That wherein we are bound up, or which we our selves are, can not be known. To know it, we must go beyond it, take up a stand-point outside of it This going beyond real life, this outside stand-point is speculation. Only in so far as these two stand points are possible, it is possible for man to know himself! You may live, and perhaps live very rationally, without speculating, for you can live without knowing life; but you can not know life without speculating.
In short: the duplicity which extends through out the whole system of reason, and which is grounded in the original duplicity of subject and object, is here seized in its highest form. Life is the totality of the objective rational being; and speculation is the totality of the subjective rational being. One is not possible without the other. Life, as an active surrendering to a mechanism, is not possible without the activity and freedom (other wise speculation) which surrenders itself; though the latter may not arise to the clear consciousness of every individual; and speculation is not possible without the life froin which it abstracts. Both life and speculation are determinable only through each other. Life is most properly not-p]iilf>sop]iizing; and philosophizing is most properly not-life. This is a complete antithesis, and a point of union is here quite as impossible as it is to point out the X, which is the ground of the subject-object of the Ego. The only union is in the consciousnes of the true philosopher, that both stand-points do exist for him.
No proposition, therefore, of a philosophy which knows itself, is, in that form, ^proposition, for real life. It is either a step in the system, to proceed from it to other propositions; or, if it is the final proposition of speculation concerning some particu lar branch of knowledge, it is a proposition to which perception and sensation must first be add ed, as comprehended in it, in order to be fit for use in real life. Even the completed system of philo sophy can not give you sensation, nor replace it Sensation is the only true inner principle of life. Kant already has stated this often enough, and it is the innermost soul of his philosophy. Jacobi, quite independent of Kant, nay, believing himself at variance with Kant in this, has also stated it often enough. So has Mendelssohn. I also have said it often enough, and as energetically as possible, ever since the first statements of my system were made public.
My opponents can not, therefore, but have heard it; but they can not get accustomed to it. They may have gotten hold of it as a historical proposi tion, but not as a rule of their judgments; for in all their judgments they seem to have forgotten it They are the students of a philosophy which gets hold of new truths by reasonings; and hence, when ever they hear a philosophical proposition, they at once look to see what new truth may have been reasoned out by it What, then, is the use of philosophy, and what need is there of all the subtle preparations of that science, when it is confessed that philosophy can say nothing new for life, nay, can not even cultivate and develop life; that philosophy is only a science of knowledge, not a school for wisdom?
It might be sufficient to say, it is at least a pos sible branch of mental culture which should be developed, even though it had no other use. Being possible, it should also be realized, for man should realize all the possibilities of reason.
But the chief use of philosophy, as has been fre quently stated, is negative and critical What is usually called world-wisdom labors not under the difficulty of containing too little, but too much. The just mentioned seasoned out truths of former metaphysics have been carried into that general culture and mode of thinking; whereas they ought to have been separated therefrom. Transcendental philosophers propose to separate all those reasoned out truths from general culture, and to bring back that culture to its truly human, and hence, neces sary and ineradicable basis. This was also all KANT proposed to do.
But indirectly, that is, in so far as its knowledge unites with the knowledge.. p£ lifer it has also a positive use. Philosophy is pedagogical in the widest significance of this word, for the immediate practical life. Because this science has to teach AA us to comprehend the whole man, it shows from the highest grounds how men should be cultured, in order to make permanent in them moral and religious sentiments, and gradually to universalize these sentiments.
For theoretical observation, for the knowledge of the sensuous world, that is to say, for natural sci ences, philosophy is regulative, showing what we must inquire of nature, and how we have to ques tion her. But its influence on the sentiments of mankind in general consists chiefly in this, that it brings power, courage, and self-confidence in man, by showing him that he and his whole fate depend solely upon himself, or by placing him on his own feet.
And thus a philosophy of religion is by no means the doctrine of religion, still less is it to replace religious sentiment; it is simply the theory of reli gion, and its object here is also both critical and pedagogical It proposes to abolish incomprehensi ble, useless,and confusing doctrines about God, which by those very qualities afford a target for irreligiousness. These it abolishes by showing that they are nothing, and that none of them fit the human mind. It likewise shows how in the human heart religiousness is generated and developed, and thus how mankind can be educated to be religious; not by means of philosophy, which does not influence life, but only teaches a knowledge of it, but by awak ening the true supersensual motive-powers of life.
The tendency of a philosophical system of religion can, therefore, not be correctly apprehended until it is completed, until it is an exhaustive pic ture of the whole sphere of human reason. Only then can it begin to be pedagogical I have begun a philosophy of religion* in the above meaning of the word, and in no other. But I have not completed that philosophy, having only laid down its basis. To thus complete it will now be my earnest labor, and I hope soon to be able to satisfy the public concerning it.
I said above: Transcendental philosophy proposes to systematically represent the real general know ledge, but it admits as valid only knowledge found ed upon perception — rejecting all knowledge pro duced by argumentation. The reality of its know ledge that philosophy, therefore, always derives from perception; but in so far as it must compre hend the necessity and show the deductions of this knowledge, it does not appeal to facts; for, if it did, it would cease to be transcendental philosophy.
Hence, that philosophy can never come into dis pute with common, natural consciousness, since it does not touch that consciousness at all, but moves in an utterly different world It is only at variance with a new philosophy which pretends to think out new facts; and hence, whatsoever transcendental philosophy may contradict, belongs, since it is not to be found in a system of universal reason, to that new philosophy.
* Alluding to the article: " Concerning the Ground of our Faith in a Divine World-Government" 3 SO THE SCIENCE OF KNOWLEDGE, Now, my philosophy of religion is at variance •with that new philosophy, partly concerning the origin of religion, which the former holds to be in a sentiment, the latter to be produced by argument; partly concerning the extent and content of reli gion, which the latter holds to consist of know ledges and doctrines, whilst I hold no such thing.
A great portion of our tJuology is such very phi losophy, and a great portion of our religious educa tional books (catechisms, hymn-books, etc) is theology. Hence, I am in conflict with these books, as far as they are theology — not so far as they are religion; in other words, so far as their theoretical content is concerned; the deduction whereof those books happily rarely attempt. My philosophy of religion can, therefore, also enter into no conflict with the religious feelings of man in common life, occupying, as it does, an utterly different sphere. Still, the pedagogical results of my philosophy might lead to such a conflict; but in that case they must first appear, and as yet they have not been estab lished by me.
It is, therefore, absolutely irrational to judge of my system as a system of world-wisdom, and to attack it with world-wisdom. And yet most of my opponents have done this.
Amongst this may be classified all that has been said concerning a Fichteian God, a Jacobian God, a Spinoza God, etc, Fichte, Jacobi, and Spinoza are something different from their philosophy. The philosopher has no God at all, and can have none; THE SCIENCE OP KNOWLEDGE. 3$ I he can only have a conception of the conception or of the idea of God. God and religion are only in life; but the philosopher as such is not the whole complete man> but is man in a condition of abstrac tion; and it is impossible that any one should be only philosopher. Whatsoever is posited through reason is absolutely the same for all rational beings.
Religion and belief in God is thus posited through reason, and hence is posited in the same manner for all rational beings. In this respect there are absolutely no many religions, no many Gods; but there is simply one God. Only that in the concep tion of God, which all must admit and agree to, is the true; but that in their conception of God, (not the conception of the conception of God,) respect ing which they disagree, is necessarily false. All are wrong in regard to those points, for the very reason that the points can be disputed. That which can thus be controverted has been derived through argumentation by a false philosophy, or has been memorized from a catechism based on a false phi losophy. True religiousness says nothing about it Amongst this may also be classified the attempt to oppose my philosophy to Christianity, and to refute the one by the other. True, it has hereto fore always been customary for the philosopher to make Christianity harmonize with his philosophy, and for the Christian to make his faith agree with his philosophical thinking; but this only proves that the men who undertook to do this knew neither philosophy nor Christianity. Our philosophy does not dream of such a thing. Christianity is wisdom of life, is popular philosophy in the true and highest sense of the word; and can not be any thing else without losing its rank and sinking down into the sphere of argumentation, and thereby admitting the validity of demonstration, and hence exposing itself to the dispute of philosophical systems. With Christianity as such original wisdom of life, our philosophy can not enter into a conflict; for our philosophy is only theory of that wisdom. Only the results of our philosophy might come into con flict -with the results of Christianity; but let me ask, where are these results, and, I might add, where is true Christianity? Has it not in all cases, where it reaches us, passed through the crucible of that argumentative understanding?
Again, it is charged that, according to my system, God is not to be the Creator and Governor of the world, that my system discards a divine Providence! Why, you dear, good unphilosophers! For you the whole distinction, the whole opposition whereby one philosophical system asserts this and another denies it, does not at all exist. If you are really good and religious, continue to take it in the sense in which it is true. I was not addressing you at all, but was speaking to philosophers, who may be as sumed to know that distinction, and who yet take those dogmas in the sense in which they are not true. I only wanted to contradict them; and they, at least, ought to have understood me. Wait yet awhile, and I shall get to the other side, and show the purely religious significance of these doctrines. And then I shall show that you are correct, and that I never was quarreling with you.
In short: my philosophy of religion can only be judged, disputed, or confirmed from a transcenden tal point of view. Let that reader who does not even yet know what the transcendental point of view is be convinced, at least, that he ought not to take part in the dispute.
Most assuredly is religion a proper concern for all men, and every one may properly speak and argue about it It is the destination of man to come to an agreement on this, the final object of reason. But a philosophy of religion is not reli gion, and is not written for all men, and for the criticisms of all men. Religion itself is living and powerful; the theory of religion is dead in itsel£ Religion fills us with feelings and sentiments; the theory of religion only speaks of them; it neither destroys them nor seeks to create new ones.
The true seat of the misunderstanding of my philosophy, and of its controversy with opposite doctrines, which are more or less conscious of this opposition, is concerning the relation of cognition to actual life. The opposite systems make cogni tion the principle of life; and believe that by a free, arbitrary thinking they can generate certain know ledges and conceptions, and implant them in men by argumentation, by which conceptions they be lieve feelings may be produced, desires excited, and thus the activity of man determined. Hence, 354 THE SCIENCE. OF KNOWLEDGE.
they hold cognition to be the higher, and life the lower, utterly dependent upon cognition. But my phDosophy holds precisely the reverse. It makes life, the system of feelings and of desire, the high est, and allows to cognition only a looking on of their working. This system of feelings is through out determined in consciousness, and involves an immediate cognition, not derived from conclusions or from a free argumentation. Only this immediate cognition has reality, and is, therefore, alone the moving principle of life, being itself generated in life. Hence, when the reality of a cognition is to be proven through philosophy or through argumen tation, a feeling must first be shown up — I shall call it feeling for the present, until I more definitely account for the use of this word — with which this cognition immediately connects. Free argumenta tion can only penetrate and sift the contents of this feeling, separate and connect the manifold of it, and thus facilitate the use of it, and bring it under the power of consciousness; but argumentation can not increase that content, ran not extend or change its sphere. Our cognition is given us at once, for all eternity; and hence we can in all eter nity only develop it as it is. Only the immediate is true; the mediated is only true in so far as it is grounded in the immediate; beyond it lies the sphere of chimeras and dreams.
Now, one of the latest defenders of that opposite system, Mr. Eberhard, asks me: " Are not moral feelings dependent upon the culture of reason?"
As if there were but oiu answer to his question, and as if I could not but admit it! It would need more space than I can spare now to show up all the errors which are involved in that simple and plau sibly sounding sentence. But let me ask: What does it mean to make feelings dependent upon the culture of reason? It means that you want to pro duce the above immediate through argumentation, to force upon others and yourself through syllo gisms what neither you nor the others originally feel or possess. Well, try and make yourself and others weep and laugh through syllogisms as much as you please.
I, therefore, reply to his question, and adopt ing his meaning of the word "reason," by no means! That reason of which you speak is theo retical reason, is the power of cognition! But this reason says only that and how something be; but says nothing of an activity, and of a sJiall, which determines that activity. (Nothing of a conscience which tells you: You sliall do this or that! — TRANS LATOR.)
Mr. E. proceeds: "Why are moral feelings coarse in the uncultured man, and in the cultured and educated man correct, fine, and extensive? Is it not because the former is empty of conceptions, and the latter rich in correct, clear, and effective conceptions?"
Tell me, what does this mean — coarse* feelings? Mr. E. will please pardon me. But according to * Original: Rau, (raw.)
35<> THE SCIENCE OF KNOWLEDGE.
my conceptions of feeling, the adjective coarse can not be applied to feeling in any manner; and until I have the connection explained, I can not well dis cuss this part of the subject " They are correct in the cultured man!" Here I can at least suppose what Mr. E. means. The judg ment concerning an object of morality may be cor rect or incorrect, but by no means the moral feeling itself, which as a feeling is an absolute simple, and expresses no relation whatever. But what, then, is the criterion of the correctness of a judgment? Perhaps a logical criterion, derived from former premises? It may be that Mr. E. so conceives it. But what, then, is the original premise? Also a logical one? I have not time here to point out all the absurdities.
His feeling is, moreover, " fine," Now, in popu lar language, one may well say of a man: His moral tact is fine, that is, he has acquired a facility of quickly and correctly judging moral matters; but it can never be used as signifying: The original and true moral feeling (which, being absolute, can not be increased nor diminished, and which only says, this shall be, or this shall not be!) may be raised to a higher degree of perfection. But this facility of judgment, is it acquired from life or from idle speculation, and is its criterion a theoretical principle, discovered through argumentation? I suppose Mr. E. will say yes; but I do not say yes, from reasons which every one will find in my Science of Morality.
Feeling is, moreover, to be extensive. Now, moral feeling extends to all men equally, and is directed upon all objects of free activity. The man of theoretical culture — for we only speak of such a culture, and not of practical culture through the cultivation of virtue — differs in this respect from the uncultured man only in the extent of his sphere of action, but not as such, not in intensity of moral feeling or strength of moral will, unless, indeed, Mr. E. should prove that theoretical culture can pro duce and increase moral will It is true this would be the result of his premises, but we hesitate to hold hira responsible for such an assertion, until he confesses it expressly.
Mr. E. proceeds: " Why have the horrors of su perstition disfigured the doctrine of morality?" If he really means what he says, his question implies: Why do wrong conclusions follow from wrong pre mises? But if he means to say: Why have those horrors disfigured morality? then I ask him again: Why has superstition darkened and sullied the con ception of God, which sullied conception could not but influence moral judgment, not morality itself? And I answer: Undoubtedly by virtue of a false theoretical argument concerning that conception of God!
Hence, if a weak-minded, superstitious, religious fanatic should assist in burning a heretic, and ap peal to his moral feelings for justification, ought we not to restore those moral feelings, or those original conceptions, and free them from the wrong direction given to them by false argumentation? Moral feeling (conscience) is correct, and can never be otherwise than correct, if not led astray by ar gumentation. Or does Mr. E. seriously mean to say that there is a variety of moral feelings for dif ferent individuals, and that amongst these there is, for instance, one which incites to the burning of heretics?
Now, what is that feeling upon which our faith in a Divinity is grounded and shown up as real?
Let me first make a distinction of the word feel ing. Feeling is either sensuous — feeling of a bitter, red, hard, cold, etc. — or it is intellectual, Mr. E., and all the philosophers of his school, seem utterly to ignore the latter class, and to be unaware that without the latter class consciousness can not be made comprehensible.
Now, in these pages I am not speaking of sen suous, but of intellectual feeling. It is the imme diate feeling of the certainty and necessity of a thinking. Truth is certainty. Now, how do the philosophers of the opposite school believe, to know that they are certain in a particular case? By the general, theoretical insight that their thinking agrees with the laws of logic? But this theoreti cal insight is itself only a certainty of a higher de gree; how can they be certain that they do not err in their certainty of that agreeing? By another still higher theoretical insight? But whence do they get that? And so on ad infinitum. It is just as impossible to obtain certainty in this manner, as it TJtF SCIENCE OF KNOWLEDGE, 359 is impossible to explain the feeling of certainty. Moreover, is that certainty an objective or a sub jective condition? And how can I perceive such a condition except through an absolutely primary immediate feeling?
But what is this feeling? It is clear that this feeling only accompanies my thinking, and does not enter without a thinking and without a particular content of that thinking. How could it have, in deed, such a content or a truth in itself?
It is, therefore, evident that, if the feeling of cer tainty is inseparable from a thinking and from the content thereof, and if this thinking contains in itself the condition of all mediated certainty or rationality, all men must agree as to this feeling. It is to be presupposed in every human being, though you might, perhaps, only make a person conscious of it, and not make him acknowledge it theoretically; as, indeed, is impossible, seeing that it is an immediate.
This feeling is, therefore, not only intellectual feeling in general, but it is the first and most ori ginal intellectual feeling and ground of all certainty, of all reality, and of all objectivity.
It accompanies the thinking, that in the realiza tion of the absolute object proposed for us by our moral nature, namely, absolute self-determination of reason, there is a steady progress possible; and that the condition of this progress is the absolute fulfillment of our duty in every position of life, solely for duty's sake. (The absolute obedience to the voice of conscience, or to the voice of absolute reason, or to the voice of God. — TRANSLATOR.) And this feeling of certainty accompanies such thinking necessarily, being itself an integral part of that object proposed for us; it is, moreover, inse parable from the consciousness that we must pro pose that object to ourselves; in fact, it is in truth only the immediate expression of this conscious ness.
Let us analyze further what this may involve: I think: it is possible that reason does constantly approach and get nearer its ultimate object. This might, perhaps, be regarded as an arbitrary think ing, a mere problematical positing, which has no •other advantage than its own possibility. But as such it must not be viewed. This thinking shows itself up to be, in a certain connection, as a neces sary thinking, without which consciousness would not be possible; and hence, that which results from this thinking by logical necessity, that is, by media tion, is equally necessary.
Now, if I posit in my acting an object, then I also posit that object as realized in some future time. This is a necessary, logical sequence. But, viewing the matter simply in its logical sequence, I might as well turn that sentence around and re verse its relation. This has often been done in the following statement: it shall and can not propose to myself the final object of morality, unless I am already convinced that it can be realized in some future time. But then, again, I might say, I can not be convinced that it is capable of being realized unless I first simply propose it to myself But why shall I propose it to myself at all?
In short, in the mere logical relation each is cer tain only under condition, and not in itself Each link refers us to the other, but the orginal certainty of that consciousness is not explained.
This certainty can, therefore, only live in the immediateness of a feeling, and in this feeling these two links are originally one in this manner: I sJiall absolutely posit that moral object for myself, and sJiall consider it as possible of realization; I shall consider it possible of realization, and hence posit it Neither is, in truth, the sequence of the othei, but both are one. It «is one thought, not two thoughts; and it is true and certain, not by virtue of a thinking which draws that conclusion, but by virtue of a necessity which I only feel Since, therefore, certainty is only immediate and feelable, it can not be demonstrated to any one, but can certainly be presupposed in ever}' one, since those who have it, and who, moreover, reflect con cerning the connection of human knowledge, must recognize that every other knowledge is only grounded upon it, and that every one, who knows any thing with certainty, has started from that knowledge, although, perhaps, unconsciously.
Remark this: you do not require any one to produce this knowledge, but simply to find it in himself. Every mediated certainty presupposes an original certainty. In the consciousness of every one, who is convinced of any thing at all, that cer tainty exists also; and every one can arise to that certainty from any conditioned and mediated know ledge.
I may here allude to another misunderstanding of my system. It is charged that, in my system, faith in Goc exists only for the moral, not for the immoral man. This is very correct when it means that faith is true only for man, in so far as he is moral; but not when it is interpreted that faith exists only for those men who are moral For where, then, is the personified, absolute im morality? It is an impossibility. Man can only be, and be self-conscious, in so far as he stands on the field of reason. Without any morality man is but an animal, but a product of organization, even in his theoretical knowledge.
This, then, is our result: Absolute certainty and conviction (not mere meaning, opinioning, and wishing) of the possibility — not to determine one's self, that is, one's will by the conception of duty, for this we recognize as possible by doing it, but — to promote the object of reason by thus determining our will through tltc conviction of dutyt even BEYOND OUR WILL, is the immediate of religion, and is ground ed in the soul of man in the manner we Jiave shown.
Here I must insert a remark concerning the use of language which I can no longer postpone with out making myself ambiguous, and exposing myself again to old objections.
The word being signifies always immediately an object of thinking, a thought Now, either to this word is also applied the predicate of an existence, a permanent and lasting, in sensuous perception outside of thinking, and in that case it signifies real being, and when applied to an object means, that object is — or to that word is applied no other predi cate of being, but its thinking — and, in that case, the significance of such being is purely logical; and the word is only signifies the logical copula in which the manifold of predicates is fixed by think ing in a unity of the logical subject In that case, you can not say of an object " it is," but it is to be tlwught as this or that There are further distinc tions to be made here, of which I shall speak after ward.
There are other words related to the expression " being," which have also these two significations: The word " principle," for instance, which I have used, signifies, in a system of real being, a first, from which I can calculate a second and third, even without sensuous perception and with categorical certainty, thereby anticipating experience. But in this sense of the word the intelligible principle, freedom, is never principle of a real cognition, is never ground of an explanation and anticipation, that is, you can not foresee wliat will become actual through freedom. We only know through percep tion what is actual; and for the very reason that we do not recognize the product of freedom as a link of a comprehensible chain of causes and ef fects — it being an absolute first, and partially cog- BB nizable only in perception — do we say, freedom is a principle. Not principle in the actual sense, as ground of an immediate and necessary factical determinedness, but in the logical sense, as principle of possibilities.
It is the same with the word law. In the sen suous world law signifies tliat determination of power from which, as principle, the consequences • can be deduced in the manner just stated. But when applied to the finite beings — who are free in the empirical sense of the word, that is, who are thought as simply determinable, and not deter mined — the word law means a sliall, a categorical imperative, that is, a determinedness of freedom through freedom, and, therefore, no mechanical, no immediate determinedness. But when applied to the infinite, or to reason, KQT' it,o%i}v — to which the empirical freedom just now mentioned can not be ascribed, as itself the result of finity — the word law signifies simply the necessity to always expect from that reason a determined content, determined (not inatcrialitcr, for in so far it is absolutely un known to us, and, a priori, not to be deduced, but) formaliter, or determined through its object, the ul timate object of reason — to expect from it always an infinite, inexluzustiblc content of freedom for all ra tional individuals /* although no existing deter- * Or, in other words, the necessity to expect from infinite reason that it should ever manifest itself in the conscience of all individuals, and thus render them free, moral beings, or at least furnish them the content of that freedom, — TRANSLATOR'S NOTE, minedness can be shown up from which it might mechanically result, since we are here not in the sphere of the objective, but at the absolute ideal source of spirit. The word law has, therefore, here also no actual significance from which external and necessary results might be derived, but only logical significance, as gathering together that infinite con tent of freedom of the individuals into cite concep tion-It is the same with the word world. In its ac tual significance it means a finished whole of exist ing objects, in a reciprocal determination of their being, each of which being what it is, because all others are what they are, and vice versa; a whole, wherein, with a perfect knowledge of the laws of the world, we could determine the nature of each particular from that of all others. When applied to rational beings, that word signifies also, it is true, a totality, an influence of all upon each one, and of each one upon all; but not an influence which can be determined in advance, as it can be in nature, because in the world of rational beings this in fluence has its ground in being. Hence, the word world has here also only a logical, not an actual, significance.
The expression, order of a supersensuous world, has also been used; nay, I have often used it my self. But this expression is misapprehended, when it is understood as if the supersensuous world were before it had order, and as if order were thus but an accidence of that world. On the contrary, that world only becomes a world by being ordered.
Hence, whenever the purely intelligible is spoken of, all these and similar conceptions, that is, all conceptions which are derived from being and only determine it further, are used only in theif logical, not in their actual significance.
I state this to put an end to a reproof frequently made, that I make use of the same words which I condemn in others; but I must use them to make myself understood, and I must take them from lan guage in their accepted significance. But I use them in another sense than my opponent uses them, as ought to be evident from the deduction of the conceptions which they designate.