a relation between the Imagination and the Understanding in order to
associate intuitions with concepts, and concepts again with those
concepts, which then combine in a cognition. But in that case the
agreement of the two mental powers is _according to law_, under the
constraint of definite concepts. Only where the Imagination in its
freedom awakens the Understanding, and is put by it into regular play
without the aid of concepts, does the representation communicate itself
not as a thought but as an internal feeling of a purposive state of the
mind.
Taste is then the faculty of judging _a priori_ of the communicability
of feelings that are bound up with a given representation (without the
mediation of a concept).
If we could assume that the mere universal communicability of a feeling
must carry in itself an interest for us with it (which, however, we are
not justified in concluding from the character of a merely reflective
Judgement), we should be able to explain why the feeling in the
judgement of taste comes to be imputed to every one, so to speak, as a
duty.
§ 41. _Of the empirical interest in the Beautiful_
That the judgement of taste by which something is declared beautiful
must have no interest _as its determining ground_ has been sufficiently
established above. But it does not follow that after it has been
given as a pure aesthetical judgement, no interest can be combined
with it. This combination, however, can only be indirect, _i.e._ taste
must first of all be represented as combined with something else, in
order that we may unite with the satisfaction of mere reflection upon
an object a _pleasure in its existence_ (as that wherein all interest
consists). For here also in aesthetical judgements what we say in
cognitive judgements (of things in general) is valid; _a posse ad esse
non valet consequentia_. This something else may be empirical, viz. an
inclination proper to human nature, or intellectual, as the property
of the Will of being capable of _a priori_ determination by Reason.
Both these involve a satisfaction in the presence of an Object, and so
can lay the foundation for an interest in what has by itself pleased
without reference to any interest whatever.
Empirically the Beautiful interests only in _society_. If we admit
the impulse to society as natural to man, and his fitness for it, and
his propension towards it, _i.e._ _sociability_, as a requisite for
man as a being destined for society, and so as a property belonging
to _humanity_, we cannot escape from regarding taste as a faculty for
judging everything in respect of which we can communicate our _feeling_
to all other men, and so as a means of furthering that which every
one’s natural inclination desires.
A man abandoned by himself on a desert island would adorn neither his
hut nor his person; nor would he seek for flowers, still less would he
plant them, in order to adorn himself therewith. It is only in society
that it occurs to him to be not merely a man, but a refined man after
his kind (the beginning of civilisation). For such do we judge him to
be who is both inclined and apt to communicate his pleasure to others,
and who is not contented with an Object if he cannot feel satisfaction
in it in common with others. Again, every one expects and requires from
every one else this reference to universal communication [of pleasure],
as it were from an original compact dictated by humanity itself. Thus,
doubtless, in the beginning only those things which attracted the
senses, _e.g._ colours for painting oneself (roucou among the Carabs
and cinnabar among the Iroquois), flowers, mussel shells, beautiful
feathers, etc.,--but in time beautiful forms also (_e.g._ in their
canoes, and clothes, etc.), which bring with them no gratification, or
satisfaction of enjoyment--were important in society, and were combined
with great interest. Until at last civilisation, having reached its
highest point, makes out of this almost the main business of refined
inclination; and sensations are only regarded as of worth in so far as
they can be universally communicated. Here, although the pleasure which
every one has in such an object is inconsiderable and in itself without
any marked interest, yet the Idea of its universal communicability
increases its worth in an almost infinite degree.
But this interest that indirectly attaches to the Beautiful through
our inclination to society, and consequently is empirical, is of no
importance for us here; because we have only to look to what may have
a reference, although only indirectly, to the judgement of taste _a
priori_. For if even in this form an interest bound up therewith should
discover itself, taste would discover a transition of our judging
faculty from sense-enjoyment to moral feeling; and so not only would
we be the better guided in employing taste purposively, but there
would be thus presented a link in the chain of the human faculties _a
priori_, on which all legislation must depend. We can only say thus
much about the empirical interest in objects of taste and in taste
itself. Since it is subservient to inclination, however refined the
latter may be, it may easily be confounded with all the inclinations
and passions, which attain their greatest variety and highest degree in
society; and the interest in the Beautiful, if it is grounded thereon,
can only furnish a very ambiguous transition from the Pleasant to the
Good. But whether this can or cannot be furthered by taste, taken in
its purity, is what we now have to investigate.
§ 42. _Of the intellectual interest in the Beautiful_
With the best intentions those persons who refer all activities, to
which their inner natural dispositions impel men, to the final purpose
of humanity, viz. the morally good, have regarded the taking an
interest in the Beautiful in general as a mark of good moral character.
But it is not without reason that they have been contradicted by others
who rely on experience; for this shows that connoisseurs in taste,
not only often but generally, are given up to idle, capricious, and
mischievous passions, and that they could perhaps make less claim than
others to any pre-eminent attachment to moral principles. Thus it would
seem that the feeling for the Beautiful is not only (as actually is
the case) specifically different from the Moral feeling; but that the
interest which can be bound up with it is hardly compatible with moral
interest, and certainly has no inner affinity therewith.
Now I admit at once that the interest in the _Beautiful of Art_ (under
which I include the artificial use of natural beauties for adornment
and so for vanity) furnishes no proof whatever of a disposition
attached to the morally good or even inclined thereto. But on the
other hand, I maintain that to take an _immediate interest_ in the
Beauty of Nature (not merely to have taste in judging it) is always
a mark of a good soul; and that when this interest is habitual it at
least indicates a frame of mind favourable to the moral feeling, if it
is voluntarily bound up with the _contemplation of nature_. It is to
be remembered, however, that I here speak strictly of the beautiful
_forms_ of Nature, and I set aside the _charms_, that she is wont to
combine so abundantly with them; because, though the interest in the
latter is indeed immediate, it is only empirical.
He who by himself (and without any design of communicating his
observations to others) regards the beautiful figure of a wild flower,
a bird, an insect, etc., with admiration and love--who would not
willingly miss it in Nature, although it may bring him some hurt, who
still less wants any advantage from it--_he_ takes an immediate and
also an intellectual interest in the beauty of Nature. _I.e._ it is not
merely the form of the product of nature which pleases him, but its
very presence pleases him, the charms of sense having no share in this
pleasure and no purpose whatever being combined with it.
But it is noteworthy that if we secretly deceived this lover of the
beautiful by planting in the ground artificial flowers (which can be
manufactured exactly like natural ones), or by placing artificially
carved birds on the boughs of trees, and he discovered the deceit, the
immediate interest that he previously took in them would disappear
at once; though, perhaps, a different interest, viz. the interest of
vanity in adorning his chamber with them for the eyes of others, would
take its place. This thought then must accompany our intuition and
reflection on beauty, viz. that nature has produced it; and on this
alone is based the immediate interest that we take in it. Otherwise,
there remains a mere judgement of taste, either devoid of all interest,
or bound up with a mediate interest, viz. in that it has reference to
society; which latter [interest] furnishes no certain indications of a
morally good disposition.
This superiority of natural to artificial beauty in that it alone
arouses an immediate interest, although as regards form the first
may be surpassed by the second, harmonises with the refined and
well-grounded habit of thought of all men who have cultivated their
moral feeling. If a man who has taste enough to judge of the products
of beautiful Art with the greatest accuracy and refinement willingly
leaves a chamber where are to be found those beauties that minister to
vanity or to any social joys, and turns to the beautiful in Nature in
order to find, as it were, delight for his spirit in a train of thought
that he can never completely evolve, we will regard this choice of his
with veneration, and attribute to him a beautiful soul, to which no
connoisseur or lover [of Art] can lay claim on account of the interest
he takes in his [artistic] objects.--What now is the difference in
our estimation of these two different kinds of Objects, which in the
judgement of mere taste it is hard to compare in point of superiority?
We have a faculty of mere aesthetical Judgement by which we judge forms
without the aid of concepts, and find a satisfaction in this mere act
of judgement; this we make into a rule for every one, without this
judgement either being based on or producing any interest.--On the
other hand, we have also a faculty of intellectual Judgement which
determines an _a priori_ satisfaction for the mere forms of practical
maxims (so far as they are in themselves qualified for universal
legislation); this we make into a law for every one, without our
judgement being based on any interest whatever, _though in this case
it produces such an interest_. The pleasure or pain in the former
judgement is called that of taste, in the latter, that of moral feeling.
But it also interests Reason that the Ideas (for which in moral feeling
it arouses an immediate interest) should have objective reality; _i.e._
that nature should at least show a trace or give an indication that
it contains in itself some ground for assuming a regular agreement of
its products with our entirely disinterested satisfaction (which we
recognise _a priori_ as a law for every one, without being able to base
it upon proofs). Hence Reason must take an interest in every expression
on the part of nature of an agreement of this kind. Consequently, the
mind cannot ponder upon the beauty of _Nature_ without finding itself
at the same time interested therein. But this interest is akin to
moral, and he who takes such an interest in the beauties of nature
can do so only in so far as he previously has firmly established his
interest in the morally good. If, therefore, the beauty of Nature
interests a man immediately we have reason for attributing to him, at
least, a basis for a good moral disposition.
It will be said that this account of aesthetical judgements, as akin
to the moral feeling, seems far too studied to be regarded as the
true interpretation of that cipher through which Nature speaks to us
figuratively in her beautiful forms. However, in the first place,
this immediate interest in the beautiful is actually not common; but
is peculiar to those whose mental disposition either has already been
cultivated in the direction of the good or is eminently susceptible
of such cultivation. In that case the analogy between the pure
judgement of taste which, independently of any interest, causes us to
feel a satisfaction, and also represents it _a priori_ as suitable
to humanity in general, and the moral judgement that does the same
thing from concepts without any clear, subtle, and premeditated
reflection--this analogy leads to a similar immediate interest in the
objects of the former as in those of the latter; only that in the
one case the interest is free, in the other it is based on objective
laws. To this is to be added our admiration for Nature, which displays
itself in its beautiful products as Art, not merely by chance, but
as it were designedly, in accordance with a regular arrangement, and
as purposiveness without purpose. This latter, as we never meet with
it outside ourselves, we naturally seek in ourselves; and, in fact,
in that which constitutes the ultimate purpose of our being, viz.
our moral destination. (Of this question as to the ground of the
possibility of such natural purposiveness we shall first speak in the
Teleology.)
It is easy to explain why the satisfaction in the pure aesthetical
judgement in the case of beautiful Art is not combined with an
immediate interest as it is in the case of beautiful Nature. For the
former is either such an imitation of the latter that it reaches the
point of deception and then produces the same effect as natural beauty
(for which it is taken); or it is an art obviously directed designedly
to our satisfaction. In the latter case the satisfaction in the product
would, it is true, be brought about immediately by taste, but it would
be only a mediate interest in the cause lying at its root, viz. an art
that can only interest by means of its purpose and never in itself.
It will, perhaps, be said that this is also the case, if an Object
of nature interests us by its beauty only so far as it is associated
with a moral Idea. But it is not the Object itself which immediately
interests us, but its character in virtue of which it is qualified for
such association, which therefore essentially belongs to it.
The charms in beautiful Nature, which are so often found, as it
were, blended with beautiful forms, may be referred to modifications
either of light (colours) or of sound (tones). For these are the only
sensations that imply not merely a sensible feeling but also reflection
upon the form of these modifications of Sense; and thus they involve
in themselves as it were a language by which nature speaks to us,
which thus seems to have a higher sense. Thus the white colour of
lilies seems to determine the mind to Ideas of innocence; and the seven
colours in order from the red to the violet seem to suggest the Ideas
of (1) Sublimity, (2) Intrepidity, (3) Candour, (4) Friendliness, (5)
Modesty, (6) Constancy, (7) Tenderness. The song of birds proclaims
gladsomeness and contentment with existence. At least so we interpret
nature, whether it have this design or not. But the interest which
we here take in beauty has only to do with the beauty of Nature; it
vanishes altogether as soon as we notice that we are deceived and
that it is only Art--vanishes so completely that taste can no longer
find the thing beautiful or sight find it charming. What is more
highly praised by poets than the bewitching and beautiful note of the
nightingale in a lonely copse on a still summer evening by the soft
light of the moon? And yet we have instances of a merry host, where no
such songster was to be found, deceiving to their great contentment
the guests who were staying with him to enjoy the country air, by
hiding in a bush a mischievous boy who knew how to produce this sound
exactly like nature (by means of a reed or a tube in his mouth). But
as soon as we are aware that it is a cheat, no one will remain long
listening to the song which before was counted so charming. And it is
just the same with the songs of all other birds. It must be Nature or
be regarded as Nature, if we are to take an immediate _interest_ in the
Beautiful as such; and still more is this the case if we can require
that others should take an interest in it too. This happens as a matter
of fact when we regard as coarse and ignoble the mental attitude of
those persons who have no _feeling_ for beautiful Nature (for thus we
describe a susceptibility to interest in its contemplation), and who
confine themselves to eating and drinking--to the mere enjoyments of
sense.
§ 43. _Of Art in general_
(1). _Art_ is distinguished from Nature, as doing (_facere_) is
distinguished from acting or working generally (_agere_), and as the
product or result of the former is distinguished as _work_ (_opus_)
from the working (_effectus_) of the latter.
By right we ought only to describe as Art, production through freedom,
_i.e._ through a will that places Reason at the basis of its actions.
For although we like to call the product of bees (regularly built
cells of wax) a work of art, this is only by way of analogy: as soon
as we feel that this work of theirs is based on no proper rational
deliberation, we say that it is a product of Nature (of instinct), and
as Art only ascribe it to their Creator.
If, as sometimes happens, in searching through a bog we come upon a bit
of shaped wood, we do not say: this is a product of Nature, but, of
Art. Its producing cause has conceived a purpose to which the bit of
wood owes its form. Elsewhere too we should see art in everything which
is made so that a representation of it in its cause must have preceded
its actuality (as even in the case of the bees), though the effect
could not have been _thought_ by the cause. But if we call anything
absolutely a work of art in order to distinguish it from a natural
effect, we always understand by that a work of man.
(2). _Art_ regarded as human skill differs from _science_ (as _can_
from _know_) as a practical faculty does from a theoretical, as Technic
does from Theory (as mensuration from geometry). And so what we _can_
do, as soon as we merely _know_ what ought to be done and therefore
are sufficiently cognisant of the desired effect, is not called
Art. Only that which a man, even if he knows it completely, may not
therefore have the skill to accomplish, belongs to Art. _Camper_[75]
describes very exactly how the best shoes must be made, but he
certainly could not make one.[76]
(3). _Art_ also differs from _handicraft_; the first is called _free_,
the other may be called mercenary. We regard the first as if it could
only prove purposive as play, _i.e._ as occupation that is pleasant in
itself. But the second is regarded as if it could only be compulsorily
imposed upon one as work, _i.e._ as occupation which is unpleasant (a
trouble) in itself, and which is only attractive on account of its
effect (_e.g._ the wage). Whether or not in the graded list of the
professions we ought to count watchmakers as artists, but smiths only
as handicraftsmen, would require another point of view from which to
judge than that which we are here taking up; viz. [we should have to
consider] the proportion of talents which must be assumed requisite in
these several occupations. Whether or not, again, under the so-called
seven free arts some may be included which ought to be classed as
sciences, and many that are akin rather to handicraft, I shall not
here discuss. But it is not inexpedient to recall that in all free
arts there is yet requisite something compulsory, or, as it is called,
_mechanism_, without which the _spirit_, which must be free in art and
which alone inspires the work, would have no body and would evaporate
altogether; _e.g._ in poetry there must be an accuracy and wealth of
language, and also prosody and metre. [It is not inexpedient, I say,
to recall this], for many modern educators believe that the best way
to produce a free art is to remove it from all constraint, and thus to
change it from work into mere play.
§ 44. _Of beautiful Art_
There is no Science of the Beautiful, but only a Critique of it; and
there is no such thing as beautiful Science, but only beautiful Art.
For as regards the first point, if it could be decided scientifically,
_i.e._ by proofs, whether a thing was to be regarded as beautiful or
not, the judgement upon beauty would belong to science and would not
be a judgement of taste. And as far as the second point is concerned,
a science which should be beautiful as such is a nonentity. For if
in such a science we were to ask for grounds and proofs, we would be
put off with tasteful phrases (bon-mots).--The source of the common
expression, _beautiful science_, is without doubt nothing else than
this, as it has been rightly remarked, that for beautiful art in its
entire completeness much science is requisite; _e.g._ a knowledge
of ancient languages, a learned familiarity with classical authors,
history, a knowledge of antiquities, etc. And hence these historical
sciences, because they form the necessary preparation and basis for
beautiful art, and also partly because under them is included the
knowledge of the products of beautiful art (rhetoric and poetry), have
come to be called beautiful sciences by a confusion of words.
If art which is adequate to the _cognition_ of a possible object
performs the actions requisite therefore merely in order to make it
actual, it is _mechanical_ art; but if it has for its immediate design
the feeling of pleasure, it is called _aesthetical_ art. This is again
either _pleasant_ or _beautiful_. It is the first, if its purpose is
that the pleasure should accompany the representations [of the object]
regarded as mere _sensations_; it is the second if they are regarded as
_modes of cognition_.
Pleasant arts are those that are directed merely to enjoyment. Of
this class are all those charming arts that can gratify a company at
table; _e.g._ the art of telling stories in an entertaining way, of
starting the company in frank and lively conversation, of raising them
by jest and laugh to a certain pitch of merriment;[77] when, as people
say, there may be a great deal of gossip at the feast, but no one
will be answerable for what he says, because they are only concerned
with momentary entertainment, and not with any permanent material
for reflection or subsequent discussion. (Among these are also to be
reckoned the way of arranging the table for enjoyment, and, at great
feasts, the management of the music. This latter is a wonderful thing.
It is meant to dispose to gaiety the minds of the guests, regarded
solely as a pleasant noise, without any one paying the least attention
to its composition; and it favours the free conversation of each
with his neighbour.) Again, to this class belong all games which
bring with them no further interest than that of making the time pass
imperceptibly.
On the other hand, beautiful art is a mode of representation which is
purposive for itself, and which, although devoid of [definite] purpose,
yet furthers the culture of the mental powers in reference to social
communication.
The universal communicability of a pleasure carries with it in its very
concept that the pleasure is not one of enjoyment, from mere sensation,
but must be derived from reflection; and thus aesthetical art, as
the art of beauty, has for standard the reflective Judgement and not
sensation.
§ 45. _Beautiful Art is an art, in so far as it seems like nature_
In a product of beautiful art we must become conscious that it is Art
and not Nature; but yet the purposiveness in its form must seem to be
as free from all constraint of arbitrary rules as if it were a product
of mere nature. On this feeling of freedom in the play of our cognitive
faculties, which must at the same time be purposive, rests that
pleasure which alone is universally communicable, without being based
on concepts. Nature is beautiful because it looks like Art; and Art can
only be called beautiful if we are conscious of it as Art while yet it
looks like Nature.