SECOND ATTITUDE OF THOUGHT TO OBJECTIVITY.
I. _Empiricism._
37.] Under these circumstances a double want began to be felt. Partly
it was the need of a concrete subject-matter, as a counterpoise to the
abstract theories of the understanding, which is unable to advance
unaided from its generalities to specialisation and determination.
Partly, too, it was the demand for something fixed and secure, so as
to exclude the possibility of proving anything and everything in the
sphere, and according to the method, of the finite formulae of thought.
Such was the genesis of Empirical philosophy, which abandons the search
for truth in thought itself, and goes to fetch it from Experience, the
outward and the inward present.
The rise of Empiricism is due to the need thus stated of concrete
contents, and a firm footing--needs which the abstract metaphysic of
the understanding failed to satisfy. Now by concreteness of contents
it is meant that we must know the objects of consciousness as
intrinsically determinate and as the unity of distinct characteristics.
But, as we have already seen, this is by no means the case with the
metaphysic of understanding, if it conform to its principle. With the
mere understanding, thinking is limited to the form of an abstract
universal, and can never advance to the particularisation of this
universal. Thus we find the metaphysicians engaged in an attempt to
elicit by the instrumentality of thought, what was the essence or
fundamental attribute of the Soul The Soul, they said, is simple.
The simplicity thus ascribed to the Soul meant a mere and utter
simplicity, from which difference is excluded: difference, or in other
words composition, being made the fundamental attribute of body, or
of matter in general. Clearly, in simplicity of this narrow type we
have a very shallow category, quite incapable of embracing the wealth
of the soul or of the mind. When it thus appeared that abstract
metaphysical thinking was inadequate, it was felt that resource must be
had to empirical psychology. The same happened in the case of Rational
Physics. The current phrases there were, for instance, that space is
infinite, that Nature makes no leap, &c. Evidently this phraseology was
wholly unsatisfactory in presence of the plenitude and life of nature.
38.] To some extent this source from which Empiricism draws is common
to it with metaphysic. It is in our materialised conceptions, _i.e._
in facts which emanate, in the first instance, from experience,
that metaphysic also finds the guarantee for the correctness of its
definitions (including both its initial assumptions and its more
detailed body of doctrine). But, on the other hand, it must be noted
that the single sensation is not the same thing as experience, and
that the Empirical School elevates the facts included under sensation,
feeling, and perception into the form of general ideas, propositions or
laws. This, however, it does with the reservation that these general
principles (such as force), are to have no further import or validity
of their own beyond that taken from the sense-impression, and that
no connexion shall be deemed legitimate except what can be shown to
exist in phenomena. And on the subjective side Empirical cognition has
its stable footing in the fact that in a sensation consciousness is
directly present and certain of itself.
In Empiricism lies the great principle that whatever is true must
be in the actual world and present to sensation. This principle
contradicts that 'ought to be' on the strength of which 'reflection'
is vain enough to treat the actual present with scorn and to point to
a scene beyond--a scene which is assumed to have place and being only
in the understanding of those who talk of it. No less than Empiricism,
philosophy (§ 7) recognises only what is, and has nothing to do with
what merely ought to be and what is thus confessed not to exist. On the
subjective side, too, it is right to notice the valuable principle of
freedom involved in Empiricism. For the main lesson of Empiricism is
that man must see for himself and feel that he is present in every fact
of knowledge which he has to accept.
When it is carried out to its legitimate consequences,
Empiricism--being in its facts limited to the finite sphere--denies the
super-sensible in general, or at least any knowledge of it which would
define its nature; it leaves thought no powers except abstraction and
formal universality and identity. But there is a fundamental delusion
in all scientific empiricism. It employs the metaphysical categories of
matter, force, those of one, many, generality, infinity, &c.; following
the clue given by these categories it proceeds to draw conclusions, and
in so doing pre-supposes and applies the syllogistic form. And all the
while it is unaware that it contains metaphysics--in wielding which, it
makes use of those categories and their combinations in a style utterly
thoughtless and uncritical.
* * * * *
From Empiricism came the cry: 'Stop roaming in empty abstractions, keep
your eyes open, lay hold on man and nature as they are here before
you, enjoy the present moment.' Nobody can deny that there is a good
deal of truth in these words. The every-day world, what is here and
now, was a good exchange for the futile other-world--for the mirages
and the chimeras of the abstract understanding. And thus was acquired
an infinite principle,--that solid footing so much missed in the old
metaphysic. Finite principles are the most that the understanding
can pick out--and these being essentially unstable and tottering,
the structure they supported must collapse with a crash. Always the
instinct of reason was to find an infinite principle. As yet, the
time had not come for finding it in thought. Hence, this instinct
seized upon the present, the Here, the This,--where doubtless there is
implicit infinite form, but not in the genuine existence of that form.
The external world is the truth, if it could but know it: for the truth
is actual and must exist. The infinite principle, the self-centred
truth, therefore, is in the world for reason to discover: though it
exists in an individual and sensible shape, and not in its truth.
Besides, this school makes sense-perception the form in which fact
is to be apprehended: and in this consists the defect of Empiricism.
Sense-perception as such is always individual, always transient: not
indeed that the process of knowledge stops short at sensation: on the
contrary, it proceeds to find out the universal and permanent element
in the individual apprehended by sense. This is the process leading
from simple perception to experience.
In order to form experiences, Empiricism makes especial use of the
form of Analysis. In the impression of sense we have a concrete of
many elements, the several attributes of which we are expected to
peel off one by one, like the coats of an onion. In thus dismembering
the thing, it is understood that we disintegrate and take to pieces
these attributes which have coalesced, and add nothing but our own
act of disintegration. Yet analysis is the process from the immediacy
of sensation to thought: those attributes, which the object analysed
contains in union, acquire the form of universality by being separated.
Empiricism therefore labours under a delusion, if it supposes that,
while analysing the objects, it leaves them as they were: it really
transforms the concrete into an abstract. And as a consequence of this
change the living thing is killed: life can exist only in the concrete
and one. Not that we can do without this division, if it be our
intention to comprehend. Mind itself is an inherent division. The error
lies in forgetting that this is only one-half of the process, and that
the main point is the re-union of what has been parted. And it is where
analysis never gets beyond the stage of partition that the words of the
poet are true:
_'Encheiresin Naturae_ nennt's die Chemie,
Spottet ihrer Selbst, und weiss nicht, wie:
Hat die Teile in Ihrer Hand
Fehlt leider nur das geistige Band.'
Analysis starts from the concrete; and the possession of this material
gives it a considerable advantage over the abstract thinking of the
old metaphysics. It establishes the differences in things: and this is
very important: but these very differences are nothing after all but
abstract attributes, _e.g._ thoughts. These thoughts, it is assumed,
contain the real essence of the objects; and thus once more we see the
axiom of bygone metaphysics reappear, that the truth of things lies in
thought.
Let us next compare the empirical theory with that of metaphysics in
the matter of their respective contents. We find the latter, as already
stated, taking for its theme the universal objects of the reason, viz.
God, the Soul, and the World: and these themes, accepted from popular
conception, it was the problem of philosophy to reduce into the form
of thoughts. Another specimen of the same method was the Scholastic
philosophy, the theme pre-supposed by which was formed by the dogmas
of the Christian Church: and it aimed at fixing their meaning and
giving them a systematic arrangement through thought.--The facts on
which Empiricism is based are of entirely different kind. They are
the sensible facts of nature and the facts of the finite mind. In
other words, Empiricism deals with a finite material--and the old
metaphysicians had an infinite,--though, let us add, they made this
infinite content finite by the finite form of the understanding. The
same finitude of form reappears in Empiricism--but here the facts are
finite also. To this exigent, then, both modes of philosophising have
the same method; both proceed from data or assumptions, which they
accept as ultimate. Generally speaking, Empiricism finds the truth in
the outward world; and even if it allow a super-sensible world, it
holds knowledge of that world to be impossible, and would restrict us
to the province of sense-perception. This doctrine when systematically
carried out produces what has been latterly termed Materialism.
Materialism of this stamp looks upon matter, _quâ_ matter, as the
genuine objective world. But with matter we are at once introduced
to an abstraction, which as such cannot be perceived: and it may be
maintained that there is no matter, because, as it exists, it is always
something definite and concrete. Yet the abstraction we term matter is
supposed to lie at the basis of the whole world of sense, and expresses
the sense-world in its simplest terms as out-and-out individualisation,
and hence a congeries of points in mutual exclusion. So long then as
this sensible sphere is and continues to be for Empiricism a mere
datum, we have a doctrine of bondage: for we become free, when we
are confronted by no absolutely alien world, but depend upon a fact
which we ourselves are. Consistently with the empirical point of view,
besides, reason and unreason can only be subjective: in other words,
we must take what is given just as it is, and we have no right to ask
whether and to what extent it is rational in its own nature.
39.] Touching this principle it has been justly observed that in
what we call Experience, as distinct from mere single perception of
single facts, there are two elements. The one is the matter, infinite
in its multiplicity, and as it stands a mere set of singulars: the
other is the form, the characteristics of universality and necessity.
Mere experience no doubt offers many, perhaps innumerable cases of
similar perceptions: but, after all, no multitude, however great,
can be the same thing as universality. Similarly, mere experience
affords perceptions of changes succeeding each other and of objects in
juxtaposition; but it presents no necessary connexion. If perception,
therefore, is to maintain its claim to be the sole basis of what
men hold for truth, universality and necessity appear something
illegitimate: they become an accident of our minds, a mere custom, the
content of which might be otherwise constituted than it is.
It is an important corollary of this theory, that on this empirical
mode of treatment legal and ethical principles and laws, as well as the
truths of religion, are exhibited as the work of chance, and stripped
of their objective character and inner truth.
The scepticism of Hume, to which this conclusion was chiefly due,
should be clearly marked off from Greek scepticism. Hume assumes the
truth of the empirical element, feeling and sensation, and proceeds to
challenge universal principles and laws, because they have no warranty
from sense-perception. So far was ancient scepticism from making
feeling and sensation the canon of truth, that it turned against the
deliverances of sense first of all. (On Modern Scepticism as compared
with Ancient, see Schelling and Hegel's Critical Journal of Philosophy:
1802, vol. I. i.)
II. _The Critical Philosophy._
40.] In common with Empiricism the Critical Philosophy assumes that
experience affords the one sole foundation for cognitions; which
however it does not allow to rank as truths, but only as knowledge of
phenomena.
The Critical theory starts originally from the distinction of elements
presented in the analysis of experience, viz. the matter of sense, and
its universal relations. Taking into account Hume's criticism on this
distinction as given in the preceding section, viz. that sensation
does not explicitly apprehend more than an individual or more than a
mere event, it insists at the same time on the _fact_ that universality
and necessity are seen to perform a function equally essential in
constituting what is called experience. This element, not being derived
from the empirical facts as such, must belong to the spontaneity of
thought; in other words, it is _a priori._ The Categories or Notions
of the Understanding constitute the _objectivity_ of experiential
cognitions. In every case they involve a connective reference, and
hence through their means are formed synthetic judgments _a priori,_
that is, primary and underivative connexions of opposites.
Even Hume's scepticism does not deny that the characteristics of
universality and necessity are found in cognition. And even in Kant
this fact remains a presupposition after all; it may be said, to use
the ordinary phraseology of the sciences, that Kant did no more than
offer another _explanation_ of the fact.
41.] The Critical Philosophy proceeds to test the value of the
categories employed in metaphysic, as well as in other sciences
and in ordinary conception. This scrutiny however is not directed
to the content of these categories, nor does it inquire into the
exact relation they bear to one another: but simply considers them
as affected by the contrast between subjective and objective. The
contrast, as we are to understand it here, bears upon the distinction
(see preceding §) of the two elements in experience. The name of
objectivity is here given to the element of universality and necessity,
_i.e._ to the categories themselves, or what is called the _a priori_
constituent. The Critical Philosophy however widened the contrast in
such away, that the subjectivity comes to embrace the _ensemble_ of
experience, including both of the aforesaid elements; and nothing
remains on the other side but the 'thing-in-itself.'
The special forms of the _a priori_ element, in other words, of
thought, which in spite of its objectivity is looked upon as a purely
subjective act, present themselves as follows in a systematic order
which, it may be remarked, is solely based upon psychological and
historical grounds.
* * * * *
(1) A very important step was undoubtedly made, when the terms of the
old metaphysic were subjected to scrutiny. The plain thinker pursued
his unsuspecting way in those categories which had offered themselves
naturally. It never occurred to him to ask to what extent these
categories had a value and authority of their own. If, as has been
said, it is characteristic of free thought to allow no assumptions to
pass unquestioned, the old metaphysicians were not free thinkers. They
accepted their categories as they were, without further trouble, as an
_a priori_ datum, not yet tested by reflection. The Critical philosophy
reversed this. Kant undertook to examine how far the forms of thought
were capable of leading to the knowledge of truth. In particular he
demanded a criticism of the faculty of cognition as preliminary to
its exercise. That is a fair demand, if it mean that even the forms
of thought must be made an object of investigation. Unfortunately
there soon creeps in the misconception of already knowing before _you_
know,--the error of refusing to enter the water until you have learnt
to swim. True, indeed, the forms of thought should be subjected to a
scrutiny before they are used: yet what is this scrutiny but _ipso
facto_ a cognition? So that what we want is to combine in our process
of inquiry the action of the forms of thought with a criticism of
them. The forms of thought must be studied in their essential nature
and complete development: they are at once the object of research and
the action of that object. Hence they examine themselves: in their own
action they must determine their limits, and point out their defects.
This is that action of thought, which will hereafter be specially
considered under the name of Dialectic, and regarding which we need
only at the outset observe that, instead of being brought to bear upon
the categories from without, it is immanent in their own action.
We may therefore state the first point in Kant's philosophy as follows:
Thought must itself investigate its own capacity of knowledge. People
in the present day have got over Kant and his philosophy: everybody
wants to get further. But there are two ways of going further--a
back-, ward and a forward. The light of criticism soon shows that many
of our modern essays in philosophy are mere repetitions of the old
metaphysical method, an endless and uncritical thinking in a groove
determined by the natural bent of each man's mind.
(2) Kant's examination of the categories suffers from the grave defect
of viewing them, not absolutely and for their own sake, but in order to
see whether they are _subjective_ or _objective._ In the language of
common life we mean by objective what exists outside of us and reaches
us from without by means of sensation. What Kant did, was to deny that
the categories, such as cause and effect, were, in this sense of the
word, objective, or given in sensation, and to maintain on the contrary
that they belonged to our own thought itself, to the spontaneity of
thought. To that extent therefore, they were subjective. And yet in
spite of this, Kant gives the name objective to what is thought, to the
universal and necessary, while he describes as subjective whatever is
merely felt. This arrangement apparently reverses the first-mentioned
use of the word, and has caused Kant to be charged with confusing
language. But the charge is unfair if we more narrowly consider the
facts of the case. The vulgar believe that the objects of perception
which confront them, such as an individual animal, or a single star,
are independent and permanent existences, compared with which, thoughts
are unsubstantial and dependent on something else. In fact however
the perceptions of sense are the properly dependent and secondary
feature, while the thoughts are really independent and primary. This
being so, Kant gave the title objective to the intellectual factor, to
the universal and necessary: and he was quite justified in so doing.
Our sensations on the other hand are subjective; for sensations lack
stability in their own nature, and are no less fleeting and evanescent
than thought is permanent and self-subsisting. At the present day, the
special line of distinction established by Kant between the subjective
and objective is adopted by the phraseology of the educated world. Thus
the criticism of a work of art ought, it is said, to be not subjective,
but objective; in other words, instead of springing from the particular
and accidental feeling or temper of the moment, it should keep its eye
on those general points of view which the laws of art establish. In
the same acceptation we can distinguish in any scientific pursuit the
objective and the subjective interest of the investigation.
But after all, objectivity of thought, in Kant's sense, is again to
a certain extent subjective. Thoughts, according to Kant, although
universal and necessary categories, are _only our_ thoughts--separated
by an impassable gulf from the thing, as it exists apart from our
knowledge. But the true, objectivity of thinking means that the
thoughts, far from being merely ours, must at the same time be the real
essence of the things, and of whatever is an object to us.
Objective and subjective are convenient expressions in current use,
the employment of which may easily lead to confusion. Up to this
point, the discussion has shown three meanings of objectivity. First,
it means what has external existence, in distinction from which the
subjective is what is only supposed, dreamed, &c. Secondly, it has
the meaning, attached to it by Kant, of the universal and necessary,
as distinguished from the particular, subjective and occasional
element which belongs to our sensations. Thirdly, as has been just
explained, it means the thought-apprehended essence of the existing
thing, in contradistinction from what is merely _our_ thought, and what
consequently is still separated from the thing itself, as it exists in
independent essence.
42.] (a) The Theoretical Faculty.--Cognition _quâ_ cognition.
The specific ground of the categories is declared by the Critical
system to lie in the primary identity of the 'I' in thought,--what
Kant calls the 'transcendental unity of self-consciousness.'
The impressions from feeling and perception are, if we look to
their contents, a multiplicity or miscellany of elements: and the
multiplicity is equally conspicuous in their form. For sense is marked
by a mutual exclusion of members; and that under two aspects, namely
space and time, which, being the forms, that is to say, the universal
type of perception, are themselves _a priori._ This congeries,
afforded by sensation and perception, must however be reduced to an
identity or primary synthesis. To accomplish this the 'I' brings it in
relation to itself and unites it there in _one_ consciousness which
Kant calls 'pure apperception.' The specific modes in which the Ego
refers to itself the multiplicity of sense are the pure concepts of the
understanding, the Categories.
Kant, it is well known, did not put himself to much trouble in
discovering the categories. 'I,' the unity of self-consciousness,
being quite abstract and completely indeterminate, the question
arises, how are we to get at the specialised forms of the 'I,' the
categories? Fortunately, the common logic offers to our hand an
empirical classification of the kinds of _judgment._ Now, to judge
is the same as to _think_ of a determinate object. Hence the various
modes of judgment, as enumerated to our hand, provide us with the
several categories of thought. To the philosophy of Fichte belongs
the great merit of having called attention to the need of exhibiting
the _necessity_ of these categories and giving a genuine _deduction_
of them. Fichte ought to have produced at least one effect on the
method of logic. One might have expected that the general laws of
thought, the usual stock-in-trade of logicians, or the classification
of notions, judgments, and syllogisms, would be no longer taken merely
from observation and so only empirically treated, but be deduced from
thought itself. If thought is to be capable of proving anything at all,
if logic must insist upon the necessity of proofs, and if it proposes
to teach the theory of demonstration, its first care should be to give
a reason for its own subject-matter, and to see that it is necessary.
(i) Kant therefore holds that the categories have their source in the
'Ego,' and that the 'Ego' consequently supplies the characteristics
of universality and necessity. If we observe what we have before us
primarily, we may describe it as a congeries or diversity: and in the
categories we find the simple points or units, to which this congeries
is made to converge. The world of sense is a scene of mutual exclusion:
its being is outside itself. That is the fundamental feature of the
sensible. 'Now' has no meaning except in reference to a before and a
hereafter. Red, in the same way, only subsists by being opposed to
yellow and blue. Now this other thing is outside the sensible; which
latter is, only in so far as it is not the other, and only in so far
as that other is. But thought, or the 'Ego,' occupies a position the
very reverse of the sensible, with its mutual exclusions, and its
being outside itself. The 'I' is the primary identity--at one with
itself and all at home in itself. The word 'I' expresses the mere act
of bringing-to-bear-upon-self: and whatever is placed in this unit or
focus, is affected _by_ it and transformed into it. The 'I' is as it
were the crucible and the fire which consumes the loose plurality of
sense and reduces it to unity. This is the process which Kant calls
pure apperception in distinction from the common apperception, to
which the plurality it receives is a plurality still; whereas pure
apperception is rather an act by which the 'I' makes the materials
'mine.'
This view has at least the merit of giving a correct expression to the
nature of all consciousness. The tendency of all man's endeavours is to
understand the world, to appropriate and subdue it to himself: and to
this end the positive reality of the world must be as it were crushed
and pounded, in other words, idealised. At the same time we must note
that it is not the mere act of _our_ personal self-consciousness, which
introduces an absolute unity into the variety of sense. Rather, this
identity is itself the absolute. The absolute is, as it were, so kind
as to leave individual things to their own enjoyment, and it again
drives them back to the absolute unity.
(2) Expressions like 'transcendental unity of self-consciousness' have
an ugly look about them, and suggest a monster in the background:
but their meaning is not so abstruse as it looks. Kant's meaning of
transcendental may be gathered by the way he distinguishes it from
transcendent. The _transcendent_ may be said to be what steps out
beyond the categories of the understanding: a sense in which the term
is first employed in mathematics. Thus in geometry you are told to
conceive the circumference of a circle as formed of an infinite number
of infinitely small straight lines. In other words, characteristics
which the understanding holds to be totally different, the straight
line and the curve, are expressly invested with identity. Another
transcendent of the same kind is the self-consciousness which is
identical with itself and infinite in itself, as distinguished from
the ordinary consciousness which derives its form and tone from finite
materials. That unity of self-consciousness, however, Kant called
_transcendental_ only; and he meant thereby that the unity was only in
our minds and did not attach to the objects apart from our knowledge of
them.
(3) To regard the categories as subjective only, _i.e._ as a part
of ourselves, must seem very odd to the natural mind; and no doubt
there is something queer about it. It is quite true however that the
categories are not contained in the sensation as it is given us. When,
for instance, we look at a piece of sugar, we find it is hard, white,
sweet, &c. All these properties we say are united in one object. Now
it is this unity that is not found in the sensation. The same thing
happens if we conceive two events to stand in the relation of cause
and effect. The senses only inform us of the two several occurrences
which follow each other in time. But that the one is cause, the other
effect,--in other words, the causal nexus between the two,--is not
perceived by sense; it is only evident to thought. Still, though the
categories, such as unity, or cause and effect, are strictly the
property of thought, it by no means follows that they must be ours
merely and not also characteristics of the objects. Kant however
confines them to the subject-mind, and his philosophy may be styled
subjective idealism: for he holds that both the form and the matter of
knowledge are supplied by the Ego--or knowing subject--the form by our
intellectual, the matter by our sentient ego.
So far as regards the content of this subjective idealism, not a word
need be wasted. It might perhaps at first sight be imagined, that
objects would lose their reality when their unity was transferred to
the subject. But neither we nor the objects would have anything to gain
by the mere fact that they possessed being. The main point is not,
that they are, but what they are, and whether or not their content
is true. It does no good to the things to say merely that they have
being. What has being, will also cease to be when time creeps over it.
It might also be alleged that subjective idealism tended to promote
self-conceit. But surely if a man's world be the sum of his sensible
perceptions, he has no reason to be vain of such a world. Laying aside
therefore as unimportant this distinction between subjective and
objective, we are chiefly interested in knowing what a thing is: _i.e._
its content, which is no more objective than it is subjective. If mere
existence be enough to make objectivity, even a crime is objective: but
it is an existence which is nullity at the core, as is definitely made
apparent when the day of punishment comes.
43.] The Categories may be viewed in two aspects. On the one hand it
is by their instrumentality that the mere perception of sense rises to
objectivity and experience. On the other hand these notions are unities
in our consciousness merely: they are consequently conditioned by the
material given to them, and having nothing of their own they can be
applied to use only within the range of experience. But the other
constituent of experience, the impressions of feeling and perception,
is not one whit less subjective than the categories.
To assert that the categories taken by themselves are empty can
scarcely be right, seeing that they have a content, at all events, in
the special stamp and significance which they possess. Of course the
content of the categories is not perceptible to the senses, nor is it
in time and space: but that is rather a merit than a defect. A glimpse
of this meaning of _content_ may be observed to affect our ordinary
thinking. _A_ book or a speech for example is said to have a great
deal in it, to be full of content, in proportion to the greater number
of thoughts and general results to be found in it: whilst, on the
contrary, we should never say that any book, _e.g._ novel, had much in
it, because it included a great number of single incidents, situations,
and the like. Even the popular voice thus recognises that something
more than the facts of sense is needed to make a work pregnant with
matter. And what is this additional desideratum but thoughts, or in the
first instance the categories? And yet it is not altogether wrong, it
should be added, to call the categories of themselves empty, if it be
meant that they and the logical Idea, of which they are the members, do
not constitute the whole of philosophy, but necessarily lead onwards in
due progress to the real departments of Nature and Mind. Only let the
progress not be misunderstood. The logical Ideal does not thereby come
into possession of a content originally foreign to it: but by its own
native action is specialised and developed to Nature and Mind.
44.] It follows that the categories are no fit terms to express
the Absolute--the Absolute not being given in perception;--and
Understanding, or knowledge by means of the categories, is consequently
incapable of knowing the Things-in-themselves.
The Thing-in-itself (and under 'thing' is embraced even Mind and God)
expresses the object when we leave out of sight all that consciousness
makes of it, all its emotional aspects, and all specific thoughts
of it. It is easy to see what is left,--utter abstraction, total
emptiness, only described still as an 'other-world'--the negative of
every image, feeling, and definite thought. Nor does it require much
penetration to see that this _caput mortuum_ is still only a product
of thought, such as accrues when thought is carried on to abstraction
unalloyed: that it is the work of the empty 'Ego,' which makes an
object out of this empty self-identity of its own. The _negative_
characteristic which this abstract identity receives as an _object,_ is
also enumerated among the categories of Kant, and is no less familiar
than the empty identity aforesaid. Hence one can only read with
surprise the perpetual remark that we do not know the Thing-in-itself.
On the contrary there is nothing we can know so easily.
45.] It is Reason, the faculty of the Unconditioned, which discovers
the conditioned nature of the knowledge comprised in experience. What
is thus called the object of Reason, the Infinite or Unconditioned,
is nothing but self-sameness, or the primary identity of the 'Ego'
in thought (mentioned in § 42). Reason itself is the name given to
the abstract 'Ego' or thought, which makes this pure identity its aim
or object (cf. note to the preceding §). Now this identity, having
no definite attribute at all, can receive no illumination from the
truths of experience, for the reason that these refer always to
definite facts. Such is the sort of Unconditioned that is supposed to
be the absolute truth of Reason,--what is termed the _Idea;_ whilst
the cognitions of experience are reduced to the level of untruth and
declared to be appearances.
Kant was the first definitely to signalise the distinction between
Reason and Understanding. The object of the former, as he applied the
term, was the infinite and unconditioned, of the latter the finite
and conditioned. Kant did valuable service when he enforced the finite
character of the cognitions of the understanding founded merely upon
experience, and stamped their contents with the name of appearance.
But his mistake was to stop at the purely negative point of view, and
to limit the unconditionality of Reason to an abstract self-sameness
without any shade of distinction. It degrades Reason to a finite and
conditioned thing, to identify it with a mere stepping beyond the
finite and conditioned range of understanding. The real infinite,
far from being a mere transcendence of the finite, always involves
the absorption of the finite into its own fuller nature. In the same
way Kant restored the Idea to its proper dignity: vindicating it for
Reason, as a thing distinct from abstract analytic determinations or
from the merely sensible conceptions which usually appropriate to
themselves the name of ideas. But as respects the Idea also, he never
got beyond its negative aspect, as what ought to be but is not.
The view that the objects of immediate consciousness, which constitute
the body of experience, are mere appearances (phenomena), was another
important result of the Kantian philosophy. Common Sense, that mixture
of sense and understanding, believes the objects of which it has
knowledge to be severally independent and self-supporting; and when
it becomes evident that they tend towards and limit one another, the
interdependence of one upon another is reckoned something foreign to
them and to their true nature. The very opposite is the truth. The
things immediately known are mere appearances--in other words, the
ground of their being is not in themselves but in something else.
But then comes the important step of defining what this something
else is. According to Kant, the things that we know about are _to us_
appearances only, and we can never know their essential nature, which
belongs to another world we cannot approach. Plain minds have not
unreasonably taken exception to this subjective idealism, with its
reduction of the facts of consciousness to a purely personal world,
created by ourselves alone. For the true statement of the case is
rather as follows. The things of which we have direct consciousness
are mere phenomena, not for us only, but in their own nature; and the
true and proper case of these things, finite as they are, is to have
their existence founded not in themselves but in the universal divine
Idea. This view of things, it is true, is as idealist as Kant's;
but in contradistinction to the subjective idealism of the Critical
philosophy should be termed absolute idealism. Absolute idealism,
however, though it is far in advance of vulgar realism, is by no means
merely restricted to philosophy. It lies at the root of all religion;
for religion too believes the actual world we see, the sum total of
existence, to be created and governed by God.
46.] But it is not enough simply to indicate the existence of the
object of Reason. Curiosity impels us to seek for knowledge of this
identity, this empty thing-in-itself. Now _knowledge_ means such
an acquaintance with the object as apprehends its distinct and
special subject-matter. But such subject-matter involves a complex
inter-connexion in the object itself, and supplies a ground of
connexion with many other objects. In the present case, to express the
nature of the features of the Infinite or Thing-in-itself, Reason would
have nothing except the categories: and in any endeavour so to employ
them Reason becomes over-soaring or 'transcendent.'
Here begins the second stage of the Criticism of Reason--which, as
an independent piece of work, is more valuable than the first. The
first part, as has been explained above, teaches that the categories
originate in the unity of self-consciousness; that any knowledge which
is gained by their means has nothing objective in it, and that the
very objectivity claimed for them is only subjective. So far as this
goes, the Kantian Criticism presents that 'common' type of idealism
known as Subjective Idealism. It asks no questions about the meaning
or scope of the categories, but simply considers the abstract form of
subjectivity and objectivity, and that even in such a partial way, that
the former aspect, that of subjectivity, is retained as a final and
purely affirmative term of thought. In the second part, however, when
Kant examines the _application,_ as it is called, which Reason makes
of the categories in order to know its objects, the content of the
categories, at least in some points of view, comes in for discussion:
or, at any rate, an opportunity presented itself for a discussion of
the question. It is worth while to see what decision Kant arrives at on
the subject of metaphysic, as this application of the categories to the
unconditioned is called. His method of procedure we shall here briefly
state and criticise.
47.] (a) The first of the unconditioned entities which Kant examines
is the Soul (see above, § 34). 'In my consciousness,' he says, 'I
always find that I (1) am the determining subject: (2) am singular, or
abstractly simple: (3) am identical, or one and the same, in all the
variety of what I am conscious of: (4) distinguish myself as thinking
from all the things outside me.'
Now the method of the old metaphysic, as Kant correctly states it,
consisted in substituting for these statements of experience the
corresponding categories or metaphysical terms. Thus arise these four
new propositions: _(a)_ the Soul is a substance: _(b)_ it is a simple
substance: _(c)_ it is numerically identical at the various periods of
existence: _(d)_ it stands in relation to space.
Kant discusses this translation, and draws attention to the Paralogism
or mistake of confounding one kind of truth with another. He points out
that empirical attributes have here been replaced by categories: and
shows that we are not entitled to argue from the former to the latter,
or to put the latter in place of the former.
This criticism obviously but repeats the observation of Hume
(§ 39) that the categories as a whole,--ideas of universality
and necessity,--are entirely absent from sensation; and that the
empirical fact both in form and contents differs from its intellectual
formulation.
If the purely empirical fact were held to constitute the credentials
of the thought, then no doubt it would be indispensable to be able
precisely to identify the 'idea' in the 'impression.'
And in order to make out, in his criticism of the metaphysical
psychology, that the soul cannot be described as substantial, simple,
self-same, and as maintaining its independence in intercourse with
the material world, Kant argues from the single ground, that the
several attributes of the soul, which consciousness lets us feel in
_experience,_ are not exactly the same attributes as result from the
action of _thought_ thereon. But we have seen above, that according
to Kant all knowledge, even experience, consists in thinking our
impressions--in other words, in transforming into intellectual
categories the attributes primarily belonging to sensation.
Unquestionably one good result of the Kantian criticism was that
it emancipated mental philosophy from the 'soul-thing,' from the
categories, and, consequently, from questions about the simplicity,
complexity, materiality, &c. of the soul. But even for the common sense
of ordinary men, the true point of view, from which the inadmissibility
of these forms best appears, will be, not that they are thoughts, but
that thoughts of such a stamp neither can nor do contain truth.
If thought and phenomenon do not perfectly correspond to one another,
we are free at least to choose which of the two shall be held the
defaulter. The Kantian idealism, where it touches on the world of
Reason, throws the blame on the thoughts; saying that the thoughts are
defective, as not being exactly fitted to the sensations and to a mode
of mind wholly restricted within the range of sensation, in which as
such there are no traces of the presence of these thoughts. But as to
the actual content of the thought, no question is raised.
Paralogisms are a species of unsound syllogism, the especial vice of
which consists in employing one and the same word in the two premisses
with a different meaning. According to Kant the method adopted by the
rational psychology of the old metaphysicians, when they assumed that
the qualities of the phenomenal soul, as given in experience, formed
part of its own real essence, was based upon such a Paralogism. Nor
can it be denied that predicates like simplicity, permanence, &c, are
inapplicable to the soul. But their unfitness is not due to the ground
assigned by Kant, that Reason, by applying them, would exceed its
appointed bounds. The true ground is that this style of abstract terms
is not good enough for the soul, which is very; much more than a mere
simple or unchangeable sort of thing. And thus, for example, while the
soul may be admitted to be simple self-sameness, it is at the same time
active and institutes distinctions in its own nature. But whatever
is merely or abstractly simple is as such also a mere dead thing. By
his polemic against the metaphysic of the past Kant discarded those
predicates from the soul or mind. He did well; but when he came to
state his reasons, his failure is apparent.
48.] (ß) The second unconditioned object is the World (§ 35). In the
attempt which reason makes to comprehend the unconditioned nature of
the World, it falls into what are called Antinomies. In other words
it maintains two opposite propositions about the same object, and in
such a way that each of them has to be maintained with equal necessity.
From this it follows that the body of cosmical fact, the specific
statements descriptive of which run into contradiction, cannot be a
self-subsistent reality, but only an appearance. The explanation
offered by Kant alleges that the contradiction does not affect the
object in its own proper essence, but attaches only to the Reason which
seeks to comprehend it.
In this way the suggestion was broached that the contradiction is
occasioned by the subject-matter itself, or by the intrinsic quality
of the categories. And to offer the idea that the contradiction
introduced into the world of Reason by the categories of Understanding
is inevitable and essential, was to make one of the most important
steps in the progress of Modern Philosophy. But the more important the
issue thus raised the more trivial was the solution. Its only motive
was an excess of tenderness for the things of the world. The blemish
of contradiction, it seems, could not be allowed to mar the essence of
the world: but there could be no objection to attach it to the thinking
Reason, to the essence of mind. Probably nobody will feel disposed to
deny that the phenomenal world presents contradictions to the observing
mind; meaning by 'phenomenal' the world as it presents itself to the
senses and understanding, to the subjective mind. But if a comparison
is instituted between the essence of the world and the essence of the
mind, it does seem strange to hear how calmly and confidently the
modest dogma has been advanced by one, and repeated by others, that
thought or Reason, and not the World, is the seat of contradiction.
It is no escape to turn round and explain that Reason falls into
contradiction only by applying the categories. For this application
of the categories is maintained to be necessary, and Reason is not
supposed to be equipped with any other forms but the categories for
the purpose of cognition. But cognition is determining and determinate
thinking: so that, if Reason be mere empty indeterminate thinking, it
thinks nothing. And if in the end Reason be reduced to mere identity
without diversity (see next §), it will in the end also win a happy
release from contradiction at the slight sacrifice of all its facts and
contents.
It may also be noted that his failure to make a more thorough study
of Antinomy was one of the reasons why Kant enumerated only _four_
Antinomies. These four attracted his notice, because, as may be seen
in his discussion of the so-called Paralogisms of Reason, he assumed
the list of the categories as a basis of his argument. Employing
what has subsequently become a favourite fashion, he simply put the
object under a rubric otherwise ready to hand, instead of deducing
its characteristics from its notion. Further deficiencies in the
treatment of the Antinomies I have pointed out, as occasion offered,
in my 'Science of Logic' Here it will be sufficient to say that
the Antinomies are not confined to the four special objects taken
from Cosmology: they appear in all objects of every kind, in all
conceptions, notions and Ideas. To be aware of this and to know objects
in this property of theirs, makes a vital part in a philosophical
theory. For the property thus indicated is what we shall afterwards
describe as the Dialectical influence in logic.
* * * * *
The principles of the metaphysical philosophy gave rise to the belief
that, when cognition lapsed into contradictions, it was a mere
accidental aberration, due to some subjective mistake in argument
and inference. According to Kant, however, thought has a natural
tendency to issue in contradictions or antinomies, whenever it seeks
to apprehend the infinite. We have in the latter part of the above
paragraph referred to the philosophical importance of the antinomies of
reason, and shown how the recognition of their existence helped largely
to get rid of the rigid dogmatism of the metaphysic of understanding,
and to direct attention to the Dialectical movement of thought. But
here too Kant, as we must add, never got beyond the negative result
that the thing-in-itself is unknowable, and never penetrated to the
discovery of what the antinomies really and positively mean. That true
and positive meaning of the antinomies is this: that every actual
thing involves a coexistence of opposed, elements. Consequently to
know, or, in other words, to comprehend an object is equivalent to
being conscious of it as a concrete unity of opposed determinations.
The old. metaphysic, as we have already seen, when it studied the
objects of which it sought a metaphysical knowledge, went to work by
applying categories abstractly and to the exclusion of their opposites.
Kant, on the other hand, tried to prove that the statements, issuing
through this method, could be met by other statements of contrary
import with equal warrant and equal necessity. In the enumeration of
these antinomies he narrowed his ground to the cosmology of the old
metaphysical system, and in his discussion made out four antinomies, a
number which rests upon the list of the categories. The first antinomy
is on the question: Whether we are or are not to think the world
limited in space and time. In the second antinomy we have a discussion
of the dilemma: Matter must be conceived either as endlessly divisible,
or as consisting of atoms. The third antinomy bears upon the antithesis
of freedom and necessity, to such extent as it is embraced in the
question, Whether everything in the world must be supposed subject to
the condition of causality, or if we can also assume free beings, in
other words, absolute initial points of action, in the world. Finally,
the fourth antinomy is the dilemma: Either the world as a whole has a
cause or it is uncaused.
The method which Kant follows in discussing these antinomies is as
follows. He puts the two propositions implied in the dilemma over
against each other as thesis and antithesis, and seeks to prove both:
that is to say he tries to exhibit them as inevitably issuing from
reflection on the question. He particularly protests against the charge
of being a special pleader and of grounding his reasoning on illusions.
Speaking honestly, however, the arguments which Kant offers for his
thesis and antithesis are mere shams of demonstration. The thing to
be proved is invariably implied in the assumption he starts from, and
the speciousness of his proofs is only due to his prolix and apagogic
mode of procedure. Yet it was, and still is, a great achievement for
the Critical philosophy, when it exhibited these antinomies: for
in this way it gave some expression (at first certainly subjective
and unexplained) to the actual unity of those categories which are
kept persistently separate by the understanding. The first of the
cosmological antinomies, for example, implies a recognition of the
doctrine that space and time present a discrete as well as a continuous
aspect: whereas the old metaphysic, laying exclusive emphasis on the
continuity, had been led to treat the world as unlimited in space
and time. It is quite correct to say that we can go beyond every
_definite_ space and beyond every _definite_ time: but it is no less
correct that space and time are real and actual only when they are
defined or specialised into 'here' and 'now,'--a specialisation which
is involved in the very notion of them. The same observations apply to
the rest of the antinomies. Take, for example, the antinomy of freedom
and necessity. The main gist of itis that freedom and necessity as
understood by abstract thinkers are not independently real, as these
thinkers suppose, but merely ideal factors (moments) of the true
freedom and the true necessity, and that to abstract and isolate either
conception is to make it false.
49.] (y) The third object of the Reason is God (§36): He also must
be known and defined in terms of thought. But in comparison with
an unalloyed identity, every defining term as such seems to the
understanding to be only a limit and a negation: every reality
accordingly must be taken as limitless, _i.e._ undefined. Accordingly
God, when He is defined to be the sum of all realities, the most real
of beings, turns into a _mere abstract._ And the only term under which
that most real of real, things can be defined is that of Being--itself
the height of abstraction. These are the two elements, abstract
identity, on one hand, which is spoken of in this place as the notion;
and Being on the other,--which Reason seeks to unify. And their union
is the _Ideal_ of Reason.
50.] To carry out this unification two ways or two forms are
admissible. Either we may begin with Being and proceed to the
_abstraction_ of Thought: or the movement may begin with the
abstraction and end in Being.
We shall, in the first place, start from Being. But Being, in its
natural aspect, presents itself to view as a Being of infinite variety,
a World in all its plenitude. And this world may be regarded in two
ways: first, as a collection of innumerable unconnected facts; and
second, as a collection of innumerable facts in mutual relation,
giving evidence of design. The first aspect is emphasised in the
Cosmological proof: the latter in the proofs of Natural Theology.
Suppose now that this fulness of being passes under the agency of
thought. Then it is stripped of its isolation and unconnectedness, and
viewed as a universal and absolutely necessary being which determines
itself and acts by general purposes or laws. And this necessary and
self-determined being, different from the being at the commencement, is
God.
The main force of Kant's criticism on this process attacks it for being
a syllogising, _i.e._ a transition. Perceptions, and that aggregate
of perceptions we call the world, exhibit as they stand no traces of
that universality which they afterwards receive from the purifying act
of thought. The empirical conception of the world therefore gives no
warrant for the idea of universality. And so any attempt on the part
of thought to ascend from the empirical conception of the world to
God is checked by the argument of Hume (as in the paralogisms, § 47),
according to which we have no right to think sensations, that is, to
elicit universality and necessity from them.
Man is essentially a thinker: and therefore sound Common Sense, as well
as Philosophy, will not yield up their right of rising to God from
and out of the empirical view of the world. The only basis on which
this rise is possible is the thinking study of the world, not the bare
sensuous, animal, attuition of it. Thought and thought alone has eyes
for the essence, substance, universal power, and ultimate design of the
world. And what men call the proofs of God's existence are, rightly
understood, ways of describing and analysing the native course of the
mind, the course of _thought_ thinking the _data_ of the senses. The
rise of thought beyond the world of sense, its passage from the finite
to the infinite, the leap into the super-sensible which it takes when
it snaps asunder the chain of sense, all this transition is thought and
nothing but thought. Say there is no such passage, and you say there is
to be no thinking. And in sooth, animals make no such transition. They
never get further than sensation and the perception of the senses, and
in consequence they have no religion.
Both on general grounds, and in the particular case, there are two
remarks to be made upon the criticism of this exaltation in thought.
The first remark deals with the question of form. When the exaltation
is exhibited in a syllogistic process, in the shape of what we call
_proofs_ of the being of God, these reasonings cannot but start from
some sort of theory of the world, which makes it an aggregate either
of contingent facts or of final causes and relations involving design.
The merely syllogistic thinker may deem this starting-point a solid
basis and suppose that it remains throughout in the same empirical
light, left at last as it was at the first. In this case, the bearing
of the beginning upon the conclusion to which it leads has a purely
affirmative aspect, as if we were only reasoning from one thing which
_is_ and continues to _be,_ to another thing which in like manner
is. But the great error is to restrict our notions of the nature
of thought to its form in understanding alone. To think think the
phenomenal world rather, means to re-cast its form, and transmute it
into a universal. And thus the action-of-thought, has also, _negative_
effect upon its basis: and the matter of sensation, when it receives
the stamp of universality, at once loses its first and phenomenal
shape. By the removal and negation of the shell, the kernel within the
sense; v percept is brought to the light (§§ 13 and 23). And it is
because they do not, with sufficient prominence, express the negative
features implied in the exaltation of the mind from the world to God,
that the metaphysical proofs of the being of a God are defective
interpretations and descriptions of the process. If the world is only a
sum of incidents, it follows that it is also deciduous and phenomenal,
in _esse_ and _posse_ null. That upward spring of the mind signifies,
that the being which the world has is only a semblance, no real being,
no absolute truth; it signifies that, beyond and above that appearance,
truth abides in God, so that true being is another name for God. The
process of exaltation might thus appear to be transition and to involve
a means, but it is not a whit less true, that every trace of transition
and means is absorbed; since the world, which might have seemed to be
the means of reaching God, is explained to be a nullity. Unless the
being of the world is nullified, the _point d'appui_ for the exaltation
is lost. In this way the apparent means vanishes, and the process
of derivation is cancelled in the very act by which it proceeds. It
is the affirmative aspect of this relation, as supposed to subsist
between two things, either of which _is_ as much as the other, which
Jacobi mainly has in his eye when he attacks the demonstrations of the
understanding. Justly censuring them for seeking conditions (_i.e._
the world) for the unconditioned, he remarks that the Infinite or
God must on such a method be presented as dependent and derivative.
But that elevation, as it takes place in the mind, serves to correct
this semblance: in fact, it has no other meaning than to correct that
semblance. Jacobi, however, failed to recognise the genuine nature of
essential thought--by which it cancels the mediation in the very act of
mediating; and consequently, his objection, though it tells against the
merely 'reflective' understanding, is false when applied to thought as
a whole, and in particular to reasonable thought.
To explain what we mean by the neglect of the negative factor in
thought, we may refer by way of illustration to the charges of
Pantheism and Atheism brought against the doctrines of Spinoza. The
absolute Substance of Spinoza certainly falls short of absolute spirit,
and it is a right and proper requirement that God should be defined
as absolute spirit. But when the definition in Spinoza is said to
identify the world with God, and to confound God with nature and the
finite world, it is implied that the finite world possesses a genuine
actuality and affirmative reality. If this assumption be admitted, of
course a union of God with the world renders God completely finite,
and degrades Him to the bare finite and adventitious congeries of
existence. But there are two objections to be noted. In the first place
Spinoza does not define God as the unity of God with the world, but as
the union of thought with extension, that is, with the material world.
And secondly, even if we accept this awkward popular statement as to
this unity, it would still be true that the system of Spinoza was not
Atheism but Acosmism, defining the world to be an appearance lacking in
true reality. A philosophy, which affirms that God and God-alone is,
should not be stigmatised as atheistic, when even those nations which
worship the ape, the cow, or images of stone and brass, are credited
with some religion. But as things stand the imagination of ordinary men
feels a vehement reluctance to surrender its dearest conviction, that
this aggregate of finitude, which it calls a world, has actual reality;
and to hold that there is no world is a way of thinking they are fain
to believe impossible, or at least much less possible than to entertain
the idea that there is no God. Human nature, not much to its credit, is
more ready to believe that a system denies God, than that it denies the
world. A denial of God seems so much more intelligible than a denial of
the world.
The second remark bears on the criticism of the material propositions
to which that elevation in thought in the first instance leads. If
these propositions have for their predicate such terms as substance of
the world, its necessary essence, cause which regulates and directs it
according to design, they are certainly inadequate to express what is
or ought to be understood by God. Yet apart from the trick of adopting
a preliminary popular conception of God, and criticising a result by
this assumed standard, it is certain that these characteristics have
great value, and are necessary factors in the idea of God. But if we
wish in this way to bring before thought the genuine idea of God,
and give its true value and expression to the central truth, we must
be careful not to start from a subordinate level of facts. To speak
of the 'merely contingent' things of the world is a very inadequate
description of the premisses. The organic structures, and the evidence
they afford of mutual adaptation, belong to a higher province, the
province of animated nature. But even without taking into consideration
the possible blemish which the study of animated nature and of the
other teleological aspects of existing things may contract from the
pettiness of the final causes, and from puerile instances of them and
their bearings, merely animated nature is, at the best, incapable of
supplying the material for a truthful expression to the idea of God.
God is more than life: He is Spirit. And therefore if the thought of
the Absolute takes a starting-point for its rise, and desires to take
the nearest, the most true and adequate starting-point will be found in
the nature of spirit alone.
51.] The other way of unification by which to realise the Ideal of
Reason is to set out from the _abstractum_ of Thought and seek to
characterise it: for which purpose Being is the only available term.
This is the method of the Ontological proof. The opposition, here
presented from a merely subjective point of view, lies between Thought
and Being; whereas in the first way of junction, being is common to the
two sides of the antithesis, and the contrast lies only between its
individualisation and universality. Understanding meets this second way
with what is implicitly the same objection, as it made to the first.
It denied that the empirical involves the universal: so it denies that
the universal involves the specialisation, which specialisation in this
instance is being. In other words it says: Being cannot be deduced from
the notion by any analysis.
The uniformly favourable reception and acceptance which attended
Kant's criticism of the Ontological proof was undoubtedly due to the
illustration which he made use of. To explain the difference between
thought and being, he took the instance of a hundred sovereigns,
which, for anything it matters to the notion, are the same hundred
whether they are real or only possible, though the difference of the
two cases is very perceptible in their effect on a man's purse. Nothing
can be more obvious than that anything we only think or conceive is not
on that account actual: that mental representation, and even notional
comprehension, always falls short of being. Still it may not unfairly
be styled a barbarism in language, when the name of notion is given
to things like a hundred sovereigns. And, putting that mistake aside,
those who perpetually urge against the philosophic Idea the difference
between Being and Thought, might have admitted that philosophers
were not wholly ignorant of the fact. Can there be any proposition
more trite than this? But after all, it is well to remember, when we
speak of God, that we have an object of another kind than any hundred
sovereigns, and unlike any one particular notion, representation, or
however else it may be styled. It is in fact this and this alone which
marks everything finite:--its being in time and space is discrepant
from its notion. God, on the contrary, expressly has to be what can
only be 'thought as existing'; His notion involves being. It is this
unity of the notion and being that constitutes the notion of God.
If this were all, we should have only a formal expression of the divine
nature which would not really go beyond a statement of the nature of
the notion itself. And that the notion, in its most abstract terms,
involves being is plain. For the notion, whatever other determination
it may receive, is at least reference back on itself, which results
by abolishing the intermediation, and thus is immediate. And what is
that reference to self, but being? Certainly it would be strange if the
notion, the very inmost of mind, if even the 'Ego,' or above all, the
concrete totality we call God, were not rich enough to include so poor
a category as being, the very poorest and most abstract of all. For,
if we look at the thought it holds, nothing can be more insignificant
than being. And yet there may be something still more insignificant
than being,--that which at first sight is perhaps supposed to _be,_ an
external and sensible existence, like that of the paper lying before
me. However, in this matter, nobody proposes to speak of the sensible
existence of a limited and perishable thing. Besides, the petty
stricture of the _Kritik_ that 'thought and being are different' can at
most molest the path of the human mind from the thought of God to the
certainty that He _is_: it cannot take it away. It is this process of
transition, depending on the absolute inseparability of the _thought_
of God from His being, for which its proper authority has been
re-vindicated in the theory of faith or immediate knowledge,--whereof
hereafter.
52.] In this way thought, at its highest pitch, has to go outside for
any determinateness: and although it is continually termed Reason, is
out-and-out abstract thinking. And the result of all is that Reason
supplies nothing beyond the formal unity required to simplify and
systematise experiences; it is a _canon,_ not an _organon_ of truth,
and can furnish only a _criticism_ of knowledge, not a _doctrine_ of
the infinite. In its final analysis this criticism is summed up in the
assertion that in strictness thought is only the indeterminate unity
and the action of this indeterminate unity.
Kant undoubtedly held reason to be the faculty of the
unconditioned; but if reason be reduced to abstract identity
only, it by implication renounces its unconditionality and is
in reality no better than empty understanding. For reason is
unconditioned, only in so far as its character and quality are not
due to an extraneous and foreign content, only in so far as it
is self-characterising, and thus, in point of content, is its own
master. Kant, however, expressly explains that the action of reason
consists solely in applying the categories to systematise the
matter given by perception, _e._ to place it in an outside order,
under the guidance of the principle of non-contradiction.
53.] (b) The Practical Reason is understood by Kant to mean a
_thinking_ Will, _i.e._ a Will that determines itself on universal
principles. Its office is to give objective, imperative laws of
freedom,--laws, that is, which state what ought to happen. The warrant
for thus assuming thought to be an activity which makes itself felt
objectively, that is, to be really a Reason, is the alleged possibility
of proving practical freedom by experience, that is, of showing it in
the phenomenon of self-consciousness. This experience in consciousness
is at once met by all that the Necessitarian produces from contrary
experience, particularly by the sceptical induction (employed amongst
others by Hume) from the endless diversity of what men regard as right
and duty,--_i.e._ from the diversity apparent in those professedly
objective laws of freedom.
54.] What, then, is to serve as the law which the Practical
Reason embraces and obeys, and as the criterion in its act of
self-determination? There is no rule at hand but the same abstract
identity of understanding as before: There must be no contradiction in
the act of self-determination. Hence the Practical Reason never shakes
off the formalism which is represented as the climax of the Theoretical
Reason.
But this Practical Reason does not confine the universal principle of
the Good to its own inward regulation: it first becomes _practical,_
in the true sense of the word, when it insists on the Good being
manifested in the world with an outward objectivity, and requires that
the thought shall be objective throughout, and not merely subjective.
We shall speak of this postulate of the Practical Reason afterwards.
The free self-determination which Kant denied to the speculative,
he has expressly vindicated for the practical reason. To many minds
this particular aspect of the Kantian philosophy made it welcome;
and that for good reasons. To estimate rightly what we owe to
Kant in the matter, we ought to set before our minds the form of
practical philosophy and in particular of 'moral philosophy,' which
prevailed in his time. It may be generally described as a system
of Eudaemonism, which, when asked what man's chief end ought to
be, replied Happiness. And by happiness Eudaemonism understood the
satisfaction of the private appetites, wishes and wants of the
man: thus raising the contingent and particular into a principle
for the will and its actualisation. To this Eudaemonism, which was
destitute of stability and consistency, and which left the 'door
and gate' wide open for every whim and caprice, Kant opposed the
practical reason, and thus emphasised the need for a principle
of will which should be universal and lay the same obligation
on all. The theoretical reason, as has been made evident in the
preceding paragraphs, is identified by Kant with the negative
faculty of the infinite; and as it has no positive content of its
own, it is restricted to the function of detecting the finitude of
experiential knowledge. To the practical reason, on the contrary,
he has expressly allowed a positive infinity, by ascribing to the
will the power of modifying itself in universal modes, _i.e._ by
thought. Such a power the will undoubtedly has: and it is well
to remember that man is free only in so far as he possesses it
and avails himself of it in his conduct. But a recognition of the
existence of this power is not enough and does not avail to tell
us what are the contents of the will or practical reason. Hence to
say, that a man must make the Good the content of his will, raises
the question, what that content is, and what are the means of
ascertaining what good is. Nor does one get over the difficulty by
the principle that the will must be consistent with itself, or by
the precept to do duty for the sake of duty.
55.] (c) The Reflective Power of Judgment is invested by Kant
with the function of an Intuitive Understanding. That is to say,
whereas the particulars had hitherto appeared, so far as the universal
or abstract identity was concerned, adventitious and incapable of
being deduced from it, the _Intuitive_ Understanding apprehends the
particulars as moulded and formed by the universal itself. Experience
presents such universalised particulars in the products of Art and of
_organic_ nature.
The capital feature in Kant's Criticism of the Judgment is, that in
it he gave a representation and a name, if not even an intellectual
expression, to the Idea. Such a representation, as an Intuitive
Understanding, or an inner adaptation, suggests a universal which
is at the same time apprehended as essentially a concrete unity, It
is in these aperçus alone that the Kantian philosophy rises to the
speculative height. Schiller, and others, have found in the idea of
artistic beauty, where thought and sensuous conception have grown
together into one, a way of escape from the abstract and separatist
understanding. Others have found the same relief in the perception
and consciousness of life and of living things, whether that life
be natural or intellectual.--The work of Art, as well as the living
individual, is, it must be owned, of limited content. But in the
postulated harmony of nature (or necessity) and free purpose,--in the
final purpose of the world conceived as realised, Kant has put before
us the Idea, comprehensive even in its content. Yet what may be called
the laziness of thought, when dealing with this supreme Idea, finds a
too easy mode of evasion in the 'ought to be': instead of the actual
realisation of the ultimate end, it clings hard to the disjunction
of the notion from reality. Yet if thought will not _think_ the ideal
realised, the senses and the intuition can at any rate _see_ it in the
present reality of living organisms and of the beautiful in Art. And
consequently Kant's remarks on these objects were well adapted to lead
the mind on to grasp and think the concrete Idea.
56.] We are thus led to conceive a different relation between the
universal of understanding and the particular of perception, than that
on which the theory of the Theoretical and Practical Reason is founded.
But while this is so, it is not supplemented by a recognition that the
former is the genuine relation and the very truth. Instead of that,
the unity (of universal with particular) is accepted only as it exists
in finite phenomena, and is adduced only as a fact of experience.
Such experience, at first only personal, may come from two sources.
It may spring from Genius, the faculty which produces 'aesthetic
ideas'; meaning by aesthetic ideas, the picture-thoughts of the free
imagination which subserve an idea and suggest thoughts, although their
content is not expressed in a notional form, and even admits of no
such expression. It may also be due to Taste, the feeling of congruity
between the free play of intuition or imagination and the uniformity of
understanding.
57.] The principle by which the Reflective faculty of Judgment
regulates and arranges the products of animated nature is described
as the End or final cause,--the notion in action, the universal at
once determining and determinate in itself. At the same time Kant is
careful to discard the conception of external or finite adaptation, in
which the End is only an adventitious form for the means and material
in which it is realised. In the living organism, on the contrary, the
final cause is a moulding principle and an energy immanent in the
matter, and every member is in its turn a means as well as an end.
58.] Such an Idea evidently radically transforms the relation which the
understanding institutes between means and ends, between subjectivity
and objectivity. And yet in the face of this unification, the End or
design is subsequently explained to be a cause which exists and acts
subjectively, _i.e._ as our idea only: and teleology is accordingly
explained to be only a principle of criticism, purely personal to _our_
understanding.
After the Critical philosophy had settled that Reason can know
phenomena only, there would still have been an option for animated
nature between two equally subjective modes of thought. Even according
to Kant's own exposition, there would have been an obligation to admit,
in the case of natural productions, a knowledge not confined to the
categories of quality, cause and effect, composition, constituents,
and so on. The principle of inward adaptation or design, had it been
kept to and carried out in scientific application, would have led to a
different and a higher method of observing nature.
59.] If we adopt this principle, the Idea, when all limitations were
removed from it, would appear as follows. The universality moulded by
Reason, and described as the absolute and final end or the Good, would
be realised in the world, and realised moreover by means of a third
thing, the power which proposes this End as well as realises it,--that
is, God. Thus in Him, who is the absolute truth, those oppositions of
universal and individual, subjective and objective, are solved and
explained to be neither self-subsistent nor true.
80.] But Good,--which is thus put forward as the final cause of the
world,--has been already described as only _our_ good, the moral law
of _our_ Practical Reason. This being so, the unity in question
goes no further than make the state of the world and the course of
its events harmonise with our moral standards.[1] Besides, even with
this limitation, the final cause, or Good, is a vague abstraction,
and the same vagueness attaches to what is to be Duty. But, further,
this harmony is met by the revival and re-assertion of the antithesis,
which it by its own principle had nullified. The harmony is then
described as merely subjective, something which merely ought to be,
and which at the same time is not real,--a mere article of faith,
possessing a subjective certainty, but without truth, or that
objectivity which is proper to the Idea. This contradiction may seem
to be disguised by adjourning the realisation of the Idea to a future,
to a _time_ when the Idea will also be. But a sensuous condition like
time is the reverse of a reconciliation of the discrepancy; and an
infinite progression--which is the corresponding image adopted by the
understanding--on the very face of it only repeats and re-enacts the
contradiction.
A general remark may still be offered on the result to which the
Critical philosophy led as to the nature of knowledge; a result
which has grown one of the current 'idols' or axiomatic beliefs of
the day. In every dualistic system, and especially in that of Kant,
the fundamental defect makes itself visible in the inconsistency of
unifying at one moment, what a moment before had been explained to
be independent and therefore incapable of unification. And then, at
the very moment after unification has been alleged to be the truth,
we suddenly come upon the doctrine that the two elements, which, in
their true status of unification, had been refused all independent
subsistence, are only true and actual in their state of separation.
Philosophising of this kind wants the little penetration needed to
discover, that this shuffling only evidences how unsatisfactory each
one of the two terms is. And it fails simply because it is incapable
of bringing two thoughts together. (And in point of form there are
never more than two.) It argues an utter want of consistency to say,
on the one hand, that the understanding only knows phenomena, and, on
the other, assert the absolute character of this knowledge, by such
statements as 'Cognition can go no further'; 'Here is the _natural_ and
absolute limit of human knowledge.' But 'natural' is the wrong word
here. The things of nature are limited and are natural things only to
such extent as they are not aware of their universal limit, or to such
extent as their mode or quality is a limit from our point of view,
and not from their own. No one knows, or even feels, that anything
is a limit or defect, until he is at the same time above and beyond
it. Living beings, for example, possess the privilege of pain which
is denied to the inanimate: even with living beings, a single mode or
quality passes into the feeling of a negative. For living beings as
such possess within them a universal vitality, which overpasses and
includes the single mode; and thus, as they maintain themselves in
the negative of themselves, they feel the contradiction to _exist_
within them. But the contradiction is within them, only in so far as
one and the same subject includes both the universality of their sense
of life, and the individual mode which is in negation with it. This
illustration will show how a limit or imperfection in knowledge comes
to be termed a limit or imperfection, only when it is compared with the
actually-present Idea of the universal, of a total and perfect. A very
little consideration might show, that to call a thing finite or limited
proves by implication the very presence of the infinite and unlimited,
and that our knowledge of a limit can only be when the unlimited is _on
this side_ in consciousness.
The result however of Kant's view of cognition suggests a second
remark. The philosophy of Kant could have no influence on the method of
the sciences. It leaves the categories and method of ordinary knowledge
quite unmolested. Occasionally, it may be, in the first sections of a
scientific work of that period, we find propositions borrowed from the
Kantian philosophy: but the course of the treatise renders it apparent
that these propositions were superfluous decoration, and that the few
first pages might have been omitted without producing the least change
in the empirical contents.[2]
We may next institute a comparison of Kant with the metaphysics of the
empirical school. Natural plain Empiricism, though it unquestionably
insists most upon sensuous perception, still allows a super-sensible
world or spiritual reality, whatever may be its structure and
constitution, and whether derived from intellect, or from imagination,
&c. So far as form goes, the facts of this super-sensible world rest on
the authority of mind, in the same way as the other facts, embraced
in empirical knowledge, rest on the authority of external perception.
But when Empiricism becomes reflective and logically consistent, it
turns its arms against this dualism in the ultimate and highest species
of fact; it denies the independence of the thinking principle and of
a spiritual world which developes itself in thought. Materialism or
Naturalism, therefore, is the consistent and thorough-going system
of Empiricism. In direct opposition to such an Empiricism, Kant
asserts the principle of thought and freedom, and attaches himself
to the first-mentioned form of empirical doctrine, the general
principles of which he never departed from. There is a dualism in
his philosophy also. On one side stands the world of sensation, and
of the understanding which reflects upon it. This world, it is true,
he alleges to be a world of appearances. But that is only a title
or formal description; for the source, the facts, and the modes of
observation continue quite the same as in Empiricism. On the other side
and independent stands a self-apprehending thought, the principle of
freedom, which Kant has in common with ordinary and bygone metaphysic,
but emptied of all that it held, and without his being able to infuse
into it anything new. For, in the Critical doctrine, thought, or, as it
is there called, Reason, is divested of every specific form, and thus
bereft of all authority. The main effect of the Kantian philosophy has
been to revive the consciousness of Reason, or the absolute inwardness
of thought. Its abstractness indeed prevented that inwardness from
developing into anything, or from originating any special forms,
whether cognitive principles or moral laws; but nevertheless it
absolutely refused to accept or indulge anything possessing the
character of an externality. Henceforth the principle of the
independence of Reason, or of its absolute self-subsistence, is made
a general principle of philosophy, as well as a foregone conclusion of
the time.
(1) The Critical philosophy has one great negative merit. It has
brought home the conviction that the categories of understanding are
finite in their range, and that any cognitive process confined within
their pale falls short of the truth. But Kant had only a sight of
half the truth. He explained the finite nature of the categories to
mean that they were subjective only, valid only for our thought, from
which the thing-in-itself was divided by an impassable gulf. In fact,
however, it is not because they are subjective, that the categories are
finite: they are finite by their very nature, and it is on their own
selves that it is requisite to exhibit their finitude. Kant however
holds that what we think is false, because it is we who think it. A
further deficiency in the system is that it gives only an historical
description of thought, and a mere enumeration of the factors of
consciousness. The enumeration is in the main correct: but not a word
touches upon the necessity of what is thus empirically colligated. The
observations, made on the various stages of consciousness, culminate
in the summary statement, that the content of all we are acquainted
with is only an appearance. And as it is true at least that all finite
thinking is concerned with appearances, so far the conclusion is
justified. This stage of 'appearance' however--the phenomenal world--is
not the terminus of thought: there is another and a higher region. But
that region was to the Kantian philosophy an inaccessible 'other world.'
(2) After all it was only formally, that the Kantian system established
the principle that thought is spontaneous and self-determining. Into
details of the manner and the extent of this self-determination of
thought, Kant never went. It was Fichte who first noticed the omission;
and who, after he had called attention to the want of a deduction for
the categories, endeavoured really to supply something of the kind.
With Fichte, the 'Ego' is the starting-point in the philosophical
development: and the outcome of its action is supposed to be visible
in the categories. But in Fichte the 'Ego' is not really presented
as a free, spontaneous energy; it is supposed to receive its first
excitation by a shock or impulse from without. Against this shock
the 'Ego' will, it is assumed, react, and only through this reaction
does it first become conscious of itself. Meanwhile, the nature of
the impulse remains a stranger beyond our pale: and the 'Ego,' with
something else always confronting it, is weighted with a condition.
Fichte, in consequence, never advanced beyond Kant's conclusion, that
the finite only is knowable, while the infinite transcends the range
of thought. What Kant calls the thing-by-itself, Fichte calls the
impulse from without--that abstraction of something else than 'I,' not
otherwise describable or definable than as the negative or non-Ego in
general. The 'I' is thus looked at as standing in essential relation
with the not-I, through which its act of self-determination is first
awakened. And in this manner the 'I' is but the continuous act of
self-liberation from this impulse, never gaining a real freedom,
because with the surcease of the impulse the 'I,' whose being is
its action, would also cease to be. Nor is the content produced by
the action of the 'I' at all different from the ordinary content of
experience, except by the supplementary remark, that this content is
mere appearance.
[1] Even Hermann's 'Handbook of Prosody' begins with paragraphs of
Kantian philosophy. In § 8 it is argued that a law of rhythm must be
(1) objective, (a) formal, and (3) determined _à priori._ With these
requirements and with the principles of Causality and Reciprocity which
follow later, it were well to compare the treatment of the various
measures, upon which those formal principles do not exercise the
slightest influence.
[2] In Kant's own words (Criticism of the Power of Judgment, p. 427):
'Final Cause is merely a notion of our practical reason. It cannot
be deduced from any data of experience as a theoretical criterion of
nature, nor can it be applied to know nature. No employment of this
notion is possible except solely for the practical reason, by moral
laws. The final purpose of the Creation is that constitution of the
world which harmonises with that to which alone we can give definite
expression on universal principles, viz. the final purpose of our pure
practical reason, and with that in so far as it means to be practical.'