But even stormy movements of mind which may be connected under the

name of edification with Ideas of religion, or--as merely belonging

to culture--with Ideas containing a social interest, can in no way,

however they strain the Imagination, lay claim to the honour of

being _sublime_ presentations, unless they leave after them a mental

mood which, although only indirectly, has influence upon the mind’s

consciousness of its strength, and its resolution in reference to that

which involves pure intellectual purposiveness (the supersensible). For

otherwise all these emotions belong only to _motion_, which one would

fain enjoy for the sake of health. The pleasant exhaustion, consequent

upon such disturbance produced by the play of the affections, is an

enjoyment of our well-being arising from the restored equilibrium of

the various vital forces. This in the end amounts to the same thing as

that state which Eastern voluptuaries find so delightful, when they

get their bodies as it were kneaded and all their muscles and joints

softly pressed and bent; only that in this case the motive principle

is for the most part external, in the other case it is altogether

internal. Many a man believes himself to be edified by a sermon, when

indeed there is no edification at all (no system of good maxims); or

to be improved by a tragedy, when he is only glad at his ennui being

happily dispelled. So the Sublime must always have reference to the

_disposition_, _i.e._ to the maxims which furnish to the intellectual

[part] and to the Ideas of Reason a superiority over sensibility.

We need not fear that the feeling of the sublime will lose by so

abstract a mode of presentation,--which is quite negative in respect

of what is sensible,--for the Imagination, although it finds nothing

beyond the sensible to which it can attach itself, yet feels itself

unbounded by this removal of its limitations; and thus that very

abstraction is a presentation of the Infinite, which can be nothing

but a mere negative presentation, but which yet expands the soul.

Perhaps there is no sublimer passage in the Jewish Law than the

command, _Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, nor the

likeness of anything which is in heaven or on the earth or under the

earth_, etc. This command alone can explain the enthusiasm that the

Jewish people in their moral period felt for their religion, when they

compared themselves with other peoples; or explain the pride which

Mahommedanism inspires. The same is true of the moral law and of the

tendency to morality in us. It is quite erroneous to fear that if we

deprive this [tendency] of all that can recommend it to sense it will

only involve a cold lifeless assent and no moving force or emotion. It

is quite the other way, for where the senses see nothing more before

them, and the unmistakable and indelible Idea of morality remains,

it would be rather necessary to moderate the impetus of an unbounded

Imagination, to prevent it from rising to enthusiasm, than through fear

of the powerlessness of these Ideas to seek aid for them in images and

childish ritual. Thus governments have willingly allowed religion to be

abundantly provided with the latter accessories; and seeking thereby

to relieve their subjects of trouble, they have also sought to deprive

them of the faculty of extending their spiritual powers beyond the

limits that are arbitrarily assigned to them, and by means of which

they can be the more easily treated as mere passive[59] beings.

This pure, elevating, merely negative presentation of morality brings

with it, on the other hand, no danger of _fanaticism_, which is _a

delusion that we can will ourselves to see something beyond all bounds

of sensibility_, _i.e._ to dream in accordance with fundamental

propositions (or to go mad with Reason); and this is so just because

this presentation is merely negative. For the _inscrutableness of the

Idea of Freedom_ quite cuts it off from any positive presentation; but

the moral law is in itself sufficiently and originally determinant

in us, so that it does not permit us to cast a glance at any ground

of determination external to itself. If enthusiasm is comparable to

_madness_, fanaticism is comparable to _monomania_; of which the latter

is least of all compatible with the sublime, because in its detail it

is ridiculous. In enthusiasm, regarded as an affection, the Imagination

is without bridle; in fanaticism, regarded as an inveterate, brooding

passion, it is without rule. The first is a transitory accident which

sometimes befalls the soundest Understanding; the second is a disease

which unsettles it.

_Simplicity_ (purposiveness without art) is as it were the style of

Nature in the sublime, and so also of Morality which is a second

(supersensible) nature; of which we only know the laws without being

able to reach by intuition that supersensible faculty in ourselves

which contains the ground of the legislation.

Now the satisfaction in the Beautiful, like that in the Sublime,

is not alone distinguishable from other aesthetical judgements by

its universal _communicability_, but also because, through this

very property, it acquires an interest in reference to society (in

which this communication is possible). We must, however, remark that

_separation from all society_ is regarded as sublime, if it rests

upon Ideas that overlook all sensible interest. To be sufficient for

oneself, and consequently to have no need of society, without at the

same time being unsociable, _i.e._ without flying from it, is something

bordering on the sublime; as is any dispensing with wants. On the other

hand, to fly from men from _misanthropy_, because we bear ill-will to

them, or from _anthropophoby_ (shyness), because we fear them as foes,

is partly hateful, partly contemptible. There is indeed a misanthropy

(very improperly so-called), the tendency to which frequently appears

with old age in many right-thinking men; which is philanthropic enough

as far as _goodwill_ to men is concerned, but which through long and

sad experience is far removed from _satisfaction_ with men. Evidence of

this is afforded by the propensity to solitude, the fantastic wish for

a secluded country seat, or (in the case of young persons) by the dream

of the happiness of passing one’s life with a little family upon some

island unknown to the rest of the world; a dream of which story-tellers

or writers of Robinsonades know how to make good use. Falsehood,

ingratitude, injustice, the childishness of the purposes regarded by

ourselves as important and great, in the pursuit of which men inflict

upon each other all imaginable evils, are so contradictory to the Idea

of what men might be if they would, and conflict so with our lively

wish to see them better, that, in order that we may not hate them

(since we cannot love them), the renunciation of all social joys seems

but a small sacrifice. This sadness--not the sadness (of which sympathy

is the cause) for the evils which fate brings upon others,--but for

those things which men do to one another (which depends upon an

antipathy in fundamental propositions), is sublime, because it rests

upon Ideas, whilst the former can only count as beautiful.--The

brilliant and thorough _Saussure_,[60] in his account of his Alpine

travels, says of one of the Savoy mountains, called _Bonhomme_, “There

reigns there a certain _insipid sadness_.” He therefore recognised an

_interesting_ sadness, that the sight of a solitude might inspire, to

which men might wish to transport themselves that they might neither

hear nor experience any more of the world; which, however, would not

be quite so inhospitable that it would offer only an extremely painful

retreat.--I make this remark solely with the design of indicating

again that even depression (not dejected sadness) may be counted among

the _sturdy_ affections, if it has its ground in moral Ideas. But if it

is grounded on sympathy and, as such, is amiable, it belongs merely to

the _languid_ affections. [I make this remark] to call attention to the

state of mind which is _sublime_ only in the first case.

* * * * *

We can now compare the above Transcendental Exposition of aesthetical

judgements with the Physiological worked out by _Burke_ and by many

clear-headed men among us, in order to see whither a merely empirical

exposition of the Sublime and Beautiful leads. _Burke_, who deserves

to be regarded as the most important author who adopts this mode of

treatment, infers by this method “that the feeling of the Sublime

rests on the impulse towards self-preservation and on _fear_, _i.e._

on a pain, which not going so far as actually to derange the parts of

the body, produces movements which, since they purify the finer or

grosser vessels of dangerous or troublesome stoppages, are capable

of exciting pleasant sensations; not indeed pleasure, but a kind of

satisfying horror, a certain tranquillity tinged with terror.”[61] The

Beautiful, which he founded on love (which he wishes to keep quite

separate from desire), he reduces to “the relaxing, slackening, and

enervating of the fibres of the body, and a consequent weakening,

languor, and exhaustion, a fainting, dissolving, and melting away for

enjoyment.”[62] And he confirms this explanation not only by cases in

which the Imagination in combination with the Understanding can excite

in us the feeling of the Beautiful or of the Sublime, but by cases in

which it is combined with sensation.--As psychological observations,

these analyses of the phenomena of our mind are exceedingly beautiful,

and afford rich material for the favourite investigations of empirical

anthropology. It is also not to be denied that all representations

in us, whether, objectively viewed, they are merely sensible or are

quite intellectual, may yet subjectively be united to gratification

or grief, however imperceptible either may be; because they all

affect the feeling of life, and none of them, so far as it is a

modification of the subject, can be indifferent. And so, as Epicurus

maintained, all _gratification_ or _grief_ may ultimately be corporeal,

whether it arises from the representations of the Imagination or the

Understanding; because life without a feeling of bodily organs would be

merely a consciousness of existence, without any feeling of well-being

or the reverse, _i.e._ of the furthering or the checking of the vital

powers. For the mind is by itself alone life (the principle of life),

and hindrances or furtherances must be sought outside it and yet in

the man, consequently in union with his body.

If, however, we place the satisfaction in the object altogether in

the fact that it gratifies us by charm or emotion, we must not assume

that any _other_ man agrees with the aesthetical judgement which _we_

pass; for as to these each one rightly consults his own individual

sensibility. But in that case all censorship of taste would disappear,

except indeed the example afforded by the accidental agreement of

others in their judgements were regarded as _commanding_ our assent;

and this principle we should probably resist, and should appeal to the

natural right of subjecting the judgement, which rests on the immediate

feeling of our own well-being, to our own sense and not to that of any

other man.

If then the judgement of taste is not to be valid merely

_egoistically_, but according to its inner nature,--_i.e._ on account

of itself and not on account of the examples that others give of their

taste,--to be necessarily valid _pluralistically_, if we regard it

as a judgement which may exact the adhesion of every one; then there

must lie at its basis some _a priori_ principle (whether objective or

subjective) to which we can never attain by seeking out the empirical

laws of mental changes. For these only enable us to know how we judge,

but do not prescribe to us how we ought to judge. They do not supply an

_unconditioned_ command,[63] such as judgements of taste presuppose,

inasmuch as they require that the satisfaction be _immediately_

connected with the representation. Thus the empirical exposition of

aesthetical judgements may be a beginning of a collection of materials

for a higher investigation; but a transcendental discussion of this

faculty is also possible, and is an essential part of the Critique of

Taste. For if it had not _a priori_ principles, it could not possibly

pass sentence on the judgements of others, and it could not approve or

blame them with any appearance of right.

The remaining part of the Analytic of the Aesthetical Judgement

contains first the

DEDUCTION OF [PURE[64]] AESTHETICAL JUDGEMENTS

§ 30. _The Deduction of aesthetical judgements on the objects of nature

must not be directed to what we call Sublime in nature, but only to the

Beautiful._

The claim of an aesthetical judgement to universal validity for every

subject requires, as a judgement resting on some _a priori_ principle,

a Deduction (or legitimatising of its pretensions) in addition to its

Exposition; if it is concerned with satisfaction or dissatisfaction

in the _form of the Object_. Of this kind are judgements of taste

about the Beautiful in Nature. For in that case the purposiveness

has its ground in the Object and in its figure, although it does not

indicate the reference of this to other objects according to concepts

(for a cognitive judgement), but merely has to do in general with the

apprehension of this form, so far as it shows itself conformable in the

mind to the _faculty_ of concepts and to that of their presentation

(which is identical with that of apprehension). We can thus, in respect

of the Beautiful in nature, suggest many questions touching the cause

of this purposiveness of their forms, _e.g._ to explain why nature has

scattered abroad beauty with such profusion, even in the depth of the

ocean, where the human eye (for which alone that purposiveness exists)

but seldom penetrates.

But the Sublime in nature--if we are passing upon it a pure aesthetical

judgement, not mixed up with any concepts of perfection or objective

purposiveness, in which case it would be a teleological judgement--may

be regarded as quite formless or devoid of figure, and yet as the

object of a pure satisfaction; and it may display a subjective

purposiveness in the given representation. And we ask if, for an

aesthetical judgement of this kind,--over and above the Exposition

of what is thought in it,--a Deduction also of its claim to any

(subjective) _a priori_ principle may be demanded?

To which we may answer that the Sublime in nature is improperly so

called, and that properly speaking the word should only be applied

to a state of mind, or rather to its foundation in human nature. The

apprehension of an otherwise formless and unpurposive object gives

merely the occasion, through which we become conscious of such a state;

the object is thus _employed_ as subjectively purposive, but is not

judged as such _in itself_ and on account of its form (it is, as it

were, a _species finalis accepta, non data_). Hence our Exposition of

judgements concerning the Sublime in nature was at the same time their

Deduction. For when we analysed the reflection of the Judgement in such

acts, we found in them a purposive relation of the cognitive faculties,

which must be ascribed ultimately to the faculty of purposes (the

will), and hence is itself purposive _a priori_. This then immediately

involves the Deduction, _i.e._ the justification of the claim of such a

judgement to universal and necessary validity.

We shall therefore only have to seek for the deduction of judgements

of Taste, _i.e._ of judgements about the Beauty of natural things;

we shall thus treat satisfactorily the problem with which the whole

faculty of aesthetical Judgement is concerned.

§ 31. _Of the method of deduction of judgements of Taste_

A Deduction, _i.e._ the guarantee of the legitimacy of a class

of judgements, is only obligatory if the judgement lays claim to

necessity. This it does, if it demands even subjective universality or

the agreement of every one, although it is not a judgement of cognition

but only one of pleasure or pain in a given object; _i.e._ it assumes a

subjective purposiveness thoroughly valid for every one, which must not

be based on any concept of the thing, because the judgement is one of

taste.

We have before us in the latter case no cognitive judgement--neither a

theoretical one based on the concept of a _Nature_ in general formed

by the Understanding, nor a (pure) practical one based on the Idea of

_Freedom_, as given _a priori_ by Reason. Therefore we have to justify

_a priori_ the validity neither of a judgement which represents what

a thing is, nor of one which prescribes that I ought to do something

in order to produce it. We have merely to prove for the Judgement

generally the _universal validity_ of a singular judgement that

expresses the subjective purposiveness of an empirical representation

of the form of an object; in order to explain how it is possible that

a thing can please in the mere act of judging it (without sensation or

concept), and how the satisfaction of one man can be proclaimed as a

rule for every other; just as the act of judging of an object for the

sake of a _cognition_ in general has universal rules.

If now this universal validity is not to be based on any collecting of

the suffrages of others, or on any questioning of them as to the kind

of sensations they have, but is to rest, as it were, on an autonomy of

the judging subject in respect of the feeling of pleasure (in the given

representation), _i.e._ on his own taste, and yet is not to be derived

from concepts; then a judgement like this--such as the judgement of

taste is, in fact--has a twofold logical peculiarity. _First_, there is

its _a priori_ universal validity, which is not a logical universality

in accordance with concepts, but the universality of a singular

judgement. _Secondly_, it has a necessity (which must always rest on

_a priori_ grounds), which however does not depend on any _a priori_

grounds of proof, through the representation of which the assent that

every one concedes to the judgement of taste could be exacted.

The solution of these logical peculiarities, wherein a judgement

of taste is different from all cognitive judgements--if we at the

outset abstract from all content, viz. from the feeling of pleasure,

and merely compare the aesthetical form with the form of objective

judgements as logic prescribes it--is sufficient by itself for the

deduction of this singular faculty. We shall then represent and

elucidate by examples these characteristic properties of taste.

§ 32. _First peculiarity of the judgement of Taste_

The judgement of taste determines its object in respect of satisfaction

(in its beauty) with an accompanying claim for the assent of _every

one_, just as if it were objective.

To say that “this flower is beautiful” is the same as to assert its

proper claim to satisfy every one. By the pleasantness of its smell

it has no such claim. A smell which one man enjoys gives another a

headache. Now what are we to presume from this except that beauty is

to be regarded as a property of the flower itself, which does not

accommodate itself to any diversity of persons or of their sensitive

organs, but to which these must accommodate themselves if they are to

pass any judgement upon it? And yet this is not so. For a judgement

of taste consists in calling a thing beautiful just because of that

characteristic in respect of which it accommodates itself to our mode

of apprehension.

Moreover, it is required of every judgement which is to prove the

taste of the subject, that the subject shall judge by himself, without

needing to grope about empirically among the judgements of others, and

acquaint himself previously as to their satisfaction or dissatisfaction

with the same object; thus his judgement should be pronounced _a

priori_, and not be a mere imitation because the thing actually gives

universal pleasure. One would think, however, that an _a priori_

judgement must contain a concept of the Object, for the cognition of

which it contains the principle; but the judgement of taste is not

based upon concepts at all, and is in general not a cognitive but an

aesthetical judgement.

Thus a young poet does not permit himself to be dissuaded from his

conviction that his poem is beautiful, by the judgement of the public

or of his friends; and if he gives ear to them he does so, not because

he now judges differently, but because, although (in regard to him)

the whole public has false taste, in his desire for applause he finds

reason for accommodating himself to the common error (even against his

judgement). It is only at a later time, when his Judgement has been

sharpened by exercise, that he voluntarily departs from his former

judgements; just as he proceeds with those of his judgements which rest

upon Reason. Taste [merely][65] claims autonomy. To make the judgements

of others the determining grounds of his own would be heteronomy.

That we, and rightly, recommend the works of the ancients as models

and call their authors classical, thus forming among writers a kind

of noble class who give laws to the people by their example, seems

to indicate _a posteriori_ sources of taste, and to contradict the

autonomy of taste in every subject. But we might just as well say

that the old mathematicians,--who are regarded up to the present day

as supplying models not easily to be dispensed with for the supreme

profundity and elegance of their synthetical methods,--prove that our

Reason is only imitative, and that we have not the faculty of producing

from it in combination with intuition rigid proofs by means of the

construction of concepts.[66] There is no use of our powers, however

free, no use of Reason itself (which must create all its judgements

_a priori_ from common sources) which would not give rise to faulty

attempts, if every subject had always to begin anew from the rude basis

of his natural state, and if others had not preceded him with their

attempts. Not that these make mere imitators of those who come after

them, but rather by their procedure they put others on the track of

seeking in themselves principles and so of pursuing their own course,

often a better one. Even in religion--where certainly every one has

to derive the rule of his conduct from himself, because he remains

responsible for it and cannot shift the blame of his transgressions

upon others, whether his teachers or his predecessors--there is never

as much accomplished by means of universal precepts, either obtained

from priests or philosophers or got from oneself, as by means of

an example of virtue or holiness which, exhibited in history, does

not dispense with the autonomy of virtue based on the proper and

original Idea of morality (_a priori_), or change it into a mechanical

imitation. _Following_, involving something precedent, not “imitation,”

is the right expression for all influence that the products of an

exemplary author may have upon others. And this only means that we

draw from the same sources as our predecessor did, and learn from him

only the way to avail ourselves of them. But of all faculties and

talents Taste, because its judgement is not determinable by concepts

and precepts, is just that one which most needs examples of what has

in the progress of culture received the longest approval; that it may

not become again uncivilised and return to the crudeness of its first

essays.

§ 33. _Second peculiarity of the judgement of Taste_

The judgement of taste is not determinable by grounds of proof, just as

if it were merely _subjective_.

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