories, was not by itself nomothetic, but merely named the conditions of sensible intuition under which a given concept, as a law of the understanding, could be given reality (application) – about which it could never fall into disunity with itself (at least in the matter of principles).
But the reflecting power of judgment is supposed to subsume under a law that is not yet given and which is in fact only a principle for reflection on objects for which we are objectively entirely lacking a law or a concept of the object that would be adequate as a principle for the cases that come before us. Now since no use of the cognitive faculties can be permitted without principles, in such cases the reflecting power of judgment must serve as a principle itself, which, since it is not objective, and cannot be presupposed as a sufficient ground for cognition of the intention of the object, can serve as a merely subjective principle for the purposive use of the cognitive faculties, namely for reflecting on one kind of objects.
Transition from the faculty for judging the beautiful to that for judging the sublime.
The beautiful coincides with the sublime in that both please for themselves. And further in that both presuppose neither a judgment of sense nor a logically determining judgment, but a judgment of reflection: consequently the satisfaction does not depend on a sensation, like that in the agreeable, nor on a determinate concept, like the satisfaction in the good; but it is nevertheless still related to concepts, although it is indeterminate which, hence the satisfaction is connected to the mere presentation or to the faculty for that, through which the faculty of presentation or the imagination is considered, in the case of a given intuition, to be in accord with the faculty of concepts of the understanding or of reason, as promoting the latter. Hence both sorts of judgments are also singular, and yet judgments that profess to be universally valid in regard to every subject, although they lay claim merely to the feeling of pleasure and not to any cognition of the object.
But notable differences between the two also strike the eye. The beautiful in nature concerns the form of the object, which consists in limitation; the sublime, by contrast, is to be found in a formless object insofar as limitlessness is represented in it, or at its instance, and yet it is also thought as a totality: so that the beautiful seems to be taken as the presentation of an indeterminate concept of the understanding, but the sublime as that of a similar concept of reason.
On the objective purposiveness which is merely formal, in distinction to that which is material.
All geometrical figures that are drawn in accordance with a principle display a manifold and often admired objective purposiveness, namely that of serviceability for the solution of many problems in accordance with a single principle, and indeed of each of them in infinitely many different ways. The purposiveness here is evidently objective and intellectual, not, however, merely subjective and aesthetic. For it expresses the suitability of the figure for the generation of many shapes aimed at purposes, and is cognized through reason. But the purposiveness still does not make the concept of the object itself possible, i.e., it is not regarded as possible merely with respect to this use.
In such a simple figure as the circle there lies the basis for the solution of a host of problems, for each of which by itself much preparation would be required, and which as it were arises from this figure itself as one of its many splendid properties. If, e.g., the problem is to construct a triangle from a given baseline and the angle opposite to it, then it is indeterminate, i.e., it can be solved in infinitely many ways. But the circle comprehends them all, as the geometrical locus for all triangles that satisfy this condition. Or two lines are supposed to intersect in such a way that the rectangle constructed from the two parts of the one is equal to the rectangle from the two parts of the other: the solution of this problem looks as if it will be very difficult.
The faculty of cognition from a priori principles can be called pure reason, and the investigation of its possibility and boundaries in general can be called the critique of pure reason; although by this faculty only reason in its theoretical use is understood, as was also the case in the first work under this title, without bringing into the investigation its capacity as practical reason, in accordance with its special principles. The former pertains solely to our faculty for cognizing things a priori, and thus concerns itself only with the faculty of cognition, excluding the feeling of pleasure and displeasure and the faculty of desire; and among the faculties of cognition it concerns itself only with the understanding in accordance with its a priori principles, excluding the power of judgment and reason (as faculties likewise belonging to theoretical cognition), because in the course of that work it turns out that no faculty of cognition except for the understanding can yield constitutive principles of cognition a priori.
First Moment of the judgment of taste, concerning its quality.
The judgment of taste is aesthetic.
In order to decide whether or not something is beautiful, we do not relate the representation by means of understanding to the object for cognition, but rather relate it by means of the imagination (perhaps combined with the understanding) to the subject and its feeling of pleasure or displeasure. The judgment of taste is therefore not a cognitive judgment, hence not a logical one, but is rather aesthetic, by which is understood one whose determining ground cannot be other than subjective. Any relation of representations, however, even that of sensations, can be objective (in which case it signifies what is real in an empirical representation); but not the relation to the feeling of pleasure and displeasure, by means of which nothing at all in the object is designated, but in which the subject feels itself as it is affected by the representation.
To grasp a regular, purposive structure with one's faculty of cognition (whether the manner of representation be distinct or confused) is something entirely different from being conscious of this representation with the sensation of satisfaction. Here the representation is related entirely to the subject, indeed to its feeling of life, under the name of the feeling of pleasure or displeasure, which grounds an entirely special faculty for discriminating and judging a that contrib-utes nothing to cognition but only holds the given representation in the subject up to the entire faculty of representation, of which the mind becomes conscious in the feeling of its state.
Within a few years of the publication of his Critique of Pure Reason in 1781, Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) was recognized by his contemporaries as one of the seminal philosophers of modern times – indeed as one of the great philosophers of all time. This renown soon spread beyond German-speaking lands, and translations of Kant's work into English were published even before 1800. Since then, interpretations of Kant's views have come and gone and loyalty to his positions has waxed and waned, but his importance has not diminished. Generations of scholars have devoted their efforts to producing reliable translations of Kant into English as well as into other languages.
There are four main reasons for the present edition of Kant's writings:
1. Completeness. Although most of the works published in Kant's lifetime have been translated before, the most important ones more than once, only fragments of Kant's many important unpublished works have ever been translated. These include the Opus postumum, Kant's unfinished magnum opus on the transition from philosophy to physics; transcriptions of his classroom lectures; his correspondence; and his marginalia and other notes. One aim of this edition is to make a comprehensive sampling of these materials available in English for the first time.
2. Availability. Many English translations of Kant's works, especially those that have not individually played a large role in the subsequent development of philosophy, have long been inaccessible or out of print. Many of them, however, are crucial for the understanding of Kant's philosophical development, and the absence of some from English-language bibliographies may be responsible for erroneous or blinkered traditional interpretations of his doctrines by English-speaking philosophers.
The division of a critique into a doctrine of elements and a doctrine of method that precedes the science cannot be applied to the critique of taste, because there cannot be any science of the beautiful and the judgment of taste is not determinable by principles. For as far as the scientific element in any art is concerned, which concerns truth in the presentation of its object, this is to be sure the indispensable condition (conditio sine qua non) of beautiful art, but not the art itself. For beautiful art there is thus only a manner (modus), not a way of teaching it (methodus). The master must demonstrate what the student is to do and how he should accomplish it; and the universal rules under which he ultimately brings his procedure can serve rather to bring its principal elements to mind as occasion requires than to prescribe them to him. Nevertheless, in so doing there must be regard for a certain ideal that art must have before its eyes, even though in practice it is never fully attained.
The unexpectedly prompt result of your kind efforts on my behalf have filled me with both consternation and gratitude. In thinking about your kind proposal, which would involve a change at your university which His Highness, at first thought might take place sometime in the future, I found myself moved not to reject too hastily the opportunity to gain a small but secure amount of prosperity; but I am also put into a state of perplexity by this immediate and kind offer of an opportunity which I coveted just a little while ago. My resolution, I beg you to forgive me, has in the meantime vacillated.
Renewed and much stronger assurances, the growing likelihood of a possibly imminent vacancy here, attachment to my native city and a rather extended circle of acquaintances and friends, above all however my weak physical constitution – these suddenly present themselves as such strong counter-arguments, that my peace of mind seems possible to me only where I have heretofore always found it, even if only in burdensome circumstances. And since it appears that a definite answer is required right away, I make it now with most earnest apologies for the trouble that I may have occasioned: I hereby decline the honor and the appointment intended for me.
Herr Nicolovius who has the honor of delivering this letter to you, is a former auditor of mine and a very fine young man. He would like to make the acquaintance of some of the people in your circle of friends during his brief stay in Eutin. Getting to know such people is often impossible in large cities, yet so good for one's heart and mind. His modest demeanor ensures that his request will cause you no trouble.
The penetrating observations you made in your letter will give me much food for thought. For the present, since I have not found the time to give sustained thought to your suggestions, I must beg you to be contented with my still unripe judgments.
First, concerning the analogy between colors and tones, you certainly bring into focus the issue of their relation to judgments of taste (which aim to be more than mere sensory judgments about what pleases or displeases). Your graduated scale of vowel sounds, the only sounds, you maintain, that can produce a distinct tone by themselves, seems to me to be unnecessary here. For no one can think music that he is not able, however clumsily, to sing – and this at the same time shows clearly the difference between colors and tones, since the former do not presuppose any such productive power of the imagination.
What do you think of my negligence in corresponding? What does your mentor, Herr Mendelssohn and what does Professor Lambert think of it? These brave people must certainly imagine me to be a very rude person for reciprocating so badly the trouble they have taken in their letters. I could hardly blame them if they decided never again to allow themselves to be coaxed into troubling to answer a letter from me. But if only the inner difficulty one personally feels could be as perspicuous to other eyes, I hope that they would sooner take anything in the world to be the cause of my silence, rather than indifference or lack of respect. I beg you therefore to forestall or disabuse these worthy men of any such suspicion; for even now I feel the same hindrance that kept me from answering them for so long. My delay however really has two causes, not counting the bad habit of thinking that tomorrow is always a more convenient day to post a letter than today. The sort of letters with which these two scholars have honored me always lead me to a long series of investigations. You know very well that I am inclined not only to try to refute intelligent criticisms but that I always weave them together with my judgments and give them the right to overthrow all my previously cherished opinions.
Many thanks to Herr Nicolovius for the 16 Göttingen sausages, which arrived yesterday and therefore must have been shipped immediately. My household will be amply supplied for a whole year with these wares.
I. Kant
Dearest old friend,
Your gift, the two-volume Refutation of Herder's Metacritique (it does equal honor to your heart and your head), revives my memory of those pleasant days we used to enjoy together, days enlivened by what is true and good and imperishable to both of us. Now, in my 77th year, plagued by physical weaknesses (which do not however point to an imminent farewell) that make my final project more difficult but not, I hope, null and void, these memories are no small tonic for me, in my condition – your gift is thus doubly pleasing.
Your concern lest the carrots you sent last autumn might have been damaged by the long and early frost that took place then has turned out to be unwarranted. For I consumed the last of them only the day before yesterday at Sunday dinner, as usual with two friends, and the carrots tasted fine.
Be happy, and continue your affection for your eternal friend. Let me hear something now and then of your situation and literary happenings.
With greatest devotion and friendship and respect I remain always your unwaveringly loyal friend and servant.
You have given me great pleasure with your letter, so full of information, dearest friend. I take joy in your good prospects, praise your industriousness, and worry about your preserving your health; but I hope that those worries will be removed by your soon receiving a well paying position or an appointment as chaplain which will not require you to expend your energies so much.
I did not overlook that spot in the “Letters of a Minister” and I noticed at whom it was directed. But it didn't trouble me.
I noticed a certain animosity in Herr Reinhold's letter as well; he is vexed that I have not read his Theory [of the Power of Representation]. I answered him and I hope he will be reconciled to my postponing a complete reading of his book because of my pressing projects. The proof that you give of his proposition concerning the material of representation is comprehensible and correct. If, when I refer to the “material” of a representation, I mean that whereby the object is given, then, if I leave out synthetic unity (combination), which can never be given but only thought, what remains must be the manifold of intuition (for intuition in space and time contains nothing simple).
Your proof of the ideality of space as the form of outer sense is entirely correct; only the beginning is questionable.
In a letter dated Greifswald, May 11, 1797, a letter recently made public, which is distinguished by its singular tone, Herr Johann August Schlettwein demands that I engage in an exchange of letters with him on the critical philosophy. He indicates that he already has various letters prepared on the subject and adds that he believes himself to be in a position to overthrow completely my whole philosophical system, both its theoretical and its practical parts, an event that should be pleasing to every friend of philosophy. But as for the proposed method whereby this refutation is to be carried out, namely, in an exchange of letters, either handwritten or printed, I must answer curtly: Absolutely not. For it is absurd to ask a man in his seventy-fourth year (when “packing one's bags” [sarcinas colligere] is really of the highest importance) to engage in a project that would take many years, just to make even tolerable progress with the criticisms and rejoinders. But the reason why I am making public this declaration (which I have already sent to him) is that his letter clearly had publicity as its object, and since his attack may be broadcast by word of mouth, those people who are interested in such a controversy would otherwise be left waiting empty-handed. Since Herr Schlettwein will not let this difficulty halt his projected overthrow of my system.
My wife was delighted by the book you sent, The Housewife in All Her Tasks, for she had gotten it into her head that you were offended by her bold request and that you would henceforth disregard her. She intends to use this book to teach herself how to become a truly competent farmer. That is a new subject for me as well, since Providence has seen fit to transfer me from schoolroom to plough. I am now a preacher in a loamy diocese that covers a lot of territory. A considerable number of Protestants who live in the adjoining part of Lithuania belong to my congregation and this requires that I make frequent excursions for sick visits. This part of my office is very tiring but I am strong and healthy enough not to pay attention to my fatigue. In other respects my new situation is much more pleasant than my previous teaching position whose depressingly massive work and minimal pay made it hard to make ends meet and support my family. I endured that burden for six years; thank God for letting me rest from it. Now I enjoy contentment and my prospects will be even better when I get out from under the debts I have had to incur as a budding farmer – for cattle, horses, wagon, and a thousand other necessities.
I am always delighted to know and engage in literary discussions with such a talented and learned man as you, my dearest friend. I received the plan for a periodical that you sent me last summer and also the two first monthly issues. I found your Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Mankind splendid, and I shall study them so as to be able to give you my thoughts about them. The paper on sexual differences in organic nature, in the second issue, is impossible for me to decipher, even though the author seems to be an intelligent fellow. There was once a severely critical discussion in the Allgemeine Literaturzeitung about the ideas expressed in the letters of Herr Hube of Thorn concerning a similar relationship extending throughout nature. The ideas were attacked as romantic twaddle. To be sure, we sometimes find something like that running through our heads, without knowing what to make of it. The organization of nature has always struck me as amazing and as a sort of chasm of thought; I mean, the idea that fertilization, in both realms of nature, always needs two sexes in order for the species to be propagated. After all, we don't want to believe that providence has chosen this arrangement, almost playfully, for the sake of variety. On the contrary, we have reason to believe that propagation is not possible in any other way.