itself it has nothing but the empty forms of its operation. There is no
absolutely pure rational knowledge except the four principles to which I
have attributed metalogical truth; the principles of identity,
contradiction, excluded middle, and sufficient reason of knowledge. For
even the rest of logic is not absolutely pure rational knowledge. It
presupposes the relations and the combinations of the spheres of concepts.
But concepts in general only exist after experience of ideas of
perception, and as their whole nature consists in their relation to these,
it is clear that they presuppose them. No special content, however, is
presupposed, but merely the existence of a content generally, and so logic
as a whole may fairly pass for pure rational science. In all other
sciences reason has received its content from ideas of perception; in
mathematics from the relations of space and time, presented in intuition
or perception prior to all experience; in pure natural science, that is,
in what we know of the course of nature prior to any experience, the
content of the science proceeds from the pure understanding, _i.e._, from
the _a priori_ knowledge of the law of causality and its connection with
those pure intuitions or perceptions of space and time. In all other
sciences everything that is not derived from the sources we have just
referred to belongs to experience. Speaking generally, _to know
rationally_ (_wissen_) means to have in the power of the mind, and capable
of being reproduced at will, such judgments as have their sufficient
ground of knowledge in something outside themselves, _i.e._, are true.
Thus only abstract cognition is _rational knowledge_ (_wissen_), which is
therefore the result of reason, so that we cannot accurately say of the
lower animals that they _rationally __ know_ (_wissen_) anything, although
they have apprehension of what is presented in perception, and memory of
this, and consequently imagination, which is further proved by the
circumstance that they dream. We attribute consciousness to them, and
therefore although the word (_bewusstsein_) is derived from the verb to
know rationally (_wissen_), the conception of consciousness corresponds
generally with that of idea of whatever kind it may be. Thus we attribute
life to plants, but not consciousness. _Rational knowledge_ (_wissen_) is
therefore abstract consciousness, the permanent possession in concepts of
the reason, of what has become known in another way.
§ 11. In this regard the direct opposite of _rational knowledge_ is
feeling, and therefore we must insert the explanation of feeling here. The
concept which the word feeling denotes has merely a negative content,
which is this, that something which is present in consciousness, _is not a
concept_, _is not abstract rational knowledge_. Except this, whatever it
may be, it comes under the concept of _feeling_. Thus the immeasurably
wide sphere of the concept of feeling includes the most different kinds of
objects, and no one can ever understand how they come together until he
has recognised that they all agree in this negative respect, that they are
not _abstract concepts_. For the most diverse and even antagonistic
elements lie quietly side by side in this concept; for example, religious
feeling, feeling of sensual pleasure, moral feeling, bodily feeling, as
touch, pain, sense of colour, of sounds and their harmonies and discords,
feeling of hate, of disgust, of self-satisfaction, of honour, of disgrace,
of right, of wrong, sense of truth, æsthetic feeling, feeling of power,
weakness, health, friendship, love, &c. &c. There is absolutely nothing in
common among them except the negative quality that they are not abstract
rational knowledge. But this diversity becomes more striking when the
apprehension of space relations presented _a priori_ in perception, and
also the knowledge of the pure understanding is brought under this
concept, and when we say of all knowledge and all truth, of which we are
first conscious only intuitively, and have not yet formulated in abstract
concepts, we _feel_ it. I should like, for the sake of illustration, to
give some examples of this taken from recent books, as they are striking
proofs of my theory. I remember reading in the introduction to a German
translation of Euclid, that we ought to make beginners in geometry draw
the figures before proceeding to demonstrate, for in this way they would
already feel geometrical truth before the demonstration brought them
complete knowledge. In the same way Schleiermacher speaks in his “Critique
of Ethics” of logical and mathematical feeling (p. 339), and also of the
feeling of the sameness or difference of two formulas (p. 342). Again
Tennemann in his “History of Philosophy” (vol. I., p. 361) says, “One
_felt_ that the fallacies were not right, but could not point out the
mistakes.” Now, so long as we do not regard this concept “_feeling_” from
the right point of view, and do not recognise that one negative
characteristic which alone is essential to it, it must constantly give
occasion for misunderstanding and controversy, on account of the excessive
wideness of its sphere, and its entirely negative and very limited content
which is determined in a purely one-sided manner. Since then we have in
German the nearly synonymous word _empfindung_ (sensation), it would be
convenient to make use of it for bodily feeling, as a sub-species. This
concept “feeling,” which is quite out of proportion to all others,
doubtless originated in the following manner. All concepts, and concepts
alone, are denoted by words; they exist only for the reason, and proceed
from it. With concepts, therefore, we are already at a one-sided point of
view; but from such a point of view what is near appears distinct and is
set down as positive, what is farther off becomes mixed up and is soon
regarded as merely negative. Thus each nation calls all others foreign: to
the Greek all others are barbarians; to the Englishman all that is not
England or English is continent or continental; to the believer all others
are heretics, or heathens; to the noble all others are _roturiers_; to the
student all others are Philistines, and so forth. Now, reason itself,
strange as it may seem, is guilty of the same one-sidedness, indeed one
might say of the same crude ignorance arising from vanity, for it classes
under the one concept, “_feeling_,” every modification of consciousness
which does not immediately belong to its own mode of apprehension, that is
to say, which is _not an abstract concept_. It has had to pay the penalty
of this hitherto in misunderstanding and confusion in its own province,
because its own procedure had not become clear to it through thorough
self-knowledge, for a special faculty of feeling has been set up, and new
theories of it are constructed.
§ 12. _Rational knowledge_ (_wissen_) is then all abstract knowledge,—that
is, the knowledge which is peculiar to the reason as distinguished from
the understanding. Its contradictory opposite has just been explained to
be the concept “feeling.” Now, as reason only reproduces, for knowledge,
what has been received in another way, it does not actually extend our
knowledge, but only gives it another form. It enables us to know in the
abstract and generally, what first became known in sense-perception, in
the concrete. But this is much more important than it appears at first
sight when so expressed. For it depends entirely upon the fact that
knowledge has become rational or abstract knowledge (_wissen_), that it
can be safely preserved, that it is communicable and susceptible of
certain and wide-reaching application to practice. Knowledge in the form
of sense-perception is valid only of the particular case, extends only to
what is nearest, and ends with it, for sensibility and understanding can
only comprehend one object at a time. Every enduring, arranged, and
planned activity must therefore proceed from principles,—that is, from
abstract knowledge, and it must be conducted in accordance with them.
Thus, for example, the knowledge of the relation of cause and effect
arrived at by the understanding, is in itself far completer, deeper and
more exhaustive than anything that can be thought about it in the
abstract; the understanding alone knows in perception directly and
completely the nature of the effect of a lever, of a pulley, or a
cog-wheel, the stability of an arch, and so forth. But on account of the
peculiarity of the knowledge of perception just referred to, that it only
extends to what is immediately present, the mere understanding can never
enable us to construct machines and buildings. Here reason must come in;
it must substitute abstract concepts for ideas of perception, and take
them as the guide of action; and if they are right, the anticipated result
will happen. In the same way we have perfect knowledge in pure perception
of the nature and constitution of the parabola, hyperbola, and spiral; but
if we are to make trustworthy application of this knowledge to the real,
it must first become abstract knowledge, and by this it certainly loses
its character of intuition or perception, but on the other hand it gains
the certainty and preciseness of abstract knowledge. The differential
calculus does not really extend our knowledge of the curve, it contains
nothing that was not already in the mere pure perception of the curve; but
it alters the kind of knowledge, it changes the intuitive into an abstract
knowledge, which is so valuable for application. But here we must refer to
another peculiarity of our faculty of knowledge, which could not be
observed until the distinction between the knowledge of the senses and
understanding and abstract knowledge had been made quite clear. It is
this, that relations of space cannot as such be directly translated into
abstract knowledge, but only temporal quantities,—that is, numbers, are
suitable for this. Numbers alone can be expressed in abstract concepts
which accurately correspond to them, not spacial quantities. The concept
“thousand” is just as different from the concept “ten,” as both these
temporal quantities are in perception. We think of a thousand as a
distinct multiple of ten, into which we can resolve it at pleasure for
perception in time,—that is to say, we can count it. But between the
abstract concept of a mile and that of a foot, apart from any concrete
perception of either, and without the help of number, there is no accurate
distinction corresponding to the quantities themselves. In both we only
think of a spacial quantity in general, and if they must be completely
distinguished we are compelled either to call in the assistance of
intuition or perception in space, which would be a departure from abstract
knowledge, or we must think the difference in _numbers_. If then we wish
to have abstract knowledge of space-relations we must first translate them
into time-relations,—that is, into numbers; therefore only arithmetic, and
not geometry, is the universal science of quantity, and geometry must be
translated into arithmetic if it is to be communicable, accurately precise
and applicable in practice. It is true that a space-relation as such may
also be thought in the abstract; for example, “the sine increases as the
angle,” but if the quantity of this relation is to be given, it requires
number for its expression. This necessity, that if we wish to have
abstract knowledge of space-relations (_i.e._, rational knowledge, not
mere intuition or perception), space with its three dimensions must be
translated into time which has only one dimension, this necessity it is,
which makes mathematics so difficult. This becomes very clear if we
compare the perception of curves with their analytical calculation, or the
table of logarithms of the trigonometrical functions with the perception
of the changing relations of the parts of a triangle, which are expressed
by them. What vast mazes of figures, what laborious calculations it would
require to express in the abstract what perception here apprehends at a
glance completely and with perfect accuracy, namely, how the co-sine
diminishes as the sine increases, how the co-sine of one angle is the sine
of another, the inverse relation of the increase and decrease of the two
angles, and so forth. How time, we might say, must complain, that with its
one dimension it should be compelled to express the three dimensions of
space! Yet this is necessary if we wish to possess, for application, an
expression, in abstract concepts, of space-relations. They could not be
translated directly into abstract concepts, but only through the medium of
the pure temporal quantity, number, which alone is directly related to
abstract knowledge. Yet it is worthy of remark, that as space adapts
itself so well to perception, and by means of its three dimensions, even
its complicated relations are easily apprehended, while it eludes the
grasp of abstract knowledge; time, on the contrary, passes easily into
abstract knowledge, but gives very little to perception. Our perceptions
of numbers in their proper element, mere time, without the help of space,
scarcely extends as far as ten, and beyond that we have only abstract
concepts of numbers, no knowledge of them which can be presented in
perception. On the other hand, we connect with every numeral, and with all
algebraical symbols, accurately defined abstract concepts.
We may further remark here that some minds only find full satisfaction in
what is known through perception. What they seek is the reason and
consequent of being in space, sensuously expressed; a demonstration after
the manner of Euclid, or an arithmetical solution of spacial problems,
does not please them. Other minds, on the contrary, seek merely the
abstract concepts which are needful for applying and communicating
knowledge. They have patience and memory for abstract principles,
formulas, demonstrations in long trains of reasoning, and calculations, in
which the symbols represent the most complicated abstractions. The latter
seek preciseness, the former sensible perception. The difference is
characteristic.
The greatest value of rational or abstract knowledge is that it can be
communicated and permanently retained. It is principally on this account
that it is so inestimably important for practice. Any one may have a
direct perceptive knowledge through the understanding alone, of the causal
connection, of the changes and motions of natural bodies, and he may find
entire satisfaction in it; but he cannot communicate this knowledge to
others until it has been made permanent for thought in concepts. Knowledge
of the first kind is even sufficient for practice, if a man puts his
knowledge into practice himself, in an action which can be accomplished
while the perception is still vivid; but it is not sufficient if the help
of others is required, or even if the action is his own but must be
carried out at different times, and therefore requires a pre-conceived
plan. Thus, for example, a practised billiard-player may have a perfect
knowledge of the laws of the impact of elastic bodies upon each other,
merely in the understanding, merely for direct perception; and for him it
is quite sufficient; but on the other hand it is only the man who has
studied the science of mechanics, who has, properly speaking, a rational
knowledge of these laws, that is, a knowledge of them in the abstract.
Such knowledge of the understanding in perception is sufficient even for
the construction of machines, when the inventor of the machine executes
the work himself; as we often see in the case of talented workmen, who
have no scientific knowledge. But whenever a number of men, and their
united action taking place at different times, is required for the
completion of a mechanical work, of a machine, or a building, then he who
conducts it must have thought out the plan in the abstract, and such
co-operative activity is only possible through the assistance of reason.
It is, however, remarkable that in the first kind of activity, in which we
have supposed that one man alone, in an uninterrupted course of action,
accomplishes something, abstract knowledge, the application of reason or
reflection, may often be a hindrance to him; for example, in the case of
billiard-playing, of fighting, of tuning an instrument, or in the case of
singing. Here perceptive knowledge must directly guide action; its passage
through reflection makes it uncertain, for it divides the attention and
confuses the man. Thus savages and untaught men, who are little accustomed
to think, perform certain physical exercises, fight with beasts, shoot
with bows and arrows and the like, with a certainty and rapidity which the
reflecting European never attains to, just because his deliberation makes
him hesitate and delay. For he tries, for example, to hit the right
position or the right point of time, by finding out the mean between two
false extremes; while the savage hits it directly without thinking of the
false courses open to him. In the same way it is of no use to me to know
in the abstract the exact angle, in degrees and minutes, at which I must
apply a razor, if I do not know it intuitively, that is, if I have not got
it in my touch. The knowledge of physiognomy also, is interfered with by
the application of reason. This knowledge must be gained directly through
the understanding. We say that the expression, the meaning of the
features, can only be _felt_, that is, it cannot be put into abstract
concepts. Every man has his direct intuitive method of physiognomy and
pathognomy, yet one man understands more clearly than another these
_signatura rerum_. But an abstract science of physiognomy to be taught and
learned is not possible; for the distinctions of difference are here so
fine that concepts cannot reach them; therefore abstract knowledge is
related to them as a mosaic is to a painting by a Van der Werft or a
Denner. In mosaics, however fine they may be, the limits of the stones are
always there, and therefore no continuous passage from one colour to
another is possible, and this is also the case with regard to concepts,
with their rigidity and sharp delineation; however finely we may divide
them by exact definition, they are still incapable of reaching the finer
modifications of the perceptible, and this is just what happens in the
example we have taken, knowledge of physiognomy.(16)
This quality of concepts by which they resemble the stones of a mosaic,
and on account of which perception always remains their asymptote, is also
the reason why nothing good is produced in art by their means. If the
singer or the virtuoso attempts to guide his execution by reflection he
remains silent. And this is equally true of the composer, the painter, and
the poet. The concept always remains unfruitful in art; it can only direct
the technical part of it, its sphere is science. We shall consider more
fully in the third book, why all true art proceeds from sensuous
knowledge, never from the concept. Indeed, with regard to behaviour also,
and personal agreeableness in society, the concept has only a negative
value in restraining the grosser manifestations of egotism and brutality;
so that a polished manner is its commendable production. But all that is
attractive, gracious, charming in behaviour, all affectionateness and
friendliness, must not proceed from the concepts, for if it does, “we feel
intention, and are put out of tune.” All dissimulation is the work of
reflection; but it cannot be maintained constantly and without
interruption: “_nemo __ potest personam diu ferre fictum_,” says Seneca in
his book _de clementia_; and so it is generally found out and loses its
effect. Reason is needed in the full stress of life, where quick
conclusions, bold action, rapid and sure comprehension are required, but
it may easily spoil all if it gains the upper hand, and by perplexing
hinders the intuitive, direct discovery, and grasp of the right by simple
understanding, and thus induces irresolution.
Lastly, virtue and holiness do not proceed from reflection, but from the
inner depths of the will, and its relation to knowledge. The exposition of
this belongs to another part of our work; this, however, I may remark
here, that the dogmas relating to ethics may be the same in the reason of
whole nations, but the action of every individual different; and the
converse also holds good; action, we say, is guided by _feelings_,—that
is, simply not by concepts, but as a matter of fact by the ethical
character. Dogmas occupy the idle reason; but action in the end pursues
its own course independently of them, generally not according to abstract
rules, but according to unspoken maxims, the expression of which is the
whole man himself. Therefore, however different the religious dogmas of
nations may be, yet in the case of all of them, a good action is
accompanied by unspeakable satisfaction, and a bad action by endless
remorse. No mockery can shake the former; no priest’s absolution can
deliver from the latter. Notwithstanding this, we must allow, that for the
pursuit of a virtuous life, the application of reason is needful; only it
is not its source, but has the subordinate function of preserving
resolutions which have been made, of providing maxims to withstand the
weakness of the moment, and give consistency to action. It plays the same
part ultimately in art also, where it has just as little to do with the
essential matter, but assists in carrying it out, for genius is not always
at call, and yet the work must be completed in all its parts and rounded
off to a whole.(17)
§ 13. All these discussions of the advantages and disadvantages of the
application of reason are intended to show, that although abstract
rational knowledge is the reflex of ideas of perception, and is founded on
them, it is by no means in such entire congruity with them that it could
everywhere take their place: indeed it never corresponds to them quite
accurately. And thus, as we have seen, many human actions can only be
performed by the help of reason and deliberation, and yet there are some
which are better performed without its assistance. This very incongruity
of sensuous and abstract knowledge, on account of which the latter always
merely approximates to the former, as mosaic approximates to painting, is
the cause of a very remarkable phenomenon which, like reason itself, is
peculiar to human nature, and of which the explanations that have ever
anew been attempted, are insufficient: I mean _laughter_. On account of
the source of this phenomenon, we cannot avoid giving the explanation of
it here, though it again interrupts the course of our work to do so. The
cause of laughter in every case is simply the sudden perception of the
incongruity between a concept and the real objects which have been thought
through it in some relation, and laughter itself is just the expression of
this incongruity. It often occurs in this way: two or more real objects
are thought through _one_ concept, and the identity of the concept is
transferred to the objects; it then becomes strikingly apparent from the
entire difference of the objects in other respects, that the concept was
only applicable to them from a one-sided point of view. It occurs just as
often, however, that the incongruity between a single real object and the
concept under which, from one point of view, it has rightly been subsumed,
is suddenly felt. Now the more correct the subsumption of such objects
under a concept may be from one point of view, and the greater and more
glaring their incongruity with it, from another point of view, the greater
is the ludicrous effect which is produced by this contrast. All laughter
then is occasioned by a paradox, and therefore by unexpected subsumption,
whether this is expressed in words or in actions. This, briefly stated, is
the true explanation of the ludicrous.