at present at any rate, we do not take account. This appears when
the word is used to designate _the state_ of the spirit or of one of
the special forms of the spirit; we should indeed term these more
correctly the _states,_ since the spirit in this case, as is known,
is polarized in two opposite terms, usually denominated _pleasure and
pain._ Indubitably these two terms can also be taken as psychological
(and are thus included in the preceding case). Hence it results that
pleasure and pain are represented by psychologists as the two extremes
of a continuous series, in which there is a passage from the one to
the other term by insensible increases and gradations. But we must
also recognize that this psychological representation is not the only
one possible, and indeed is not truly the real one, and that the two
terms have their place and their proper meaning in the philosophy
of the spirit. They are, as has been said, _opposites;_ and are
differentiated, not only by a more and a less, by a greatest and a
least, but also by the special character of distinction that opposites
possess. The doctrine of opposites and of opposites in the practical
activity of the spirit does not, however, appertain to this part of our
exposition. In denying feeling, we do not here deny the doctrine of
opposites, and that psychology of the _states_ of the spirit which is
founded upon it, but the doctrine of feeling considered as a particular
_form_ of _activity._
[Sidenote: _Function of the concept of feeling in the History of
philosophy; the indeterminate._]
The conception of feeling as a spiritual activity has answered to a
want of research, which may be described as _provisional excogitation._
Whenever thought has found itself face to face with a form or subform
of spiritual activity, which it was not possible either to eliminate
or to absorb in forms already recognized, the problem to be solved
has been endorsed with that word "feeling." With many this has passed
for a solution. Feeling, in fact, has been the indeterminate in the
history of philosophy, or rather the not yet fully determined, the
_half-determined._
Hence its great importance as an expedient for the indication of
new territories to conquer, and as a stimulus against remaining
obstinately shut up in old and insufficient formulæ. But hence also
its fate: the problem must not be exchanged for its solution, the
indeterminate or semi-determinate must be determined. Whenever the
determination of the forms and sub-forms of the spirit has not been
given in a complete manner, the category of feeling will reappear (and
it will be beneficial); but at the same time will reappear the duty of
exploring it and of understanding what is concealed beneath it, or at
least what unsolved difficulty has caused it to reappear afresh.
Now we have already met with the concept of feeling on more than one
occasion, when investigating the philosophy of the theoretic spirit,
as something supplying a theoretical need outside the theoretic forms
generally admitted, or as a special form of theoretic activity. Every
time that we have done this, an attentive examination has caused it
to disappear before our eyes, and has generally helped us, either to
discover something previously unknown, or to confirm the necessity of
contested categories.
[Sidenote: _Feeling as herald of the æsthetic form;_]
Thus it happened that when a special _æsthetic_ function was
not recognized and it was attempted to explain it, either
intellectualistically, as nothing but an inferior form of philosophy,
or historically, as a reproduction of the historical and natural datum,
or almost as the satisfaction of certain volitional wants (hedonistic
theory), the view of art as neither a form of the intellect nor of
perception nor of will, but of _feeling,_ was an advance, as also
was the appeal to men of _feeling_ to recognize and to judge it.
As a result of this insistence, it was eventually discovered that
art possessed an absolutely simple and ingenuous theoretic form,
without either intellectual or historical contents, the form of the
pure intuition which is that of the æsthetic and artistic activity.
Whoever returns to treat of art as a product of feeling, after this
discovery of the pure intuition, falls back from the determinate to the
semi-determinate, and is at the mercy of all the dangers which arise
from it.
[Sidenote: _As herald of the intuitive element in Historiography._]
The theory of historiography owes its progress in like manner to the
demonstration that it is impossible to deduce the historical statement
from concepts, but that we must deduce it in final analysis from an
immediate _feeling_ of the real, that is to say, from the _intuitive_
element, which inevitably exists in every historical reconstruction,
as in every perception. On the other hand, and in altogether another
sense, reacting against the false idea of an extra--subjective
historical objectivity, to be found in the mere reproduction of the
datum, it was made evident that no historical narration is possible
without the _reaction of feeling_ in respect to the datum. Thus was
discovered the indispensability of the _intellective_ element in the
historical affirmation. Whoever has recourse to feeling as a factor
in historiography, after this complete constitution of the historical
judgment, returns from the clear to the confused, from light, if not to
darkness, then to twilight.
[Sidenote: _Feeling as herald of the pure concept in philosophical
Logic._]
The concept of feeling has also been of capital importance in the
progress of the Logic of philosophy. For how could we begin to explain
that philosophy is constructed with a method altogether different from
that of the exact disciplines (natural sciences and mathematics),
without denying to those sciences the capacity of conquering the
supreme truth, the true truth, full reality, and recognizing such
capacity on the other hand to a special function called _feeling_
or _immediate_ knowledge? That function was void, that is to say,
undetermined, because defined in a negative and not in a positive
manner: feeling was something different from the abstract and arbitrary
procedure of the exact sciences, from the abstract intellect, but its
true nature was unknown. When this was at last known it was discovered
that it was not a question of "feeling" or of "immediate knowledge,"
but of the intellect itself, in its genuine and uncontaminated nature,
its pure and free activity, of intellect as _reason,_ of thought as
_speculative_ thought, of that "immediate knowledge," which is true,
intrinsic, perpetual _mediation._ Whoever henceforth returns to
feeling, after the discovery of the pure or speculative concept, and
believes it to be the creator of philosophy and of religion, fighting
with it against the natural and mathematical sciences, behaves as he
who should wish to return to-day to the flint-lock, for the excellent
reason that it was an advance upon the bow and the catapult. Thus those
who invoke feeling in philosophy are henceforth a little ridiculous.
This does not imply that they were not at one time to be taken
seriously, for this concept has been of great provisional assistance
and has been as it were the compass of the new idea of philosophy.
[Sidenote: _Analogous function in the Philosophy of the practical._]
The same will be the case in the investigation that we have begun of
the practical form of the spirit and of the problems to which it gives
rise. This concept of feeling has been mingled with them all, and
propositions have been formed, of which we shall indicate the true
significance in the proper places. Beginning at once and limiting
ourselves solely to the question of the existence of a peculiar
practical form, it is easy to understand why it has so often been
maintained against the intellectual and theoretical exclusivists, that
the will consists, not of knowledge, but of feeling; that the principle
of action, far from being an intellectual principle, is sentimental
emotion; that in order to produce a volition, reason, ideas, and facts
perceived do not suffice, but that it is necessary that all these
things be transformed into feelings, which must take possession of the
soul; that the base of life lived, that is, of practical life, is not
thought, but feeling, and so on. With these formulæ was recognized
the peculiarity of the practical activity. The theory of feeling in
respect of the practical represents progress as compared with the
intellectualistic theory, because the appearance of indeterminateness
is progress as compared with bad determinateness, and contains in
itself the new and more complete determinateness.
[Sidenote: _Negation of feeling._]
But in this very way of ours of understanding the value of these
formulæ, is implied their resolute negation, when they tend to
persist, after having accomplished their function, and to maintain
side by side with the theory of the practical a third general form
of the spirit, namely feeling. No spiritual fact or manifestation of
activity can be adduced, which, examined without superficiality, is
not reducible to an act of fancy, intellect and perception, that is,
of theory (when it is not at once revealed as an abstraction or as a
merely psychological class of these acts); or to an act of utilitarian
or ethical volition (when it is not here too a psychological class,
variously designated as aspirations, passions, affections, and the
like). Let him who will search his spirit and attempt to indicate one
single act, differing from the above, as something new and original and
deserving of the special denomination of feeling.
[Sidenote: _Its deductive exclusion._]
This constatation of fact (we repeat the warning) is but the first
step in the complete philosophical demonstration, which demands that
we show not only that a third form does not exist, but that _it cannot
exist._ This demonstration will be given further on, and will coincide
with that of the demonstration of the necessity of the two forms,
theoretical and practical; a duality that is unity and a unity that is
duality. Recognizing the legitimacy of the demand for a philosophical
deduction of the forms of the spirit, and therefore of a deductive
exclusion of those that are spurious and wrongly adopted, it seems that
if it be somewhat delayed, such a mode of exclusion will also yield
clearer results.
III
RELATION OF THE PRACTICAL TO THE THEORETIC ACTIVITY
[Sidenote: _Precedence of the theoretical activity._]
Freed from the equivocal third term, which is feeling, and now passing
to the problem of the relation between the theoretical and the
practical activity enunciated, we must in the first place declare the
thesis that _the practical activity presupposes the theoretical._ Will
is impossible without knowledge; as is knowledge, so is will.
[Sidenote: _The unity of the spirit and the co-presence of the
practical._]
In recognizing this precedence of knowledge to will, we do not wish to
posit as thinkable a theoretical man or a theoretical moment altogether
deprived of will. This would be an unreal abstraction, inadmissible
in philosophy, which operates solely with real abstractions, that is,
with universal concretes. The forms of the spirit are distinct and
not separate, rand when the spirit is found in one of its forms, or
is _explicit_ in it, the other forms are also in it, but _implicit,_
or, as is also said, _concomitant._ If theoretical and cognoscitive
man were not at the same time volitional, he would not even be able to
stand on his feet and look at the sky, and, literally speaking, if he
were not alive, he would not be able to think (and thinking is both
an act of life and an act of will, which is called _attention)._ Were
he not to will, he would be unable to pass from waking to sleep and
from sleep to waking. Thus in order to be purely theoretical, it is
necessary to be at the same time in some degree practical; the energy
of pure fancy and of pure thought springs from the trunk of volition.
Hence the importance of the will for the æsthetic and intellectual
life; the will is not theory, nor is it the force that makes grain to
grow or guides the course of rivers, but as it assists the culture of
grain or restrains the destructive impetus of rivers, so it assists and
restrains the force of fancy and of thought, causing them to act in
the best way, that is, to be as they really ought to be, namely, fancy
and thought in their purest manifestation. The practical activity,
therefore, acts in this way, and as it drags the man of science from
his study and the artist from his studio, if it be necessary to defend
his country or to watch at the bedside of his sick father, so it
commands the artist and the man of science to fulfil their special
mission and to be themselves in an eminent degree.
[Sidenote: _Critique of pragmatism._]
All the arguments that have been used in the past and that are used in
the present, to maintain the dependence of the theoretical upon the
practical activity, are of value for what of truth they contain, that
is, only to demonstrate this unity of the spiritual functions that
we have recognized, and the indispensability of the volitional force
for the health of the cognoscitive spirit. But the passage from this
thesis to the other, that the true is the production of the will, is
nothing but a sophism, founded on the double signification of the word
"production." It should be clear that to _assist_ the work of thought
with the will is one thing and that to _substitute_ the will for the
work of thought is another. To claim to substitute the will for the
work of thought, is equivalent to the negation of that force that
should be assisted; it is the most open proclamation of scepticism,
the most complete distrust of the true and of the possibility of
attaining to it. This attempt is now called _pragmatism,_ or is at
any rate one of the meanings of the word, with which the school of
the greatest confusion that has ever appeared in philosophy adorns
itself in our day. This school mixes together the most divergent
theses--that of the stimulating effect that the will has upon thought,
that other of the volitional or arbitrary moment, by means of which
perceptions and historical data are reduced to abstract types in the
natural disciplines, or postulates laid down for the construction
of mathematical classes. The third form, which might be called the
Baconian prejudice, maintains the exclusive utility of the natural
sciences and mathematics for the well-being of life. The fourth
thesis is positivistic: here it is maintained that we cannot know
anything save what we ourselves arbitrarily compress into the formula
and classes of mathematics and of naturalism. The fifth thesis is
a romantic exaggeration of the principle of creative power in man,
substituting the caprice of the individual for the universal spirit.
The sixth, something between silliness and Jesuistry, recommends
the utility of making one's illusions and believing them to be
true. The seventh is superstitious, occultist and spiritistic--and
there are others that we omit. If pragmatism has had and preserves
any attraction, it owes this to the truth of its first and second
theses and to the half truth of the fifth. All the three are however
heterogeneous in themselves and unreconcilable with the others, which
are most fallacious. But we repeat with the old philosophers that
whoever in thinking says, "Thus I will it," is lost for truth.
[Sidenote: _Critique of psychological objections._]
Certain reservations that are made to the above truth from the point
of view of that philosophy, which we have called psychological, are
scarcely deserving of brief mention. We find in treatises of Psychology
that knowledge does precede the practical act, but only in the higher
forms of volition, whereas in its lower forms are found only impulses,
tendencies, appetites, altogether blind of any knowledge. Thus they
are able to talk of involuntary forms of the practical activity, of
a will that is not a will, when once the true will has been defined,
as precisely appetition illumined by previous knowledge. The _blind
will_ of certain metaphysicians is derived from such excogitations of
psychologists, who make of it a practical act without intelligence.
They have here attributed the value of reality to a crude concept of
class, a thing that happens not infrequently. A blind will is however
unthinkable. Every form of the practical activity, be it as poor and
rudimentary as you like (and let as many classes and gradations as you
will be formed), presupposes knowledge of some sort. In animals too?
will be asked. In animals too, provided they be, and in so far as they
are centres of life, and so of perceptions and of will. This is also
true of vegetables and of minerals, always with the above hypothesis.
We must banish every form of _aristocracy_ from the Philosophy of the
practical, as we have banished it from Æsthetic, from Logic, from
Historic, esteeming it most harmful to the proper understanding of
those activities. The aristocratic illusion is closely allied to that
one which makes us believe that we, shut up in the egotism of our
empirical individuality, are alone aware of the truth, that we alone
feel the beautiful, that we alone know how to love, and so on. But
reality is democratic.
From the psychological point of view yet another objection has been
raised. Knowledge (it is affirmed) cannot be the indispensable base of
the will, if, as is the case, the ignorant are often far more effective
than many learned men and philosophers. These latter, they say,
although possessing very great knowledge, and no less a stock of good
intentions, yet do not know how to direct their lives successfully.
But it is evident that in these cases the so-called ignorant possess
just that knowledge which is necessary for the purpose and is lacking
to the learned and to the philosopher, who would themselves be the
ignorant in such a case. Nicholas Macchiavelli was ignorant as compared
with Giovanni dalle Bande Nere, when he kept the spectators waiting two
hours in the sun, while he was attempting to dispose three thousand
infantry according to the directions that he had written. This he would
never have succeeded in doing, had not Signor Giovanni, with the help
of drummers and in the twinkling of an eye caused them to execute the
various manœuvres and afterwards carried Master Nicholas to dine, who,
save for him, would not have dined at all that day.[1]
[Sidenote: _Nature of the theoretical precedence of the practical:
historical knowledge._]
The knowledge required for the practical act is not that of the artist,
nor of the philosopher, or rather, it is these two also, but only in so
far as both are to be found as elements co-operating in that ultimate
and complete knowledge which is _historical._ If the first be called
intuition, the second concept, and the third perception, and the third
be looked upon as the result of the two preceding, it will be said
that the knowledge required for the practical act is _perceptive._
Hence the common saying that praises the sure eye of the practical man;
hence, too, the close bond between historical sense and practical and
political sense; hence, too, the justifiable diffidence of those who,
unable to grasp effectual reality, hope to attain to it by force of
mere syllogisms and abstractions, or believe that they have attained to
it, when they have erected an imaginary edifice. They prove by so doing
that they can never be practical men, at least in the sphere of action
at which they are then aiming.
Such knowledge is not of itself the practical act. The historian as
such is a contemplative, not a practical man or politician. If that
spark which is volition, do not spring forth, the material of knowledge
does not catch fire and is not transformed into the material of the
practical. But that knowledge is the condition, and if the condition
be not the conditioned, yet one cannot have the conditioned without
the condition. In this last signification, it is true that action
is knowledge, will, and wisdom, that is to say, in the sense that
willing and acting presuppose knowledge and wisdom. In this sense, and
considered solely in the stage of the cognoscitive investigation which
will form the base of action, the deliberation is a theoretical fact.
The customary expressions of logical, rational, judicious actions,
are metaphors, because action may be weak or energetic, coherent or
incoherent; but it will not have those predicates which are proper to
theoretical acts that precede actions, on which the metaphors aforesaid
are founded. As are these acts, so originate the practical act, will,
and action. We can act in so far as we have knowledge. Volition is not
the surrounding world which the spirit perceives; it is a beginning,
a new fact. But this fact has its roots in the surrounding world,
this beginning is irradiated with the colours of things that man has
perceived as a theoretical spirit, before he took action as a practical
spirit.
[Sidenote: _Its continual changeability._]
It is important to observe, as much to prevent an equivoke into which
many fall, as because of the consequences that will follow from holding
it, that we must not look upon the perceptive knowledge of reality
that surrounds us as a firm basis, upon which we act, by translating
the formed volition into act. For were this so, we should have to
assume that the surrounding world, perceived by the spirit, stops after
the perceptive act, which is not the case. That world changes every
second, the perceptive act perceives the new and the different, and the
volitional act changes according to that real and perceived change.
Perception and volition alternate every instant; in order to will, we
must touch the earth at every instant, in order to resume force and
direction.
[Sidenote: _No other theoretic precedent._]
Continuous perception and continuous change, that is the necessary
theoretic condition of volition. It is necessary and unique. No other
theoretical element is needed, because every other is contained in it,
and beyond it no other is thinkable.
[Sidenote: _Critique of concepts and practical judgments._]
But if this be true and no other theoretic element save that precede
the volition, then we find in the aforesaid theory the criticism of a
series of other theories, generally admitted in the Philosophy of the
practical, not less than in ordinary thought, none of which can be
retained without alterations and corrections.
Or better, there are not so many various theories to criticize; there
is rather one theory, which presents itself under different aspects and
assumes various names. This theory consists substantially in affirming
that with the complex of cognitions, of which we have hitherto treated
(all of which are summed up in the historical judgment), we do not
yet possess that one which is necessary, before we can proceed to
volition and action. A special form of concepts and judgments which
can be called _practical,_ must, it is said, appear; these render
the will possible, by interposing themselves between the previous
merely historical judgment and the will. Is it not indubitable that we
possess practical concepts, that is, concepts of classes of action or
of supreme guides to action, concepts of things _good, of ideals, of
ends,_ and that we effect _judgments_ of value by the application of
those concepts to the image of given actions? Is it not indubitable
that those judgments and those concepts refer, not to the simple
present fact, but to the future? How could we will, if we did not know
what is good to will, and that a given possible action corresponds to
that concept of good?
[Sidenote: _Posteriority of judgments to the practical act._]