,,aesthetical ,,and ,,philosophical ,,essays by ,frederick ,schiller ,,contents ,,introduction ,,vocabulary ,,of ,,terminology ,,letters ,,on ,,the ,,aesthetical ,,education ,,of ,,man ,,aesthetical ,,essays3-- ,,the ,,moral ,,utility ,,of ,,aesthetic ,,manners ,,on ,,the ,,sublime ,,the ,,pathetic ,,on ,,grace ,,and ,,dignity ,,on ,,dignity ,,on ,,the ,,necessary ,,limitations ,,in ,,the ,,use ,,of ,,beauty ,,and ,,form ,,reflections ,,on ,,the ,,use ,,of ,,the ,,vulgar ,,and ,,low ,,elements ,,in ,,works ,,of ,,art ,,detached ,,reflections ,,on ,,different ,,questions ,,of ,,aesthetics ,,on ,,simple ,,and ,,sentimental ,,poetry ,,the ,,stage ,,as ,a ,,moral ,,institution ,,on ,,the ,,tragic ,,art ,,of ,,the ,,cause ,,of ,,the ,,pleasure ,,we ,,derive ,,from ,,tragic ,,objects ,,introduction4 ,the special subject of the greater part of the letters and essays of ,schiller contained in this volume is ,aesthetics2 and before passing to any remarks on his treatment of the subject it will be useful to offer a few observations on the nature of this topic1 and on its treatment by the philosophical spirit of different ages4 ,first1 then1 aesthetics has for its object the vast realm of the beautiful1 and it may be most adequately defined as the philosophy of art or of the fine arts4 ,to some the definition may seem arbitrary1 as excluding the beautiful in nature2 but it will cease to appear so if it is remarked that the beauty which is the work of art is higher than natural beauty1 because it is the offspring of the mind4 ,moreover1 if1 in conformity with a certain school of modern philosophy1 the mind be viewed as the true being1 including all in itself1 it must be admitted that beauty is only truly beautiful when it shares in the nature of mind1 and is mind's offspring4 ,viewed in this light1 the beauty of nature is only a reflection of the beauty of the mind1 only an imperfect beauty1 which as to its essence is included in that of the mind4 ,nor has it ever entered into the mind of any thinker to develop the beautiful in natural objects1 so as to convert it into a science and a system4 ,the field of natural beauty is too uncertain and too fluctuating for this purpose4 ,moreover1 the relation of beauty in nature and beauty in art forms a part of the science of aesthetics1 and finds again its proper place4 ,but it may be urged that art is not worthy of a scientific treatment4 ,art is no doubt an ornament of our life and a charm to the fancy2 but has it a more serious side8 ,when compared with the absorbing necessities of human existence1 it might seem a luxury1 a superfluity1 calculated to enfeeble the heart by the assiduous worship of beauty1 and thus to be actually prejudicial to the true interest of practical life4 ,this view seems to be largely countenanced by a dominant party in modern times1 and practical men1 as they are styled1 are only too ready to take this superficial view of the office of art4 ,many have indeed undertaken to defend art on this score1 and to show that1 far from being a mere luxury1 it has serious and solid advantages4 ,it has been even apparently exaggerated in this respect1 and represented as a kind of mediator between reason and sense1 between inclination and duty1 having as its mission the work of reconciling the conflicting elements in the human heart4 ,a strong trace of this view will be found in ,schiller1 especially in all that he says about the play-instinct in his ,aesthetical ,letters4 ,nevertheless1 art is worthy of science2 aesthetics is a true science1 and the office of art is as high as that assigned to it in the pages of ,schiller4 ,we admit that art viewed only as an ornament and a charm is no longer free1 but a slave4 ,but this is a perversion of its proper end4 ,science has to be considered as free in its aim and in its means1 and it is only free when liberated from all other considerations2 it rises up to truth1 which is its only real object1 and can alone fully satisfy it4 ,art in like manner is alone truly art when it is free and independent1 when it solves the problem of its high destination--that problem whether it has to be placed beside religion and philosophy as being nothing else than a particular mode or a special form of revealing ,god to consciousness1 and of expressing the deepest interests of human nature and the widest truths of the human mind4 ,for it is in their works of art that the nations have imprinted their favorite thoughts and their richest intuitions1 and not unfrequently the fine arts are the only means by which we can penetrate into the secrets of their wisdom and the mysteries of their religion4 ,it is made a reproach to art that it produces its effects by appearance and illusion2 but can it be established that appearance is objectionable8 ,the phenomena of nature and the acts of human life are nothing more than appearances1 and are yet looked upon as constituting a true reality2 for this reality must be sought for beyond the objects perceived immediately by the sense1 the substance and speech and principle underlying all things manifesting itself in time and space through these real existences1 but preserving its absolute existence in itself4 ,now1 the very special object and aim of art is to represent the action and development of this universal force4 ,in nature this force or principle appears confounded with particular interests and transitory circumstances1 mixed up with what is arbitrary in the passions and in individual wills4 ,art sets the truth free from the illusory and mendacious forms of this coarse1 imperfect world1 and clothes it in a nobler1 purer form created by the mind itself4 ,thus the forms of art1 far from being mere appearances1 perfectly illusory1 contain more reality and truth than the phenomenal existences of the real world4 ,the world of art is truer than that of history or nature4 ,nor is this all3 the representations of art are more expressive and transparent than the phenomena of the real world or the events of history4 ,the mind finds it harder to pierce through the hard envelop of nature and common life than to penetrate into works of art4 ,two more reflections appear completely to meet the objection that art or aesthetics is not entitled to the name of science4 ,it will be generally admitted that the mind of man has the power of considering itself1 of making itself its own object and all that issues from its activity2 for thought constitutes the essence of the mind4 ,now art and its work1 as creations of the mind1 are themselves of a spiritual nature4 ,in this respect art is much nearer to the mind than nature4 ,in studying the works of art the mind has to do with itself1 with what proceeds from itself1 and is itself4 ,thus art finds its highest confirmation in science4 ,nor does art refuse a philosophical treatment because it is dependent on caprice1 and subject to no law4 ,if its highest aim be to reveal to the human consciousness the highest interest of the mind1 it is evident that the substance or contents of the representations are not given up to the control of a wild and irregular imagination4 ,it is strictly determined by the ideas that concern our intelligence and by the laws of their development1 whatever may be the inexhaustible variety of forms in which they are produced4 ,nor are these forms arbitrary1 for every form is not fitted to express every idea4 ,the form is determined by the substance which it has to suit4 ,a further consideration of the true nature of beauty1 and therefore of the vocation of the artist1 will aid us still more in our endeavor to show the high dignity of art and of aesthetics4 ,the history of philosophy presents us with many theories on the nature of the beautiful2 but as it would lead us too far to examine them all1 we shall only consider the most important among them4 ,the coarsest of these theories defines the beautiful as that which pleases the senses4 ,this theory1 issuing from the philosophy of sensation of the school of ,locke and ,condillac1 only explains the idea and the feeling of the beautiful by disfiguring it4 ,it is entirely contradicted by facts4 ,for it converts it into desire1 but desire is egotistical and insatiable1 while admiration is respectful1 and is its own satisfaction without seeking possession4 ,others have thought the beautiful consists in proportion1 and no doubt this is one of the conditions of beauty1 but only one4 ,an ill-proportioned object cannot be beautiful1 but the exact correspondence of parts1 as in geometrical figures1 does not constitute beauty4 ,a noted ancient theory makes beauty consist in the perfect suitableness of means to their end4 ,in this case the beautiful is not the useful1 it is the suitable2 and the latter idea is more akin to that of beauty4 ,but it has not the true character of the beautiful4 ,again1 order is a less mathematical idea than proportion1 but it does not explain what is free and flowing in certain beauties4 ,the most plausible theory of beauty is that which makes it consist in two contrary and equally necessary elements--unity and variety4 ,a beautiful flower has all the elements we have named2 it has unity1 symmetry1 and variety of shades of color4 ,there is no beauty without life1 and life is movement1 diversity4 ,these elements are found in beautiful and also in sublime objects4 ,a beautiful object is complete1 finished1 limited with symmetrical parts4 ,a sublime object whose forms1 though not out of proportion1 are less determined1 ever awakens in us the feeling of the infinite4 ,in objects of sense all qualities that can produce the feeling of the beautiful come under one class called physical beauty4 ,but above and beyond this in the region of mind we have first intellectual beauty1 including the laws that govern intelligence and the creative genius of the artist1 the poet1 and the philosopher4 ,again1 the moral world has beauty in its ideas of liberty1 of virtue1 of devotion1 the justice of ,aristides1 the heroism of ,leonidas4 ,we have now ascertained that there is beauty and sublimity in nature1 in ideas1 in feelings1 and in actions4 ,after all this it might be supposed that a unity could be found amidst these different kinds of beauty4 ,the sight of a statue1 as the ,apollo of ,belvedere1 of a man1 of ,socrates expiring1 are adduced as producing impressions of the beautiful2 but the form cannot be a form by itself1 it must be the form of something4 ,physical beauty is the sign of an interior beauty1 a spiritual and moral beauty which is the basis1 the principle1 and the unity of the beautiful4 ,physical beauty is an envelop to intellectual and to moral beauty4 ,intellectual beauty1 the splendor of the true1 can only have for principle that of all truth4 ,moral beauty comprehends two distinct elements1 equally beautiful1 justice and charity4 ,thus ,god is the principle of the three orders of beauty1 physical1 intellectual1 and moral4 ,he also construes the two great powers distributed over the three orders1 the beautiful and the sublime4 ,god is beauty par excellence2 ,he is therefore perfectly beautiful2 ,he is equally sublime4 ,he is to us the type and sense of the two great forms of beauty4 ,in short1 the ,absolute ,being as absolute unity and absolute variety is necessarily the ultimate principle1 the extreme basis1 the finished ideal of all beauty4 ,this was the marvellous beauty which ,diotimus had seen1 and which is described in the ,banquet of ,socrates4 ,it is our purpose after the previous discussion to attempt to elucidate still further the idea of art by following its historic development4 ,many questions bearing on art and relating to the beautiful had been propounded before1 even as far back as ,plotinus1 ,plato1 and ,socrates1 but recent times have been the real cradle of aesthetics as a science4 ,modern philosophy was the first to recognize that beauty in art is one of the means by which the contradictions can be removed between mind considered in its abstract and absolute existence and nature constituting the world of sense1 bringing back these two factors to unity4 ,kant was the first who felt the want of this union and expressed it1 but without determining its conditions or expressing it scientifically4 ,he was impeded in his efforts to effect this union by the opposition between the subjective and the objective1 by his placing practical reason above theoretical reason1 and he set up the opposition found in the moral sphere as the highest principle of morality4 ,reduced to this difficulty1 all that ,kant could do was to express the union under the form of the subjective ideas of reason1 or as postulates to be deduced from the practical reason1 without their essential character being known1 and representing their realization as nothing more than a simple you ought1 or imperative ,du sollst4 ,in his teleological judgment applied to living beings1 ,kant comes1 on the contrary1 to consider the living organism in such wise that1 the general including the particular1 and determining it as an end1 consequently the idea also determines the external1 the compound of the organs1 not by an act springing from without but issuing from within4 ,in this way the end and the means1 the interior and exterior1 the general and particular1 are confounded in unity4 ,but this judgment only expresses a subjective act of reflection1 and does not throw any light on the object in itself4 ,kant has the same view of the aesthetic judgment4 ,according to him the judgment does not proceed either from reason1 as the faculty of general ideas1 or from sensuous perception1 but from the free play of the reason and of the imagination4 ,in this analysis of the cognitive faculty1 the object only exists relatively to the subject and to the feeling of pleasure or the enjoyment that it experiences4 ,the characteristics of the beautiful are1 according to ,kant3-- #a4 ,the pleasure it procures is free from interest4 #b4 ,beauty appears to us as an object of general enjoyment1 without awakening in us the consciousness of an abstract idea and of a category of reason to which we might refer our judgment4 #c4 ,beauty ought to embrace in itself the relation of conformity to its end1 but in such a way that this conformity may be grasped without the idea of the end being offered to our mind4 #d4 ,though it be not accompanied by an abstract idea1 beauty ought to be acknowledged as the object of a necessary enjoyment4 ,a special feature of all this system is the indissoluble unity of what is supposed to be separated in consciousness4 ,this distinction disappears in the beautiful1 because in it the general and the particular1 the end and the means1 the idea and the object1 mentally penetrate each other completely4 ,the particular in itself1 whether it be opposed to itself or to what is general1 is something accidental4 ,but here what may be considered as an accidental form is so intimately connected with the general that it is confounded and identified with it4 ,by this means the beautiful in art presents thought to us as incarnate4 ,on the other hand1 matter1 nature1 the sensuous as themselves possessing measure1 end1 and harmony1 are raised to the dignity of spirit and share in its general character4 ,thought not only abandons its hostility against nature1 but smiles in her4 ,sensation and enjoyment are justified and sanctified1 so that nature and liberty1 sense and ideas1 find their justification and their sanctification in this union4 ,nevertheless this reconciliation1 though seemingly perfect1 is stricken with the character of subjectiveness4 ,it cannot constitute the absolutely true and real4 ,such is an outline of the principal results of ,kant's criticism1 and ,hegel passes high praise on the profoundly philosophic mind of ,schiller1 who demanded the union and reconciliation of the two principles1 and who tried to give a scientific explanation of it before the problem had been solved by philosophy4 ,in his ,letters on ,aesthetic ,education1 ,schiller admits that man carries in himself the germ of the ideal man which is realized and represented by the state4 ,there are two ways for the individual man to approach the ideal man2 first1 when the state1 considered as morality1 justice1 and general reason1 absorbs the individualities in its unity2 secondly1 when the individual rises to the ideal of his species by the perfecting of himself4 ,reason demands unity1 conformity to the species2 nature1 on the other hand1 demands plurality and individuality2 and man is at once solicited by two contrary laws4 ,in this conflict1 aesthetic education must come in to effect the reconciliation of the two principles2 for1 according to ,schiller1 it has as its end to fashion and polish the inclinations and passions so that they may become reasonable1 and that1 on the other hand1 reason and freedom may issue from their abstract character1 may unite with nature1 may spiritualize it1 become incarnate1 and take a body in it4 ,beauty is thus given as the simultaneous development of the rational and of the sensuous1 fused together1 and interpenetrated one by the other1 an union that constitutes in fact true reality4 ,this unity of the general and of the particular1 of liberty and necessity of the spiritual and material1 which ,schiller understood scientifically as the spirit of art1 and which he tried to make appear in real life by aesthetic art and education1 was afterwards put forward under the name of idea as the principle of all knowledge and existence4 ,in this way1 through the agency of ,schelling1 science raised itself to an absolute point of view4 ,it was thus that art began to claim its proper nature and dignity4 ,from that time its proper place was finally marked out for it in science1 though the mode of viewing it still labored under certain defects4 ,its high and true distinction were at length understood4 ,in viewing the higher position to which recent philosophical systems have raised the theory of art in ,germany1 we must not overlook the advantages contributed by the study of the ideal of the ancients by such men as ,winckelmann1 who1 by a kind of inspiration1 raised art criticism from a carping about petty details to seek the true spirit of great works of art1 and their true ideas1 by a study of the spirit of the originals4 ,it has appeared expedient to conclude this introduction with a summary of the latest and highest theory of art and aesthetics issuing from ,kant and ,schiller1 and developed in the later philosophy of ,hegel4 ,our space only allows us to give a glance1 first1 at the metaphysics of the beautiful as developed by ,hegel in the first part of his ',aesthetik1' and then at the later development of the same system in recent writers issuing from his school4 ,hegel considers1 first1 the abstract idea of the beautiful2 secondly1 beauty in nature2 thirdly1 beauty in art or the ideal2 and he winds up with an examination of the qualities of the artist4 ,his preliminary remarks are directed to show the relations of art to religion and philosophy1 and he shows that man's destination is an infinite development4 ,in real life he only satisfies his longing partially and imperfectly by limited enjoyments4 ,in science he finds a nobler pleasure1 and civil life opens a career for his activity2 but he only finds an imperfect pleasure in these pursuits4 ,he cannot then find the ideal after which he sighs4 ,then he rises to a higher sphere1 where all contradictions are effaced and the ideas of good and happiness are realized in perfect accord and in constant harmony4 ,this deep want of the soul is satisfied in three ways3 in art1 in religion1 and in philosophy4 ,art is intended to make us contemplate the true and the infinite in forms of sense4 ,yet even art does not fully satisfy the deepest need of the soul4 ,the soul wants to contemplate truth in its inmost consciousness4 ,religion is placed above the dominion of art4 ,first1 as to idea of the beautiful1 ,hegel begins by giving its characteristics4 ,it is infinite1 and it is free2 the contemplation of the beautiful suffices to itself1 it awakens no desire4 ,the soul experiences something like a godlike felicity and is transported into a sphere remote from the miseries of life4 ,this theory of the beautiful comes very near that of ,plato4 ,secondly1 as to beauty in nature4 ,physical beauty1 considered externally1 presents itself successively under the aspects of regularity and of symmetry1 of conformity with a law1 and of harmony1 also of purity and simplicity of matter4 ,thirdly1 beauty in art or the ideal is beauty in a higher degree of perfection than real beauty4 ,the ideal in art is not contrary to the real1 but the real idealized1 purified1 and perfectly expressed4 ,the ideal is also the soul arrived at the consciousness of itself1 free and fully enjoying its faculties2 it is life1 but spiritual life and spirit4 ,nor is the ideal a cold abstraction1 it is the spiritual principle under the form of a living individuality freed from the laws of the finite4 ,the ideal in its highest form is the divine1 as expressed in the ,greek divinities2 the ,christian ideal1 as expressed in all its highest purity in ,god the ,father1 the ,christ1 the ,virgin4 ,its essential features are calm1 majesty1 serenity4 ,at a lower degree the ideal is in man the victory of the eternal principles that fill the human heart1 the triumph of the nobler part of the soul1 the moral and divine principle4 ,but the ideal manifested in the world becomes action1 and action implies a form of society1 a determinate situation with collision1 and an action properly so called4 ,the heroic age is the best society for the ideal in action2 in its determinate situation the ideal in action must appear as the manifestation of moral power1 and in action1 properly so called1 it must contain three points in the ideal3 first1 general principles2 secondly1 personages2 thirdly1 their character and their passions4 ,hegel winds up by considering the qualities necessary in an artist3 imagination1 genius1 inspiration1 originality1 etc4 ,a recent exponent of ,hegel's aesthetical ideas further developed expresses himself thus on the nature of beauty3-- ,after the bitterness of the world1 the sweetness of art soothes and refreshes us4 ,this is the high value of the beautiful--that it solves the contradiction of mind and matter1 of the moral and sensuous world1 in harmony4 ,thus the beautiful and its representation in art procures for intuition what philosophy gives to the cognitive insight and religion to the believing frame of mind4 ,hence the delight with which ,schiller's wonderful poem on the ,bell celebrates the accord of the inner and outer life1 the fulfilment of the longing and demands of the soul by the events in nature4 ,the externality of phenomena is removed in the beautiful2 it is raised into the circle of ideal existence2 for it is recognized as the revelation of the ideal1 and thus transfigured it gives to the latter additional splendor4 ,thus the beautiful is active1 living unity1 full existence without defect1 as ,plato and ,schelling have said1 or as recent writers describe it2 the idea that is quite present in the appearance1 the appearance which is quite formed and penetrated by the idea4 ,beauty is the world secret that invites us in image and word1 is the poetical expression of ,plato2 and we may add1 because it is revealed in both4 ,we feel in it the harmony of the world2 it breaks forth in a beauty1 in a lovely accord1 in a radiant point1 and starting thence we penetrate further and yet further1 and find as the ground of all existence the same charm which had refreshed us in individual forms4 ,thus ,christ pointed to the lilies of the field to knit ,his followers' reliance on ,providence with the phenomena of nature3 and could they jet forth in royal beauty1 exceeding that of ,solomon1 if the inner ground of nature were not beauty8 ,we may also name beauty in a certain sense a mystery1 as it mediates to us in a sensuous sign a heavenly gift of grace1 that it opens to us a view into the eternal ,being1 teaching us to know nature in ,god and ,god in nature1 that it brings the divine even to the perception of sense1 and establishes the energy of love and freedom as the ground1 the bond1 and the end of the world4 ,in the midst of the temporal the eternal is made palpable and present to us in the beautiful1 and offers itself to our enjoyment4 ,the separation is suppressed1 and the original unity1 as it is in ,god1 appears as the first1 as what holds together even the past in the universe1 and what constitutes the aim of the development in a finite accord4 ,the beautiful not only presents itself to us as mediator of a foreign excellence or of a remote divinity1 but the ideal and the godlike are present in it4 ,hence aesthetics requires as its basis the system in which ,god is known as indwelling in the world1 that ,he is not far distant from any one of us1 but that ,he animates us1 and that we live in ,him4 ,aesthetics requires the knowledge that mind is the creative force and unity of all that is extended and developed in time and space4 ,the beautiful is thus1 according to these later thinkers1 the revelation of ,god to the mind through the senses2 it is the appearance of the idea4 ,in the beautiful spirit reveals itself to spirit through matter and the senses2 thus the entire man feels himself raised and satisfied by it4 ,by the unity of the beautiful with us we experience with delight that thought and the material world are present for our individuality1 that they utter tones and shine forth in it1 that both penetrate each other and blend in it and thus become one with it4 ,we feel one with them and one in them4 ,this later view was to a great extent expressed by ,schiller in his ,aesthetical ,letters4 ,but art and aesthetics1 in the sense in which these terms are used and understood by ,german philosophical writers1 such as ,schiller1 embrace a wider field than the fine arts4 ,lessing1 in his ,laocoon1 had already shown the point of contrast between painting and poetry2 and aesthetics1 being defined as the science of the beautiful1 must of necessity embrace poetry4 ,accordingly ,schiller's essays on tragic art1 pathos1 and sentimental poetry1 contained in this volume1 are justly classed under his aesthetical writings4 ,this being so1 it is important to estimate briefly the transitions of ,german poetry before ,schiller1 and the position that he occupied in its historic development4 ,the first classical period of ,german poetry and literature was contained between ,a4 ,d4 #aaij and #acjj4 ,it exhibits the intimate blending of the ,german and ,christian elements1 and their full development in splendid productions1 for this was the period of the ,german national epos1 the ,nibelungenlied1 and of the ,minnegesang4 ,this was a period which has nothing to compare with it in point of art and poetry1 save perhaps1 and that imperfectly1 the heroic and post-,homeric age of early ,greece4 ,the poetical efforts of that early age may be grouped under--7#a7 national epos3 the ,nibelungenlied2 7#b7 art epos3 the ,rolandslied1 ,percival1 etc42 7#c7 the introduction of antique legends3 ,veldeck's ,aeneide1 and ,konrad's ,war of ,troy2 7#d7 ,christian legends ,barlaam1 ,sylvester1 ,pilatus1 etc42 7#e7 poetical narratives3 ,crescentia1 ,graf ,rudolf1 etc42 7#f7 animal legends2 ,reinecke ,vos2 7#g7 didactic poems3 ,der ,renner2 7#h7 the ,minne-poetry1 and prose4 ,the fourth group1 though introduced from a foreign source1 gives the special character and much of the charm of the period we consider4 ,this is the sphere of legends derived from ecclesiastical ground4 ,one of the best ,german writers on the history of ,german literature remarks3 ,if the aim and nature of all poetry is to let yourself be filled by a subject and to become penetrated with it2 if the simple representation of unartificial1 true1 and glowing feelings belongs to its most beautiful adornments2 if the faithful direction of the heart to the invisible and eternal is the ground on which at all times the most lovely flowers of poetry have sprouted forth1 these legendary poems of early ,germany1 in their lovely heartiness1 in their unambitious limitation1 and their pious sense1 deserve a friendly acknowledgment4 ,what man has considered the pious images in the prayer-books of the ,middle ,ages1 the unadorned innocence1 the piety and purity1 the patience of the martyrs1 the calm1 heavenly transparency of the figures of the holy angels1 without being attracted by the simple innocence and humility of these forms1 the creation of pious artists' hands8 ,who has beheld them without tranquil joy at the soft splendor poured1 over them1 without deep sympathy1 nay1 without a certain emotion and tenderness8 ,and the same spirit that created these images also produced those poetical effusions1 the same spirit of pious belief1 of deep devotion1 of heavenly longing4 ,if we make a present reality of the heroic songs of the early ,german popular poetry1 and the chivalrous epics of the art poetry1 the military expeditions and dress of the ,crusades1 this legendary poetry appears as the invention of humble pilgrims1 who wander slowly on the weary way to ,jerusalem1 with scollop and pilgrim's staff1 engaged in quiet prayer1 till they are all to kneel at the ,saviour's sepulchre2 and thus contented1 after touching the holy earth with their lips1 they return1 poor as they were1 but full of holy comfort1 to their distant home4 ,while the knightly poetry is the poetry of the splendid secular life1 full of cheerful joy1 full of harp-tones and song1 full of tournaments and joyous festivals1 the poetry of the earthly love for the earthly bride1 the poetry of the legends is that of the spontaneous life of poverty1 the poetry of the solitary cloister cell1 of the quiet1 well-walled convent garden1 the poetry of heavenly brides1 who without lamenting the joys of the world1 which they need not1 have their joy in their ,saviour in tranquil piety and devout resignation--who attend at the espousals of ,anna and ,joachim1 sing the ,magnificat with the ,holy ,mother of ,god1 stand weeping beneath the cross1 to be pierced also by the sword1 who hear the angel harp with ,st4 ,cecilia1 and walk with ,st4 ,theresa in the glades of ,paradise4 ,while the ,minne-poetry was the tender homage offered to the beauty1 the gentleness1 the grace1 and charm of noble women of this world1 legendary poetry was the homage given to the ,virgin ,mother1 the ,queen of ,heaven1 transfiguring earthly love into a heavenly and eternal love4 ,for the twelfth and thirteenth centuries were the time of woman cultus1 such as has never been before or since seen2 it is also the time of the deepest and simplest and truest1 most enthusiastic and faithful veneration of the ,virgin ,mary4 ,if we1 by a certain effort1 manage to place ourselves back on the standpoint of childlike poetic faith of that time1 and set aside in thought the materializing and exaggeration of the hagiology and ,mariolatry produced by later centuries1 rendering the reaction of the ,reformation unavoidable--if now in our age1 turned exclusively to logical ideas and a negative dialectic1 we live again by thought in those ages of feeling and poetry--if we acknowledge all these things to be something more than harmless play of words and fancy1 and as the true lifelike contents of the period1 then we can properly appreciate this legendary poetry as a necessary link in the crown of pearls of our ancient poetry4 ,in short1 the first classical period of ,german literature was a time of youthful freshness1 of pure harmony1 plunged in verse and song1 full of the richest tones and the noblest rhythm1 so that rhyme and song alone must be looked for as the form of poetic creations4 ,accordingly it had no proper prose4 ,like our own youth1 it was a happy1 free1 and true youth1 it knew no prose2 like us it dreamed to speechless songs2 and as we expressed our youthful language and hopes1 woes and joys1 in rhyme and song1 thus a whole people and age had its beautiful youth full of song and verse tones4 ,the life was poetry and poetry was the life4 ,then came degeneracy and artifice2 after that the great shock of the ,reformation2 subsequently a servile and pedantic study of classical forms without imbibing their spirit1 but preparing the way for a truer art spirit1 extracted from their study by the masterly criticism of ,winckelmann and ,lessing1 till the second classical period of ,german literature and poetry bloomed forth in full beauty1 blending the national and legendary elements so well expressed by ,herder with the highest effusions of dramatic poetry1 partly creative and partly imitative of the ,greek models1 in ,schiller and ,goethe4 ,modern ,german literature presents a very remarkable spectacle1 though far from unique in history1 for there we see criticism begetting genius4 ,lessing1 the founder of the modern ,german drama1 sought to banish all pomp from the theatre1 and in doing so some critics have thought that he banished the ideal and fell into affectation4 ,at any rate1 his ,dramaturgy is full of original ideas1 and when he drew out the sphere of poetry contrasted with that of painting in his ,laocoon1 all ,germany resounded with his praise4 ,with that delight1 says ,goethe1 we saluted this luminous ray which a thinker of the first order caused to break forth from its clouds4 ,it is necessary to have all the fire of youth to conceive the effect produced on us by the ',laocoon' of ,lessing4 ,another great contemporary1 whose name is imperishable as that of art1 struck a mortal blow at a false taste in the study of the antique4 ,winckelmann questioned the works of the ,greek chisel with an intelligence full of love1 and initiated his countrymen into poetry by a feeling for sculpture6 ,what an enthusiasm he displayed for classical beauty6 what a worship of the form6 what a fervor of paganism is found in its eloquent pages when he also comments on the admirable group of the ,laocoon1 or the still purer masterpiece of the ,apollo of ,belvedere4 ,these men were the vanguard of the great ,germanic army2 ,schiller and ,goethe alone formed its main column4 ,in them ,german poetry shows itself in its perfection1 and completely realizes the ideal designed for it by the critic4 ,every factitious precept and conventional law was now overthrown2 these poetical ,protestants broke away entirely from the yoke of tradition4 ,yet their genius was not without a rule4 ,every work bears in itself the organic laws of its development4 ,thus1 although they laugh at the famous precept of the three unities1 it is because they dig still deeper down to the root of things1 to grasp the true principle from which the precept issued4 ,men have not understood1 said ,goethe1 the basis of this law4 ,the law of the comprehensive--'das ,fassliche'--is the principle2 and the three unities have only value as far as they attain it4 ,when they become an obstacle to the comprehension it is madness to wish to observe them4 ,the ,greeks themselves1 from whom the rule is derived1 did not always follow it4 ,in the ',phaeton' of ,euripides1 and in other pieces1 there was change1 place2 accordingly they prefer to give a perfect exposition of their subject1 rather than blindly respect a law never very essential in itself4 ,the pieces of ,shakspeare violate in the highest degree the unity of time and of place2 but they are full of comprehensiveness2 nothing is easier to grasp1 and for that reason they would have found favor with the ,greeks4 ,the ,french poets tried to obey exactly the law of the three unities2 but they violate the law of comprehensiveness1 as they do not expound dramatic subjects by dramas but by recitals4 ,poetical creation was therefore viewed as free1 but at the same time responsible4 ,immediately1 as if fecundity were the reward of correctness1 the ,german theatre became filled with true and living characters4 ,the stage widens under their steps that they may have room to move4 ,history with its great proportions and its terrible lessons1 is now able to take place on the stage4 ,the whole ,thirty ,years' ,war passes before us in ,wallenstein4 ,we hear the tumult of camps1 the disorder of a fanatical and undisciplined army1 peasants1 recruits1 sutlers1 soldiers4 ,the illusion is complete1 and enthusiasm breaks out among the spectators4 ,similar merits attach to many other of ,schiller's plays4 ,this new drama1 which seemed to give all to the natural sphere1 concedes still more to the ideal4 ,an able critic has said the details which are the truth of history are also its poetry4 ,here the ,german school professes a principle of the highest learning1 and one that seems to be borrowed from its profoundest philosophers2 it is that of the universal beauty of life1 of the identity of beauty and existence4 ,our aesthetics1 says ,goethe1 speak a great deal of poetical or antipoetical subjects2 fundamentally there is no subject that has not its poetry2 it is for the poet to find it there4 ,schiller and ,goethe divide the empire over modern ,german poetry1 and represent its two principal powers2 the one1 ,schiller1 impassioned and lyrical1 pours his soul over all the subjects he touches2 in him every composition1 ode1 or drama is always one of his noble ideas1 borrowing its dress and ornament from the external world4 ,he is a poet especially through the heart1 by the force with which he rushes in and carries you with him4 ,goethe is especially an epic2 no doubt he paints the passions with admirable truth1 but he commands them2 like the god of the seas in ,virgil1 he raises above the angry waves his calm and sublime forehead4 ,after this glance at the position and chief characteristics of ,schiller1 it may be useful to offer a few remarks on those of the principal works in this volume1 his ,aesthetical ,letters and ,essays4 ,schiller1 in his ,aesthetical ,essays1 did not choose the pure abstract method of deduction and conception like ,kant1 nor the historical like ,herder1 who strove thus to account for the genesis of our ideas of beauty and art4 ,he struck out a middle path1 which presents certain deficiencies to the advocates of either of these two systems4 ,he leans upon ,kantian ideas1 but without scholastic constraint4 ,pure speculation1 which seeks to set free the form from all contents and matter1 was remote from his creative genius1 to which the world of matter and sense was no hinderance1 but a necessary envelop for his forms4 ,his removal to ,jena in #agia1 and acquaintance with ,reinhold1 familiarized him with the ,kantian philosophy1 but he only appreciated it by halves4 ,the bare and bald dealing with fundamental principles was at this time equally repulsive to ,goethe and ,schiller1 the man of the world and the man of life4 ,but ,schiller did not find anywhere at that time justice done to the dignity of art1 or honor to the substantial value of beauty4 ,the ,aesthetical ,essays in this volume appeared for the most part since #agib1 in the ,thalia and the ,hours periodicals4 ,the first ,on the ,ground of our ,pleasure in ,tragic ,subjects 7#agib71 applies ,kantian principles of the sublime to tragedy1 and shows ,schiller's lofty estimate of this class of poetry4 ,with ,kant he shows that the source of all pleasure is suitableness2 the touching and sublime elicit this feeling1 implying the existence of unsuitableness4 ,in this article he makes the aim and source of art to consist in giving enjoyment1 in pleasing4 ,to nature pleasure is a mediate object1 to art its main object4 ,the same proposition appears in ,schiller's paper on ,tragic ,art 7#agib71 closely connected with the former4 ,this article contains views of the affection of pity that seem to approximate the ,aristotelian propositions about tragedy4 ,his views on the sublime are expressed in two papers1 ,the ,sublime and ,the ,pathetic1 in which we trace considerable influence of ,lessing and ,winckelmann4 ,he is led especially to strong antagonism against the ,french tragedy1 and he indulges in a lengthy consideration of the passage of ,virgil on ,laocoon1 showing the necessity of suffering and the pathetic in connection with moral adaptations to interest us deeply4 ,all these essays bespeak the poet who has tried his hand at tragedy1 but in his next paper1 ,on ,grace and ,dignity1 we trace more of the moralist4 ,those passages where he takes up a medium position between sense and reason1 between ,goethe and ,kant1 are specially attractive4 ,the theme of this paper is the conception of grace1 or the expression of a beautiful soul and dignity1 or that of a lofty mind4 ,the idea of grace has been developed more deeply and truly by ,schiller than by ,wieland or ,winckelmann1 but the special value of the paper is its constantly pointing to the ideal of a higher humanity4 ,in it he does full justice to the sensuous and to the moral1 and commencing with the beautiful nature of the ,greeks1 to whom sense was never mere sense1 nor reason mere reason1 he concludes with an image of perfected humanity in which grace and dignity are united1 the former by architectonic beauty 7structure71 the last supported by power4 ,the following year1 #agie1 appeared his most important contribution to aesthetics1 in his ,aesthetical ,letters4 ,in these letters he remarks that beauty is the work of free contemplation1 and we enter with it into the world of ideas1 but without leaving the world of sense4 ,beauty is to us an object1 and yet at the same time a state of our subjectivity1 because the feeling of the conditional is under that which we have of it4 ,beauty is a form because we consider it1 and life because we feel it2 in a word1 it is at once our state and our art4 ,and exactly because it is both it serves us as a triumphant proof that suffering does not exclude activity1 nor matter form1 nor limitation the infinite1 for in the enjoyment of beauty both natures are united1 and by this is proved the capacity of the infinite to be developed in the finite1 and accordingly the possibility of the sublimest humanity4 ,the free play of the faculty of cognition which had been determined by ,kant is also developed by ,schiller4 ,his representation of this matter is this3 ,man1 as a spirit1 is reason and will1 self-active1 determining1 form-giving2 this is described by ,schiller as the form-instinct2 man1 as a sensuous being1 is determinable1 receptive1 termed to matter2 ,schiller describes this as the material instinct1 ,stofftrieb4 ,in the midst between these two is situated the beautiful1 in which reason and the sensuous penetrate each other1 and their enjoyable product is designated by ,schiller the play instinct4 ,this expression is not happily chosen4 ,schiller means to describe by it the free play of the forces1 activity according to nature1 which is at once a joy and a happiness2 he reminds us of the life of ,olympus1 and adds3 ,man is only quite a man when he plays4 ,personality is that which lasts1 the state of feeling is the changeable in man2 he is the fixed unity remaining eternally himself in the floods of change4 ,man in contact with the world is to take it up in himself1 but to unite with it the highest freedom and independence1 and1 instead of being lost in the world1 to subject it to his reason4 ,it is only by his being independent that there is reality out of him2 only by being susceptible of feeling that there is reality in him4 ,the object of sensuous instinct is life2 that of the purer instinct figure2 living figure or beauty is the object of the play instinct4 ,only inasmuch as life is formed in the understanding and form in feeling does life win a form and form win life1 and only thus does beauty arise4 ,by beauty the sensuous man is led up to reason1 the one-sided tension of special force is strung to harmony1 and man made a complete whole4 ,schiller adds that beauty knits together thought and feeling2 the fullest unity of spirit and matter4 ,its freedom is not lack1 but harmony1 of laws2 its conditions are not exclusions1 inclusion of all infinity determined in itself4 ,a true work of art generates lofty serenity and freedom of mind4 ,thus the aesthetic disposition bestows on us the highest of all gifts1 that of a disposition to humanity1 and we may call beauty our second creator4 ,in these letters ,schiller spoke out the mildest and highest sentiments on art1 and in his paper on ,simple and ,sentimental ,poetry 7#agie7 he constructs the ideal of the perfect poet4 ,this is by far the most fruitful of ,schiller's essays in its results4 ,it has much that is practically applicable1 and contains a very able estimate of ,german poetry4 ,the writing is also very pointed and telling1 because it is based upon actual perceptions1 and it is interesting because the contrast drawn out throughout it between the simple and the sentimental has been referred to his own contrast with ,goethe4 ,he also wished to vindicate modern poetry1 which ,goethe seemed to wish to sacrifice to the antique4 ,the sentimental poetry is the fruit of quiet and retirement2 simple poetry the child of life4 ,one is a favor of nature2 the sentimental depends on itself1 the simple on the world of experience4 ,the sentimental is in danger of extending the limits of human nature too far1 of being too ideal1 too mystical4 ,neither character exhausts the ideal of humanity1 but the intimate union of both4 ,both are founded in human nature2 the contradictions lying at their basis1 when cleared in thought from the poetical faculty1 are realism and idealism4 ,these also are sides of human nature1 which1 when unconnected1 bring forth disastrous results4 ,their opposition is as old as the beginning of culture1 and till its end can hardly be set aside1 save in the individual4 ,the idealist is a nobler but a far less perfect being2 the realist appears far less noble1 but is more perfect1 for the noble lies in the proof of a great capacity1 but the perfect in the general attitude of the whole and in the real facts4 ,on the whole it may be said1 taking a survey of these labors1 that if ,schiller had developed his ideas systematically and the unity of his intuition of the world1 which were present in his feelings1 and if he had based them scientifically1 a new epoch in philosophy might have been anticipated4 ,for he had obtained a view of such a future field of thought with the deep clairvoyance of his genius4 ,a few words may be desirable on ,schiller's religious standpoint1 especially in connection with his philosophical letters4 ,schiller came up ten years later than ,goethe1 and concluded the cyclus of genius that ,goethe had inaugurated4 ,but as he was the last arrival of that productive period of tempestuous agitation1 he retained more of its elements in his later life and poetry than any others who had passed through earlier agitations1 such as ,goethe4 ,for ,goethe cast himself free in a great measure from the early intoxication of his youthful imagination1 devoting himself partly to nobler matter and partly to purer forms4 ,schiller derived from the stormy times of his youth his direction to the ideal1 to the hostility against the narrow spirit of civil relations1 and to all given conditions of society in general4 ,he derived from it his disposition1 not to let himself be moulded by matter1 but to place his own creative and determining impress on matter1 not so much to grasp reality poetically and represent it poetically as to cast ideas into reality1 a disposition for lively representation and strong oratorical coloring4 ,all this he derived from the genial period1 though later on somewhat modified1 and carried it over into his whole life and poetry2 and for this very reason he is not only together with ,goethe1 but before ,goethe1 the favorite poet of the nation1 and especially with that part of the nation which sympathizes with him in the choice of poetic material and in his mode of feeling4 ,gervinus remarks that ,schiller had at ,weimar long fallen off from ,christianity1 and occupied his mind tranquilly for a time with the views of ,spinoza 7realistic pantheism74 ,like ,herder and ,goethe1 he viewed life in its great entirety and sacrificed the individual to the species4 ,accordingly1 through the gods of ,greece1 he fell out with strict1 orthodox ,christians4 ,but ,schiller had deeply religious and even ,christian elements1 as became a ,german and a ,kantian4 ,he receives the ,godhead in ,his will1 and ,he descends from ,his throne1 ,he dwells in his soul2 the poet sees divine revelations1 and as a seer announces them to man4 ,he is a moral educator of his people1 who utters the tones of life in his poetry from youth upwards4 ,philosophy was not disclosed to ,plato in the highest and purest thought1 nor is poetry to ,schiller merely an artificial edifice in the harmony of speech2 philosophy and poetry are to both a vibration of love in the soul upwards to ,god1 a liberation from the bonds of sense1 a purification of man1 a moral art4 ,on this reposes the religious consecration of the ,platonic spirit and of that of ,schiller4 ,issuing from the philosophical school of ,kant1 and imbued with the antagonism of the age against constituted authorities1 it is natural that ,schiller should be a rationalist in his religious views4 ,it has been justly said of him that while ,goethe's system was an apotheosis of nature ,schiller's was an apotheosis of man4 ,historically he was not prepared enough to test and search the question of evidence as applied to divine things handed down by testimony1 and his ,kantian coloring naturally disposed him to include all religions within the limits of pure reason1 and to seek it rather in the subject than in anything objective4 ,in conclusion1 we may attempt to classify and give ,schiller his place in the progress of the world's literary history4 ,progress is no doubt a law of the individual1 of nations1 and of the whole race4 ,to grow in perfection1 to exist in some sort at a higher degree1 is the task imposed by ,god on man1 the continuation of the very work of ,god1 the complement of creation4 ,but this moral growth1 this need of increase1 may1 like all the forces of nature1 yield to a greater force2 it is an impulsion rather than a necessity2 it solicits and does not constrain4 ,a thousand obstacles stay its development in individuals and in societies2 moral liberty may retard or accelerate its effects4 ,progress is therefore a law which cannot be abrogated1 but which is not invariably obeyed4 ,nevertheless1 in proportion to the increase of the mass of individuals1 the caprices of chance and of liberty neutralize each other to allow the providential action that presides over our destinies to prevail4 ,looking at the same total of the life of the world1 humanity undoubtedly advances3 there are in our time fewer moral miseries1 fewer physical miseries1 than were known in the past4 ,consequently art and literature1 which express the different states of society1 must share in some degree in this progressive march4 ,but there are two things in literary work3 on the one hand the ideas and social manners which it expresses1 on the other the intelligence1 the feeling1 the imagination of the writer who becomes its interpreter4 ,while the former of these elements tends incessantly to a greater perfection1 the latter is subject to all the hazards of individual genius4 ,accordingly the progressive literature is only in the inspiration1 and so to speak in the matter2 it may and must therefore not be continuous in form4 ,but more than this3 in very advanced societies the very grandeur of ideas1 the abundance of models1 the satiety of the public render the task of the artist more and more difficult4 ,the artist himself has no longer the enthusiasm of the first ages1 the youth of imagination and of the heart2 he is an old man whose riches have increased1 but who enjoys his wealth less4 ,if all the epochs of literature are considered as a whole it will be seen that they succeed each other in a constant order4 ,after the period when the idea and the form combined in a harmonious manner comes another where the social idea is superabundant1 and destroys the literary form of the preceding epoch4 ,the middle ages introduced spiritualism in art2 before this new idea the smiling untruths of ,greek poetry fled away frightened4 ,the classical form so beautiful1 so pure1 cannot contain high ,catholic thought4 ,a new art is formed2 on this side the ,alps it does not reach the maturity that produces masterpieces4 ,but at that time all ,europe was one fatherland2 ,italy completes what is lacking in ,france and elsewhere4 ,the renaissance introduces new ideas into civilization2 it resuscitates the traditions of antique science and seeks to unite them to the truths of ,christianity4 ,the art of the middle ages1 as a vessel of too limited capacity1 is broken by the new flood poured into it4 ,these different ideas are stirred up and in conflict in the sixteenth century2 they became co-ordinate and attain to an admirable expression in the following age4 ,in the eighteenth century there is a new invasion of ideas2 all is examined and questioned2 religion1 government1 society1 all becomes a matter of discussion for the school called philosophical4 ,poetry appeared dying out1 history drying up1 till a truer spirit was breathed into the literary atmosphere by the criticism of ,lessing1 the philosophy of ,kant1 and the poetry of ,klopstock4 ,it was at this transition period that ,schiller appeared1 retaining throughout his literary career much of the revolutionary and convulsive spirit of his early days1 and faithfully reflecting much of the dominant ,german philosophy of his time4 ,part of the nineteenth century seems to take in hand the task of reconstructing the moral edifice and of giving back to thought a larger form4 ,the literary result of its effects is the renaissance of lyrical poetry with an admirable development in history4 ,schiller's most brilliant works were in the former walk1 his histories have inferior merit1 and his philosophical writings bespeak a deep thinking nature with great originality of conception1 such as naturally results from a combination of high poetic inspiration with much intellectual power4 ,schiller1 like all great men of genius1 was a representative man of his country and of his age4 ,a ,german1 a ,protestant free-thinker1 a worshipper of the classical1 he was the expression of these aspects of national and general thought4 ,the religious reformation was the work of the ,north4 ,the instinct of races came in it to complicate the questions of dogmas4 ,the awakening of individual nationalities was one of the characters of the epoch4 ,the nations compressed in the severe unity of the ,middle ,ages escaped in the ,reformation from the uniform mould that had long enveloped them1 and tended to that other unity1 still very distant1 which must spring from the spontaneous view of the same truth by all men1 result from the free and original development of each nation1 and1 as in a vast concert1 unite harmonious dissonances4 ,europe1 without being conscious of its aim1 seized greedily at the means--insurrection2 the only thought was to overthrow1 without yet thinking of a reconstruction4 ,the sixteenth century was the vanguard of the eighteenth4 ,at all times the ,north had fretted under the antipathetic yoke of the ,south4 ,under the ,romans1 ,germany1 though frequently conquered1 had never been subdued4 ,she had invaded the ,empire and determined its fall4 ,in the ,middle ,ages the struggle had continued2 not only instincts1 but ideas1 were in conflict2 force and spirit1 violence and polity1 feudalism and the ,catholic hierarchy1 hereditary and elective forms1 represented the opposition of two races4 ,in the sixteenth century the schism long anticipated took place4 ,the ,catholic dogma had hitherto triumphed over all outbreaks-- over ,arnaldo of ,brescia1 the ,waldenses1 and ,wickliffe4 ,but ,luther appeared1 and the work was accomplished3 ,catholic unity was broken4 ,and this breaking with authority went on fermenting in the nations till its last great outburst at the ,french ,revolution2 and ,schiller was born at this convulsive period1 and bears strong traces of his parentage in his anti-dogmatic spirit4 ,yet there is another side to ,germanism which is prone to the ideal and the mystical1 and bears still the trace of those lovely legends of mediaeval growth to which we have adverted4 ,for ,christianity was not a foreign and antagonistic importation in ,germany2 rather1 the ,german character obtained its completeness through ,christianity4 ,the ,german found himself again in the ,church of ,christ1 only raised1 transfigured1 and sanctified4 ,the apostolic representation of the ,church as the bride of ,christ has found its fullest and truest correspondence in that of ,germany4 ,hence when the ,german spirit was thoroughly espoused to the ,christian spirit1 we find that character of love1 tenderness1 and depth so characteristic of the early classics of ,german poetry1 and reappearing in glorious afterglow in the second classics1 in ,klopstock1 ,herder1 and1 above all1 ,schiller4 ,it is this special instinct for the ideal and mystical in ,german nature that has enabled spirits born of negation and revolution1 like ,schiller1 to unite with those elements the most genial and creative inspirations of poetry4 ,,vocabulary ,,of ,,terminology4 ,absolute1 ,the4 ,a conception1 or1 more strictly1 in ,kantian language1 an idea of the pure reason1 embracing the fundamental and necessary yet free ground of all things4 ,antinomy4 ,the conflict of the laws of pure reason2 as in the question of free will and necessity4 ,autonomy 7autonomous74 ,governing itself by the spontaneous action of free will4 ,aesthetics4 ,the science of beauty2 as ethics of duty4 ,cognition 7knowledge2 ,germanice1 ,erkenntniss7 is either an intuition or a conception4 ,the former has an immediate relation to the object1 and is singular and individual2 the latter has but a mediate relation1 by means of a characteristic mark1 which may be common to several things4 ,cognition is an objective perception4 ,conception4 ,a conception is either empirical or pure4 ,a pure conception1 in so far as it has its origin in the understanding alone1 and is not the conception of a pure sensuous image1 is called notio4 ,conceptions are distinguished on the one hand from sensation and perception1 and on the other hand from the intuitions of pure reason or ideas4 ,they are distinctly the product of thought and of the understanding1 except when quite free from empirical elements4 ,feeling 7,gefuehl74 ,that part of our nature which relates to passion and instinct4 ,feelings are connected both with our sensuous nature1 our imagination1 and the pure reason4 ,form4 ,see ,matter4 ,ideas4 ,the product of the pure reason 7,vernunft7 or intuitive faculty4 ,wherever the absolute is introduced in thought we have ideas4 ,perfection in all its aspects is an idea1 virtue and wisdom in their perfect purity and ideas4 ,kant remarks 7,critique of ,pure ,reason1 ,meiklejohn's translation1 p4 #bef73 ,it is from the understanding alone that pure and transcendental conceptions take their origin2 the reason does not properly give birth to any conception1 but only frees the conception of the understanding from the unavoidable limitation of possible experience4 ,a conception formed from notions which transcend the possibility of experience is an idea or a conception of reason4 ,intuition 7,anschauung7 as used by ,kant1 is external or internal4 ,external1 sensuous intuition is identical with perception2 internal intuition gives birth to ideas4 ,matter and ,form4 ,these two conceptions are at the foundation of all other reflection1 being inseparably connected with every mode of exercising the understanding4 ,by the former is implied that which can be determined in general2 the second implies its determination1 both in a transcendental sense1 abstraction being made of any difference in that which is given1 and of the mode in which it is determined4 ,that which in the phenomenon corresponds to the sensation1 ,i term its matter2 but that which effects that the content of the phenomenon can be arranged under certain relations1 ,i call its form4--,kant1 ,critique1 op4 cit4 ,objective4 ,what is inherent or relative to an object1 or not ,myself1 except in the case when ,i reflect on myself1 in which case my states of mind are objective to my thoughts4 ,in a popular sense objective means external1 as contrasted with the subjective or internal4 ,perception1 if it relates only to the subject as a modification of its state1 is a sensation4 ,an objective perception is a cognition 7,erkenntniss74 ,phenomena 7,erscheinnngen74 ,the undetermined object of an empirical intuition is called phenomenon4 ,reason 7pure2 ,germanice1 ,vernunft74 ,the source of ideas of moral feelings and of conceptions free from all elements taken up from experience4 ,representation 7,vorstellung74 ,all the products of the mind are styled representations 7except emotions and mere sensations7 and the term is applied to the whole genus4 ,representation with consciousness is perceptio4 ,sensation4 ,the capacity of receiving representations through the mode in which we are affected by objects is called sensibility4 ,by means of sensibility objects are given to us1 and it alone furnishes with intentions meaning sensuous intuitions4 ,by the understanding they are thought1 and from it arise conceptions4 ,subjective4 ,what has its source in and relation to the personality1 to ,myself1 ,i1 or the ,ego2 opposed to the objective1 or what is inherent in and relative to the object4 ,not myself1 except in the case when my states of mind are the object of my own reflection4 ,supersensuous4 ,contrasted with and opposed to the sensuous4 ,what is exclusively related to sense or imparted through the sensuous ideas is supersensuous4 ,see ,transcendental4 ,transcendental4 ,what exceeds the limits of sense and empirical observation4 ,i apply the term transcendental to all knowledge which is not so much occupied with objects as with the mode of our cognition of these objects1 so far as this mode of cognition is possible a priori4 ,kant's ,critique1 op4 cit4 p4 #af4 ,understanding 7,verstand74 ,the thought of faculty1 the source of conceptions and notions 7,begriffe7 of the laws of logic1 the categories1 and judgment4 ,,letters ,,on ,,the ,,aesthetical ,,education ,,of ,,man4 ,,letter ,i4 ,by your permission ,i lay before you1 in a series of letters1 the results of my researches upon beauty and art4 ,i am keenly sensible of the importance as well as of the charm and dignity of this undertaking4 ,i shall treat a subject which is closely connected with the better portion of our happiness and not far removed from the moral nobility of human nature4 ,i shall plead this cause of the beautiful before a heart by which her whole power is felt and exercised1 and which will take upon itself the most difficult part of my task in an investigation where one is compelled to appeal as frequently to feelings as to principles4 ,that which ,i would beg of you as a favor1 you generously impose upon me as a duty2 and1 when ,i solely consult my inclination1 you impute to me a service4 ,the liberty of action you prescribe is rather a necessity for me than a constraint4 ,little exercised in formal rules1 ,i shall scarcely incur the risk of sinning against good taste by any undue use of them2 my ideas1 drawn rather from within than from reading or from an intimate experience with the world1 will not disown their origin2 they would rather incur any reproach than that of a sectarian bias1 and would prefer to succumb by their innate feebleness than sustain themselves by borrowed authority and foreign support4 ,in truth1 ,i will not keep back from you that the assertions which follow rest chiefly upon ,kantian principles2 but if in the course of these researches you should be reminded of any special school of philosophy1 ascribe it to my incapacity1 not to those principles4 ,no2 your liberty of mind shall be sacred to me2 and the facts upon which ,i build will be furnished by your own sentiments2 your own unfettered thought will dictate the laws according to which we have to proceed4 ,with regard to the ideas which predominate in the practical part of ,kant's system1 philosophers only disagree1 whilst mankind1 ,i am confident of proving1 have never done so4 ,if stripped of their technical shape1 they will appear as the verdict of reason pronounced from time immemorial by common consent1 and as facts of the moral instinct which nature1 in her wisdom1 has given to man in order to serve as guide and teacher until his enlightened intelligence gives him maturity4 ,but this very technical shape which renders truth visible to the understanding conceals it from the feelings2 for1 unhappily1 understanding begins by destroying the object of the inner sense before it can appropriate the object4 ,like the chemist1 the philosopher finds synthesis only by analysis1 or the spontaneous work of nature only through the torture of art4 ,thus1 in order to detain the fleeting apparition1 he must enchain it in the fetters of rule1 dissect its fair proportions into abstract notions1 and preserve its living spirit in a fleshless skeleton of words4 ,is it surprising that natural feeling should not recognize itself in such a copy1 and if in the report of the analyst the truth appears as paradox8 ,permit me therefore to crave your indulgence if the following researches should remove their object from the sphere of sense while endeavoring to draw it towards the understanding4 ,that which ,i before said of moral experience can be applied with greater truth to the manifestation of the beautiful4 ,it is the mystery which enchants1 and its being is extinguished with the extinction of the necessary combination of its elements4 ,,letter ,,ii4 ,but ,i might perhaps make a better use of the opening you afford me if ,i were to direct your mind to a loftier theme than that of art4 ,it would appear to be unseasonable to go in search of a code for the aesthetic world1 when the moral world offers matter of so much higher interest1 and when the spirit of philosophical inquiry is so stringently challenged by the circumstances of our times to occupy itself with the most perfect of all works of art--the establishment and structure of a true political freedom4 ,it is unsatisfactory to live out of your own age and to work for other times4 ,it is equally incumbent on us to be good members of our own age as of our own state or country4 ,if it is conceived to be unseemly and even unlawful for a man to segregate himself from the customs and manners of the circle in which he lives1 it would be inconsistent not to see that it is equally his duty to grant a proper share of influence to the voice of his own epoch1 to its taste and its requirements1 in the operations in which he engages4 ,but the voice of our age seems by no means favorable to art1 at all events to that kind of art to which my inquiry is directed4 ,the course of events has given a direction to the genius of the time that threatens to remove it continually further from the ideal of art4 ,for art has to leave reality1 it has to raise itself boldly above necessity and neediness2 for art is the daughter of freedom1 and it requires its prescriptions and rules to be furnished by the necessity of spirits and not by that of matter4 ,but in our day it is necessity1 neediness1 that prevails1 and lends a degraded humanity under its iron yoke4 ,utility is the great idol of the time1 to which all powers do homage and all subjects are subservient4 ,in this great balance on utility1 the spiritual service of art has no weight1 and1 deprived of all encouragement1 it vanishes from the noisy ,vanity ,fair of our time4 ,the very spirit of philosophical inquiry itself robs the imagination of one promise after another1 and the frontiers of art are narrowed in proportion as the limits of science are enlarged4 ,the eyes of the philosopher as well as of the man of the world are anxiously turned to the theatre of political events1 where it is presumed the great destiny of man is to be played out4 ,it would almost seem to betray a culpable indifference to the welfare of society if we did not share this general interest4 ,for this great commerce in social and moral principles is of necessity a matter of the greatest concern to every human being1 on the ground both of its subject and of its results4 ,it must accordingly be of deepest moment to every man to think for himself4 ,it would seem that now at length a question that formerly was only settled by the law of the stronger is to be determined by the calm judgment of the reason1 and every man who is capable of placing himself in a central position1 and raising his individuality into that of his species1 can look upon himself as in possession of this judicial faculty of reason2 being moreover1 as man and member of the human family1 a party in the case under trial and involved more or less in its decisions4 ,it would thus appear that this great political process is not only engaged with his individual case1 it has also to pronounce enactments1 which he as a rational spirit is capable of enunciating and entitled to pronounce4 ,it is evident that it would have been most attractive to me to inquire into an object such as this1 to decide such a question in conjunction with a thinker of powerful mind1 a man of liberal sympathies1 and a heart imbued with a noble enthusiasm for the weal of humanity4 ,though so widely separated by worldly position1 it would have been a delightful surprise to have found your unprejudiced mind arriving at the same result as my own in the field of ideas4 ,nevertheless1 ,i think ,i can not only excuse1 but even justify by solid grounds1 my step in resisting this attractive purpose and in preferring beauty to freedom4 ,i hope that ,i shall succeed in convincing you that this matter of art is less foreign to the needs than to the tastes of our age2 nay1 that1 to arrive at a solution even in the political problem1 the road of aesthetics must be pursued1 because it is through beauty that we arrive at freedom4 ,but ,i cannot carry out this proof without my bringing to your remembrance the principles by which the reason is guided in political legislation4 ,,letter ,,iii4 ,man is not better treated by nature in his first start than her other works are2 so long as he is unable to act for himself as an independent intelligence she acts for him4 ,but the very fact that constitutes him a man is that he does not remain stationary1 where nature has placed him1 that he can pass with his reason1 retracing the steps nature had made him anticipate1 that he can convert the work of necessity into one of free solution1 and elevate physical necessity into a moral law4 ,when man is raised from his slumber in the senses he feels that he is a man2 he surveys his surroundings and finds that he is in a state4 ,he was introduced into this state by the power of circumstances1 before he could freely select his own position4 ,but as a moral being he cannot possibly rest satisfied with a political condition forced upon him by necessity1 and only calculated for that condition2 and it would be unfortunate if this did satisfy him4 ,in many cases man shakes off this blind law of necessity1 by his free spontaneous action1 of which among many others we have an instance1 in his ennobling by beauty and suppressing by moral influence the powerful impulse implanted in him by nature in the passion of love4 ,thus1 when arrived at maturity1 he recovers his childhood by an artificial process1 he founds a state of nature in his ideas1 not given him by any experience1 but established by the necessary laws and conditions of his reason1 and he attributes to this ideal condition an object1 an aim1 of which he was not cognizant in the actual reality of nature4 ,he gives himself a choice of which he was not capable before1 and sets to work just as if he were beginning anew1 and were exchanging his original state of bondage for one of complete independence1 doing this with complete insight and of his free decision4 ,he is justified in regarding this work of political thraldom as non-existing1 though a wild and arbitrary caprice may have founded its work very artfully2 though it may strive to maintain it with great arrogance and encompass it with a halo of veneration4 ,for the work of blind powers possesses no authority before which freedom need bow1 and all must be made to adapt itself to the highest end which reason has set up in his personality4 ,it is in this wise that a people in a state of manhood is justified in exchanging a condition of thraldom for one of moral freedom4 ,now the term natural condition can be applied to every political body which owes its establishment originally to forces and not to laws1 and such a state contradicts the moral nature of man1 because lawfulness can alone have authority over this4 ,at the same time this natural condition is quite sufficient for the physical man1 who only gives himself laws in order to get rid of brute force4 ,moreover1 the physical man is a reality1 and the moral man problematical4 ,therefore when the reason suppresses the natural condition1 as she must if she wishes to substitute her own1 she weighs the real physical man against the problematical moral man1 she weighs the existence of society against a possible1 though morally necessary1 ideal of society4 ,she takes from man something which he really possesses1 and without which he possesses nothing1 and refers him as a substitute to something that he ought to possess and might possess2 and if reason had relied too exclusively on him she might1 in order to secure him a state of humanity in which he is wanting and can want without injury to his life1 have robbed him even of the means of animal existence1 which is the first necessary condition of his being a man4 ,before he had opportunity to hold firm to the law with his will1 reason would have withdrawn from his feet the ladder of nature4 ,the great point is1 therefore1 to reconcile these two considerations1 to prevent physical society from ceasing for a moment in time1 while the moral society is being formed in the idea2 in other words1 to prevent its existence from being placed in jeopardy for the sake of the moral dignity of man4 ,when the mechanic has to mend a watch he lets the wheels run out2 but the living watchworks of the state have to be repaired while they act1 and a wheel has to be exchanged for another during its revolutions4 ,accordingly props must be sought for to support society and keep it going while it is made independent of the natural condition from which it is sought to emancipate it4 ,this prop is not found in the natural character of man1 who1 being selfish and violent1 directs his energies rather to the destruction than to the preservation of society4 ,nor is it found in his moral character1 which has to be formed1 which can never be worked upon or calculated on by the lawgiver1 because it is free and never appears4 ,it would seem1 therefore1 that another measure must be adopted4 ,it would seem that the physical character of the arbitrary must be separated from moral freedom2 that it is incumbent to make the former harmonize with the laws and the latter dependent on impressions2 it would be expedient to remove the former still farther from matter and to bring the latter somewhat more near to it2 in short1 to produce a third character related to both the others--the physical and the moral--paving the way to a transition from the sway of mere force to that of law1 without preventing the proper development of the moral character1 but serving rather as a pledge in the sensuous sphere of a morality in the unseen4 ,,letter ,,iv4 ,thus much is certain4 ,it is only when a third character1 as previously suggested1 has preponderance that a revolution in a state according to moral principles can be free from injurious consequences2 nor can anything else secure its endurance4 ,in proposing or setting up a moral state1 the moral law is relied upon as a real power1 and free-will is drawn into the realm of causes1 where all hangs together mutually with stringent necessity and rigidity4 ,but we know that the condition of the human will always remains contingent1 and that only in the ,absolute ,being physical coexists with moral necessity4 ,accordingly1 if it is wished to depend on the moral conduct of man as on natural results1 this conduct must become nature1 and he must be led by natural impulse to such a course of action as can only and invariably have moral results4 ,but the will of man is perfectly free between inclination and duty1 and no physical necessity ought to enter as a sharer in this magisterial personality4 ,if1 therefore1 he is to retain this power of solution1 and yet become a reliable link in the causal concatenation of forces1 this can only be effected when the operations of both these impulses are presented quite equally in the world of appearances4 ,it is only possible when1 with every difference of form1 the matter of man's volition remains the same1 when all his impulses agreeing with his reason are sufficient to have the value of a universal legislation4 ,it may be urged that every individual man carries within himself1 at least in his adaptation and destination1 a purely ideal man4 ,the great problem of his existence is to bring all the incessant changes of his outer life into conformity with the unchanging unity of this ideal4 ,this pure ideal man1 which makes itself known more or less clearly in every subject1 is represented by the state1 which is the objective1 and1 so to speak1 canonical form in which the manifold differences of the subjects strive to unite4 ,now two ways present themselves to the thought in which the man of time can agree with the man of idea1 and there are also two ways in which the state can maintain itself in individuals4 ,one of these ways is when the pure ideal man subdues the empirical man1 and the state suppresses the individual1 or again when the individual becomes the state1 and the man of time is ennobled to the man of idea4 ,i admit that in a one-sided estimate from the point of view of morality this difference vanishes1 for the reason is satisfied if her law prevails unconditionally4 ,but when the survey taken is complete and embraces the whole man 7anthropology71 where the form is considered together with the substance1 and a living feeling has a voice1 the difference will become far more evident4 ,no doubt the reason demands unity1 and nature variety1 and both legislations take man in hand4 ,the law of the former is stamped upon him by an incorruptible consciousness1 that of the latter by an ineradicable feeling4 ,consequently education will always appear deficient when the moral feeling can only be maintained with the sacrifice of what is natural2 and a political administration will always be very imperfect when it is only able to bring about unity by suppressing variety4 ,the state ought not only to respect the objective and generic1 but also the subjective and specific in individuals2 and while diffusing the unseen world of morals1 it must not depopulate the kingdom of appearance1 the external world of matter4 ,when the mechanical artist places his hand on the formless block1 to give it a form according to his intention1 he has not any scruples in doing violence to it4 ,for the nature on which he works does not deserve any respect in itself1 and he does not value the whole for its parts1 but the parts on account of the whole4 ,when the child of the fine arts sets his hand to the same block1 he has no scruples either in doing violence to it1 he only avoids showing this violence4 ,he does not respect the matter in which he works any more than the mechanical artist2 but he seeks by an apparent consideration for it to deceive the eye which takes this matter under its protection4 ,the political and educating artist follows a very different course1 while making man at once his material and his end4 ,in this case the aim or end meets in the material1 and it is only because the whole serves the parts that the parts adapt themselves to the end4 ,the political artist has to treat his material--man--with a very different kind of respect than that shown by the artist of fine art to his work4 ,he must spare man's peculiarity and personality1 not to produce a defective effect on the senses1 but objectively and out of consideration for his inner being4 ,but the state is an organization which fashions itself through itself and for itself1 and for this reason it can only be realized when the parts have been accorded to the idea of the whole4 ,the state serves the purpose of a representative1 both to pure ideal and to objective humanity1 in the breast of its citizens1 accordingly it will have to observe the same relation to its citizens in which they are placed to it2 and it will only respect their subjective humanity in the same degree that it is ennobled to an objective existence4 ,if the internal man is one with himself he will be able to rescue his peculiarity1 even in the greatest generalization of his conduct1 and the state will only become the exponent of his fine instinct1 the clearer formula of his internal legislation4 ,but if the subjective man is in conflict with the objective1 and contradicts him in the character of a people1 so that only the oppression of the former can give victory to the latter1 then the state will take up the severe aspect of the law against the citizen1 and in order not to fall a sacrifice1 it will have to crush under foot such a hostile individuality without any compromise4 ,now man can be opposed to himself in a twofold manner2 either as a savage1 when his feelings rule over his principles2 or as a barbarian1 when his principles destroy his feelings4 ,the savage despises art1 and acknowledges nature as his despotic ruler2 the barbarian laughs at nature1 and dishonors it1 but he often proceeds in a more contemptible way than the savage to be the slave of his senses4 ,the cultivated man makes of nature his friend1 and honors its friendship1 while only bridling its caprice4 ,consequently1 when reason brings her moral unity into physical society1 she must not injure the manifold in nature4 ,when nature strives to maintain her manifold character in the moral structure of society1 this must not create any breach in moral unity2 the victorious form is equally remote from uniformity and confusion4 ,therefore1 totality of character must be found in the people which is capable and worthy to exchange the state of necessity for that of freedom4 ,,letter ,v4 ,does the present age1 do passing events1 present this character8 ,i direct my attention at once to the most prominent object in this vast structure4 ,it is true that the consideration of opinion is fallen2 caprice is unnerved1 and1 although still armed with power1 receives no longer any respect4 ,man has awakened from his long lethargy and self-deception1 and he demands with impressive unanimity to be restored to his imperishable rights4 ,but he does not only demand them2 he rises on all sides to seize by force what1 in his opinion1 has been unjustly wrested from him4 ,the edifice of the natural state is tottering1 its foundations shake1 and a physical possibility seems at length granted to place law on the throne1 to honor man at length as an end1 and to make true freedom the basis of political union4 ,vain hope6 ,the moral possibility is wanting1 and the generous occasion finds an unsusceptible rule4 ,man paints himself in his actions1 and what is the form depicted in the drama of the present time8 ,on the one hand1 he is seen running wild1 on the other1 in a state of lethargy2 the two extremest stages of human degeneracy1 and both seen in one and the same period4 ,in the lower larger masses1 coarse1 lawless impulses come to view1 breaking loose when the bonds of civil order are burst asunder1 and hastening with unbridled fury to satisfy their savage instinct4 ,objective humanity may have had cause to complain of the state2 yet subjective man must honor its institutions4 ,ought he to be blamed because he lost sight of the dignity of human nature1 so long as he was concerned in preserving his existence8 ,can we blame him that he proceeded to separate by the force of gravity1 to fasten by the force of cohesion1 at a time when there could be no thought of building or raising up8 ,the extinction of the state contains its justification4 ,society set free1 instead of hastening upward into organic life1 collapses into its elements4 ,on the other hand1 the civilized classes give us the still more repulsive sight of lethargy1 and of a depravity of character which is the more revolting because it roots in culture4 ,i forget who of the older or more recent philosophers makes the remark1 that what is more noble is the more revolting in its destruction4 ,the remark applies with truth to the world of morals4 ,the child of nature1 when he breaks loose1 becomes a madman2 but the art scholar1 when he breaks loose1 becomes a debased character4 ,the enlightenment of the understanding1 on which the more refined classes pride themselves with some ground1 shows on the whole so little of an ennobling influence on the mind that it seems rather to confirm corruption by its maxims4 ,we deny nature on her legitimate field and feel her tyranny in the moral sphere1 and while resisting her impressions1 we receive our principles from her4 ,while the affected decency of our manners does not even grant to nature a pardonable influence in the initial stage1 our materialistic system of morals allows her the casting vote in the last and essential stage4 ,egotism has founded its system in the very bosom of a refined society1 and without developing even a sociable character1 we feel all the contagions and miseries of society4 ,we subject our free judgment to its despotic opinions1 our feelings to its bizarre customs1 and our will to its seductions4 ,we only maintain our caprice against her holy rights4 ,the man of the world has his heart contracted by a proud self-complacency1 while that of the man of nature often beats in sympathy2 and every man seeks for nothing more than to save his wretched property from the general destruction1 as it were from some great conflagration4 ,it is conceived that the only way to find a shelter against the aberrations of sentiment is by completely foregoing its indulgence1 and mockery1 which is often a useful chastener of mysticism1 slanders in the same breath the noblest aspirations4 ,culture1 far from giving us freedom1 only develops1 as it advances1 new necessities2 the fetters of the physical close more tightly around us1 so that the fear of loss quenches even the ardent impulse toward improvement1 and the maxims of passive obedience are held to be the highest wisdom of life4 ,thus the spirit of the time is seen to waver between perversion and savagism1 between what is unnatural and mere nature1 between superstition and moral unbelief1 and it is often nothing but the equilibrium of evils that sets bounds to it4 ,,letter ,,vi4 ,have ,i gone too far in this portraiture of our times8 ,i do not anticipate this stricture1 but rather another--that ,i have proved too much by it4 ,you will tell me that the picture ,i have presented resembles the humanity of our day1 but it also bodies forth all nations engaged in the same degree of culture1 because all1 without exception1 have fallen off from nature by the abuse of reason1 before they can return to it through reason4 ,but if we bestow some serious attention to the character of our times1 we shall be astonished at the contrast between the present and the previous form of humanity1 especially that of ,greece4 ,we are justified in claiming the reputation of culture and refinement1 when contrasted with a purely natural state of society1 but not so comparing ourselves with the ,grecian nature4 ,for the latter was combined with all the charms of art and with all the dignity of wisdom1 without1 however1 as with us1 becoming a victim to these influences4 ,the ,greeks have put us to shame not only by their simplicity1 which is foreign to our age2 they are at the same time our rivals1 nay1 frequently our models1 in those very points of superiority from which we seek comfort when regretting the unnatural character of our manners4 ,we see that remarkable people uniting at once fulness of form and fulness of substance1 both philosophizing and creating1 both tender and energetic1 uniting a youthful fancy to the virility of reason in a glorious humanity4 ,at the period of ,greek culture1 which was an awakening of the powers of the mind1 the senses and the spirit had no distinctly separated property2 no division had yet torn them asunder1 leading them to partition in a hostile attitude1 and to mark off their limits with precision4 ,poetry had not as yet become the adversary of wit1 nor had speculation abused itself by passing into quibbling4 ,in cases of necessity both poetry and wit could exchange parts1 because they both honored truth only in their special way4 ,however high might be the flight of reason1 it drew matter in a loving spirit after it1 and while sharply and stiffly defining it1 never mutilated what it touched4 ,it is true the ,greek mind displaced humanity1 and recast it on a magnified scale in the glorious circle of its gods2 but it did this not by dissecting human nature1 but by giving it fresh combinations1 for the whole of human nature was represented in each of the gods4 ,how different is the course followed by us moderns6 ,we also displace and magnify individuals to form the image of the species1 but we do this in a fragmentary way1 not by altered combinations1 so that it is necessary to gather up from different individuals the elements that form the species in its totality4 ,it would almost appear as if the powers of mind express themselves with us in real life or empirically as separately as the psychologist distinguishes them in the representation4 ,for we see not only individual subjects1 but whole classes of men1 uphold their capacities only in part1 while the rest of their faculties scarcely show a germ of activity1 as in the case of the stunted growth of plants4 ,i do not overlook the advantages to which the present race1 regarded as a unity and in the balance of the understanding1 may lay claim over what is best in the ancient world2 but it is obliged to engage in the contest as a compact mass1 and measure itself as a whole against a whole4 ,who among the moderns could step forth1 man against man1 and strive with an ,athenian for the prize of higher humanity4 ,whence comes this disadvantageous relation of individuals coupled with great advantages of the race8 ,why could the individual ,greek be qualified as the type of his time2 and why can no modern dare to offer himself as such8 ,because all-uniting nature imparted its forms to the ,greek1 and an all-dividing understanding gives our forms to us4 ,it was culture itself that gave these wounds to modern humanity4 ,the inner union of human nature was broken1 and a destructive contest divided its harmonious forces directly2 on the one hand1 an enlarged experience and a more distinct thinking necessitated a sharper separation of the sciences1 while1 on the other hand1 the more complicated machinery of states necessitated a stricter sundering of ranks and occupations4 ,intuitive and speculative understanding took up a hostile attitude in opposite fields1 whose borders were guarded with jealousy and distrust2 and by limiting its operation to a narrow sphere1 men have made unto themselves a master who is wont not unfrequently to end by subduing and oppressing all the other faculties4 ,whilst on the one hand a luxuriant imagination creates ravages in the plantations that have cost the intelligence so much labor2 on the other hand1 a spirit of abstraction suffocates the fire that might have warmed the heart and inflamed the imagination4 ,this subversion1 commenced by art and learning in the inner man1 was carried out to fulness and finished by the spirit of innovation in government4 ,it was1 no doubt1 reasonable to expect that the simple organization of the primitive republics should survive the quaintness of primitive manners and of the relations of antiquity4 ,but1 instead of rising to a higher and nobler degree of animal life1 this organization degenerated into a common and coarse mechanism4 ,the zoophyte condition of the ,grecian states1 where each individual enjoyed an independent life1 and could1 in cases of necessity1 become a separate whole and unit in himself1 gave way to an ingenious mechanism1 when1 from the splitting up into numberless parts1 there results a mechanical life in the combination4 ,then there was a rupture between the state and the church1 between laws and customs2 enjoyment was separated from labor1 the means from the end1 the effort from the reward4 ,man himself1 eternally chained down to a little fragment of the whole1 only forms a kind of fragment2 having nothing in his ears but the monotonous sound of the perpetually revolving wheel1 he never develops the harmony of his being1 and instead of imprinting the seal of humanity on his being1 he ends by being nothing more than the living impress of the craft to which he devotes himself1 of the science that he cultivates4 ,this very partial and paltry relation1 linking the isolated members to the whole1 does not depend on forms that are given spontaneously2 for how could a complicated machine1 which shuns the light1 confide itself to the free will of man8 ,this relation is rather dictated1 with a rigorous strictness1 by a formulary in which the free intelligence of man is chained down4 ,the dead letter takes the place of a living meaning1 and a practised memory becomes a safer guide than genius and feeling4 ,if the community or state measures man by his function1 only asking of its citizens memory1 or the intelligence of a craftsman1 or mechanical skill1 we cannot be surprised that the other faculties of the mind are neglected for the exclusive culture of the one that brings in honor and profit4 ,such is the necessary result of an organization that is indifferent about character1 only looking to acquirements1 whilst in other cases it tolerates the thickest darkness1 to favor a spirit of law and order2 it must result if it wishes that individuals in the exercise of special aptitudes should gain in depth what they are permitted to lose in extension4 ,we are aware1 no doubt1 that a powerful genius does not shut up its activity within the limits of its functions2 but mediocre talents consume in the craft fallen to their lot the whole of their feeble energy2 and if some of their energy is reserved for matters of preference1 without prejudice to its functions1 such a state of things at once bespeaks a spirit soaring above the vulgar4 ,moreover1 it is rarely a recommendation in the eye of a state to have a capacity superior to your employment1 or one of those noble intellectual cravings of a man of talent which contend in rivalry with the duties of office4 ,the state is so jealous of the exclusive possession of its servants that it would prefer--nor can it be blamed in this--for functionaries to show their powers with the ,venus of ,cytherea rather than the ,uranian ,venus4 ,it is thus that concrete individual life is extinguished1 in order that the abstract whole may continue its miserable life1 and the state remains forever a stranger to its citizens1 because feeling does not discover it anywhere4 ,the governing authorities find themselves compelled to classify1 and thereby simplify the multiplicity of citizens1 and only to know humanity in a representative form and at second-hand4 ,accordingly they end by entirely losing sight of humanity1 and by confounding it with a simple artificial creation of the understanding1 whilst on their part the subject-classes cannot help receiving coldly laws that address themselves so little to their personality4 ,at length1 society1 weary of having a burden that the state takes so little trouble to lighten1 falls to pieces and is broken up--a destiny that has long since attended most ,european states4 ,they are dissolved in what may be called a state of moral nature1 in which public authority is only one function more1 hated and deceived by those who think it necessary1 respected only by those who can do without it4 ,thus compressed between two forces1 within and without1 could humanity follow any other course than that which it has taken8 ,the speculative mind1 pursuing imprescriptible goods and rights in the sphere of ideas1 must needs have become a stranger to the world of sense1 and lose sight of matter for the sake of form4 ,on its part1 the world of public affairs1 shut up in a monotonous circle of objects1 and even there restricted by formulas1 was led to lose sight of the life and liberty of the whole1 while becoming impoverished at the same time in its own sphere4 ,just as the speculative mind was tempted to model the real after the intelligible1 and to raise the subjective laws of its imagination into laws constituting the existence of things1 so the state spirit rushed into the opposite extreme1 wished to make a particular and fragmentary experience the measure of all observation1 and to apply without exception to all affairs the rules of its own particular craft4 ,the speculative mind had necessarily to become the prey of a vain subtlety1 the state spirit of a narrow pedantry2 for the former was placed too high to see the individual1 and the latter too low to survey the whole4 ,but the disadvantage of this direction of mind was not confined to knowledge and mental production2 it extended to action and feeling4 ,we know that the sensibility of the mind depends1 as to degree1 on the liveliness1 and for extent on the richness of the imagination4 ,now the predominance of the faculty of analysis must necessarily deprive the imagination of its warmth and energy1 and a restricted sphere of objects must diminish its wealth4 ,it is for this reason that the abstract thinker has very often a cold heart1 because he analyzes impressions1 which only move the mind by their combination or totality2 on the other hand1 the man of business1 the statesman1 has very often a narrow heart1 because1 shut up in the narrow circle of his employment1 his imagination can neither expand nor adapt itself to another manner of viewing things4 ,my subject has led me naturally to place in relief the distressing tendency of the character of our own times and to show the sources of the evil1 without its being my province to point out the compensations offered by nature4 ,i will readily admit to you that1 although this splitting up of their being was unfavorable for individuals1 it was the only open road for the progress of the race4 ,the point at which we see humanity arrived among the ,greeks was undoubtedly a maximum2 it could neither stop there nor rise higher4 ,it could not stop there1 for the sum of notions acquired forced infallibly the intelligence to break with feeling and intuition1 and to lead to clearness of knowledge4 ,nor could it rise any higher2 for it is only in a determinate measure that clearness can be reconciled with a certain degree of abundance and of warmth4 ,the ,greeks had attained this measure1 and to continue their progress in culture1 they1 as we1 were obliged to renounce the totality of their being1 and to follow different and separate roads in order to seek after truth4 ,there was no other way to develop the manifold aptitudes of man than to bring them in opposition with one another4 ,this antagonism of forces is the great instrument of culture1 but it is only an instrument3 for as long as this antagonism lasts man is only on the road to culture4 ,it is only because these special forces are isolated in man1 and because they take on themselves to impose all exclusive legislation1 that they enter into strife with the truth of things1 and oblige common sense1 which generally adheres imperturbably to external phenomena1 to dive into the essence of things4 ,while pure understanding usurps authority in the world of sense1 and empiricism attempts to subject this intellect to the conditions of experience1 these two rival directions arrive at the highest possible development1 and exhaust the whole extent of their sphere4 ,while1 on the one hand1 imagination1 by its tyranny1 ventures to destroy the order of the world1 it forces reason1 on the other side1 to rise up to the supreme sources of knowledge1 and to invoke against this predominance of fancy the help of the law of necessity4 ,by an exclusive spirit in the case of his faculties1 the individual is fatally led to error2 but the species is led to truth4 ,it is only by gathering up all the energy of our mind in a single focus1 and concentrating a single force in our being1 that we give in some sort wings to this isolated force1 and that we draw it on artificially far beyond the limits that nature seems to have imposed upon it4 ,if it be certain that all human individuals taken together would never have arrived1 with the visual power given them by nature1 to see a satellite of ,jupiter1 discovered by the telescope of the astronomer1 it is just as well established that never would the human understanding have produced the analysis of the infinite1 or the critique of pure reason1 if in particular branches1 destined for this mission1 reason had not applied itself to special researches1 and it1 after having1 as it were1 freed itself from all matter1 it had not1 by the most powerful abstraction given to the spiritual eye of man the force necessary1 in order to look into the absolute4 ,but the question is1 if a spirit thus absorbed in pure reason and intuition will be able to emancipate itself from the rigorous fetters of logic1 to take the free action of poetry1 and seize the individuality of things with a faithful and chaste sense8 ,here nature imposes even on the most universal genius a limit it cannot pass1 and truth will make martyrs as long as philosophy will be reduced to make its principal occupation the search for arms against errors4 ,but whatever may be the final profit for the totality of the world1 of this distinct and special perfecting of the human faculties1 it cannot be denied that this final aim of the universe1 which devotes them to this kind of culture1 is a cause of suffering1 and a kind of malediction for individuals4 ,i admit that the exercises of the gymnasium form athletic bodies2 but beauty is only developed by the free and equal play of the limbs4 ,in the same way the tension of the isolated spiritual forces may make extraordinary men2 but it is only the well-tempered equilibrium of these forces that can produce happy and accomplished men4 ,and in what relation should we be placed with past and future ages if the perfecting of human nature made such a sacrifice indispensable8 ,in that case we should have been the slaves of humanity1 we should have consumed our forces in servile work for it during some thousands of years1 and we should have stamped on our humiliated1 mutilated nature the shameful brand of this slavery--all this in order that future generations1 in a happy leisure1 might consecrate themselves to the cure of their moral health1 and develop the whole of human nature by their free culture4 ,but can it be true that man has to neglect himself for any end whatever8 ,can nature snatch from us1 for any end whatever1 the perfection which is prescribed to us by the aim of reason8 ,it must be false that the perfecting of particular faculties renders the sacrifice of their totality necessary2 and even if the law of nature had imperiously this tendency1 we must have the power to reform by a superior art this totality of our being1 which art has destroyed4 ,,letter ,,vii4 ,can this effect of harmony be attained by the state8 ,that is not possible1 for the state1 as at present constituted1 has given occasion to evil1 and the state as conceived in the idea1 instead of being able to establish this more perfect humanity1 ought to be based upon it4 ,thus the researches in which ,i have indulged would have brought me back to the same point from which they had called me off for a time4 ,the present age1 far from offering us this form of humanity1 which we have acknowledged as a necessary condition of an improvement of the state1 shows us rather the diametrically opposite form4 ,if1 therefore1 the principles ,i have laid down are correct1 and if experience confirms the picture ,i have traced of the present time1 it would be necessary to qualify as unseasonable every attempt to effect a similar change in the state1 and all hope as chimerical that would be based on such an attempt1 until the division of the inner man ceases1 and nature has been sufficiently developed to become herself the instrument of this great change and secure the reality of the political creation of reason4 ,in the physical creation1 nature shows us the road that we have to follow in the moral creation4 ,only when the struggle of elementary forces has ceased in inferior organizations1 nature rises to the noble form of the physical man4 ,in like manner1 the conflict of the elements of the moral man and that of blind instincts must have ceased1 and a coarse antagonism in himself1 before the attempt can be hazarded4 ,on the other hand1 the independence of man's character must be secured1 and his submission to despotic forms must have given place to a suitable liberty1 before the variety in his constitution can be made subordinate to the unity of the ideal4 ,when the man of nature still makes such an anarchial abuse of his will1 his liberty ought hardly to be disclosed to him4 ,and when the man fashioned by culture makes so little use of his freedom1 his free will ought not to be taken from him4 ,the concession of liberal principles becomes a treason to social order when it is associated with a force still in fermentation1 and increases the already exuberant energy of its nature4 ,again1 the law of conformity under one level becomes tyranny to the individual when it is allied to a weakness already holding sway and to natural obstacles1 and when it comes to extinguish the last spark of spontaneity and of originality4 ,the tone of the age must therefore rise from its profound moral degradation2 on the one hand it must emancipate itself from the blind service of nature1 and on the other it must revert to its simplicity1 its truth1 and its fruitful sap2 a sufficient task for more than a century4 ,however1 ,i admit readily1 more than one special effort may meet with success1 but no improvement of the whole will result from it1 and contradictions in action will be a continual protest against the unity of maxims4 ,it will be quite possible1 then1 that in remote corners of the world humanity may be honored in the person of the negro1 while in ,europe it may be degraded in the person of the thinker4 ,the old principles will remain1 but they will adopt the dress of the age1 and philosophy will lend its name to an oppression that was formerly authorized by the church4 ,in one place1 alarmed at the liberty which in its opening efforts always shows itself an enemy1 it will cast itself into the arms of a convenient servitude4 ,in another place1 reduced to despair by a pedantic tutelage1 it will be driven into the savage license of the state of nature4 ,usurpation will invoke the weakness of human nature1 and insurrection will invoke its dignity1 till at length the great sovereign of all human things1 blind force1 shall come in and decide1 like a vulgar pugilist1 this pretended contest of principles4 ,,letter ,,viii4 ,must philosophy therefore retire from this field1 disappointed in its hopes8 ,whilst in all other directions the dominion of forms is extended1 must this the most precious of all gifts be abandoned to a formless chance8 ,must the contest of blind forces last eternally in the political world1 and is social law never to triumph over a hating egotism8 ,not in the least4 ,it is true that reason herself will never attempt directly a struggle with this brutal force which resists her arms1 and she will be as far as the son of ,saturn in the ,iliad from descending into the dismal field of battle1 to fight them in person4 ,but she chooses the most deserving among the combatants1 clothes him with divine arms as ,jupiter gave them to his son-in-law1 and by her triumphing force she finally decides the victory4 ,reason has done all that she could in finding the law and promulgating it2 it is for the energy of the will and the ardor of feeling to carry it out4 ,to issue victoriously from her contest with force1 truth herself must first become a force1 and turn one of the instincts of man into her champion in the empire of phenomena4 ,for instincts are the only motive forces in the material world4 ,if hitherto truth has so little manifested her victorious power1 this has not depended on the understanding1 which could not have unveiled it1 but on the heart which remained closed to it and on instinct which did not act with it4 ,whence1 in fact1 proceeds this general sway of prejudices1 this might of the understanding in the midst of the light disseminated by philosophy and experience8 ,the age is enlightened1 that is to say1 that knowledge1 obtained and vulgarized1 suffices to set right at least on practical principles4 ,the spirit of free inquiry has dissipated the erroneous opinions which long barred the access to truth1 and has undermined the ground on which fanaticism and deception had erected their throne4 ,reason has purified itself from the illusions of the senses and from a mendacious sophistry1 and philosophy herself raises her voice and exhorts us to return to the bosom of nature1 to which she had first made us unfaithful4 ,whence then is it that we remain still barbarians8 ,there must be something in the spirit of man--as it is not in the objects themselves--which prevents us from receiving the truth1 notwithstanding the brilliant light she diffuses1 and from accepting her1 whatever may be her strength for producing conviction4 ,this something was perceived and expressed by an ancient sage in this very significant maxim3 sapere aude dare to be wise4 ,dare to be wise6 ,a spirited courage is required to triumph over the impediments that the indolence of nature as well as the cowardice of the heart oppose to our instruction4 ,it was not without reason that the ancient ,mythos made ,minerva issue fully armed from the head of ,jupiter1 for it is with warfare that this instruction commences4 ,from its very outset it has to sustain a hard fight against the senses1 which do not like to be roused from their easy slumber4 ,the greater part of men are much too exhausted and enervated by their struggle with want to be able to engage in a new and severe contest with error4 ,satisfied if they themselves can escape from the hard labor of thought1 they willingly abandon to others the guardianship of their thoughts4 ,and if it happens that nobler necessities agitate their soul1 they cling with a greedy faith to the formula that the state and the church hold in reserve for such cases4 ,if these unhappy men deserve our compassion1 those others deserve our just contempt1 who1 though set free from those necessities by more fortunate circumstances1 yet willingly bend to their yoke4 ,these latter persons prefer this twilight of obscure ideas1 where the feelings have more intensity1 and the imagination can at will create convenient chimeras1 to the rays of truth which put to flight the pleasant illusions of their dreams4 ,they have founded the whole structure of their happiness on these very illusions1 which ought to be combated and dissipated by the light of knowledge1 and they would think they were paying too dearly for a truth which begins by robbing them of all that has value in their sight4 ,it would be necessary that they should be already sages to love wisdom3 a truth that was felt at once by him to whom philosophy owes its name4 ,the ,greek word means1 as is known1 love of wisdom4 ,it is therefore not going far enough to say that the light of the understanding only deserves respect when it reacts on the character2 to a certain extent it is from the character that this light proceeds2 for the road that terminates in the head must pass through the heart4 ,accordingly1 the most pressing need of the present time is to educate the sensibility1 because it is the means1 not only to render efficacious in practice the improvement of ideas1 but to call this improvement into existence4 ,,letter ,,ix4 ,but perhaps there is a vicious circle in our previous reasoning6 ,theoretical culture must it seems bring along with it practical culture1 and yet the latter must be the condition of the former4 ,all improvement in the political sphere must proceed from the ennobling of the character4 ,but1 subject to the influence of a social constitution still barbarous1 how can character become ennobled8 ,it would then be necessary to seek for this end an instrument that the state does not furnish1 and to open sources that would have preserved themselves pure in the midst of political corruption4 ,i have now reached the point to which all the considerations tended that have engaged me up to the present time4 ,this instrument is the art of the beautiful2 these sources are open to us in its immortal models4 ,art1 like science1 is emancipated from all that is positive1 and all that is humanly conventional2 both are completely independent of the arbitrary will of man4 ,the political legislator may place their empire under an interdict1 but he cannot reign there4 ,he can proscribe the friend of truth1 but truth subsists2 he can degrade the artist1 but he cannot change art4 ,no doubt1 nothing is more common than to see science and art bend before the spirit of the age1 and creative taste receive its law from critical taste4 ,when the character becomes stiff and hardens itself1 we see science severely keeping her limits1 and art subject to the harsh restraint of rules2 when the character is relaxed and softened1 science endeavors to please and art to rejoice4 ,for whole ages philosophers as well as artists show themselves occupied in letting down truth and beauty to the depths of vulgar humanity4 ,they themselves are swallowed up in it2 but1 thanks to their essential vigor and indestructible life1 the true and the beautiful make a victorious fight1 and issue triumphant from the abyss4 ,no doubt the artist is the child of his time1 but unhappy for him if he is its disciple or even its favorite6 ,let a beneficent deity carry off in good time the suckling from the breast of its mother1 let it nourish him on the milk of a better age1 and suffer him to grow up and arrive at virility under the distant sky of ,greece4 ,when he has attained manhood1 let him come back1 presenting a face strange to his own age2 let him come1 not to delight it with his apparition1 but rather to purify it1 terrible as the son of ,agamemnon4 ,he will1 indeed1 receive his matter from the present time1 but he will borrow the form from a nobler time and even beyond all time1 from the essential1 absolute1 immutable unity4 ,there1 issuing from the pure ether of its heavenly nature1 flows the source of all beauty1 which was never tainted by the corruptions of generations or of ages1 which roll along far beneath it in dark eddies4 ,its matter may be dishonored as well as ennobled by fancy1 but the ever-chaste form escapes from the caprices of imagination4 ,the ,roman had already bent his knee for long years to the divinity of the emperors1 and yet the statues of the gods stood erect2 the temples retained their sanctity for the eye long after the gods had become a theme for mockery1 and the noble architecture of the palaces that shielded the infamies of ,nero and of ,commodus were a protest against them4 ,humanity has lost its dignity1 but art has saved it1 and preserves it in marbles full of meaning2 truth continues to live in illusion1 and the copy will serve to re-establish the model4 ,if the nobility of art has survived the nobility of nature1 it also goes before it like an inspiring genius1 forming and awakening minds4 ,before truth causes her triumphant light to penetrate into the depths of the heart1 poetry intercepts her rays1 and the summits of humanity shine in a bright light1 while a dark and humid night still hangs over the valleys4 ,but how will the artist avoid the corruption of his time which encloses him on all hands8 ,let him raise his eyes to his own dignity1 and to law2 let him not lower them to necessity and fortune4 ,equally exempt from a vain activity which would imprint its trace on the fugitive moment1 and from the dreams of an impatient enthusiasm which applies the measure of the absolute to the paltry productions of time1 let the artist abandon the real to the understanding1 for that is its proper field4 ,but let the artist endeavor to give birth to the ideal by the union of the possible and of the necessary4 ,let him stamp illusion and truth with the effigy of this ideal2 let him apply it to the play of his imagination and his most serious actions1 in short1 to all sensuous and spiritual forms2 then let him quietly launch his work into infinite time4 ,but the minds set on fire by this ideal have not all received an equal share of calm from the creative genius--that great and patient temper which is required to impress the ideal on the dumb marble1 or to spread it over a page of cold1 sober letters1 and then intrust it to the faithful hands of time4 ,this divine instinct1 and creative force1 much too ardent to follow this peaceful walk1 often throws itself immediately on the present1 on active life1 and strives to transform the shapeless matter of the moral world4 ,the misfortune of his brothers1 of the whole species1 appeals loudly to the heart of the man of feeling2 their abasement appeals still louder3 enthusiasm is inflamed1 and in souls endowed with energy the burning desire aspires impatiently to action and facts4 ,but has this innovator examined himself to see if these disorders of the moral world wound his reason1 or if they do not rather wound his self-love8 ,if he does not determine this point at once1 he will find it from the impulsiveness with which he pursues a prompt and definite end4 ,a pure1 moral motive has for its end the absolute2 time does not exist for it1 and the future becomes the present to it directly2 by a necessary development1 it has to issue from the present4 ,to a reason having no limits the direction towards an end becomes confounded with the accomplishment of this end1 and to enter on a course is to have finished it4 ,if1 then1 a young friend of the true and of the beautiful were to ask me how1 notwithstanding the resistance of the times1 he can satisfy the noble longing of his heart1 ,i should reply3 ,direct the world on which you act towards that which is good1 and the measured and peaceful course of time will bring about the results4 ,you have given it this direction if by your teaching you raise its thoughts towards the necessary and the eternal2 if1 by your acts or your creations1 you make the necessary and the eternal the object of your leanings4 ,the structure of error and of all that is arbitrary must fall1 and it has already fallen1 as soon as you are sure that it is tottering4 ,but it is important that it should not only totter in the external but also in the internal man4 ,cherish triumphant truth in the modest sanctuary of your heart2 give it an incarnate form through beauty1 that it may not only be in the understanding that does homage to it1 but that feeling may lovingly grasp its appearance4 ,and that you may not by any chance take from external reality the model which you yourself ought to furnish1 do not venture into its dangerous society before you are assured in your own heart that you have a good escort furnished by ideal nature4 ,live with your age1 but be not its creation2 labor for your contemporaries1 but do for them what they need1 and not what they praise4 ,without having shared their faults1 share their punishment with a noble resignation1 and bend under the yoke which they find it as painful to dispense with as to bear4 ,by the constancy with which you will despise their good fortune1 you will prove to them that it is not through cowardice that you submit to their sufferings4 ,see them in thought such as they ought to be when you must act upon them2 but see them as they are when you are tempted to act for them4 ,seek to owe their suffrage to their dignity2 but to make them happy keep an account of their unworthiness3 thus1 on the one hand1 the nobleness of your heart will kindle theirs1 and1 on the other1 your end will not be reduced to nothingness by their unworthiness4 ,the gravity of your principles will keep them off from you1 but in play they will still endure them4 ,their taste is purer than their heart1 and it is by their taste you must lay hold of this suspicious fugitive4 ,in vain will you combat their maxims1 in vain will you condemn their actions2 but you can try your moulding hand on their leisure4 ,drive away caprice1 frivolity1 and coarseness from their pleasures1 and you will banish them imperceptibly from their acts1 and at length from their feelings4 ,everywhere that you meet them1 surround them with great1 noble1 and ingenious forms2 multiply around them the symbols of perfection1 till appearance triumphs over reality1 and art over nature4 ,,letter ,x4 ,convinced by my preceding letters1 you agree with me on this point1 that man can depart from his destination by two opposite roads1 that our epoch is actually moving on these two false roads1 and that it has become the prey1 in one case1 of coarseness1 and elsewhere of exhaustion and depravity4 ,it is the beautiful that must bring it back from this twofold departure4 ,but how can the cultivation of the fine arts remedy1 at the same time1 these opposite defects1 and unite in itself two contradictory qualities8 ,can it bind nature in the savage1 and set it free in the barbarian8 ,can it at once tighten a spring and loose it2 and if it cannot produce this double effect1 how will it be reasonable to expect from it so important a result as the education of man8 ,it may be urged that it is almost a proverbial adage that the feeling developed by the beautiful refines manners1 and any new proof offered on the subject would appear superfluous4 ,men base this maxim on daily experience1 which shows us almost always clearness of intellect1 delicacy of feeling1 liberality and even dignity of conduct1 associated with a cultivated taste1 while an uncultivated taste is almost always accompanied by the opposite qualities4 ,with considerable assurance1 the most civilized nation of antiquity is cited as an evidence of this1 the ,greeks1 among whom the perception of the beautiful attained its highest development1 and1 as a contrast1 it is usual to point to nations in a partial savage state1 and partly barbarous1 who expiate their insensibility to the beautiful by a coarse1 or1 at all events1 a hard1 austere character4 ,nevertheless1 some thinkers are tempted occasionally to deny either the fact itself or to dispute the legitimacy of the consequences that are derived from it4 ,they do not entertain so unfavorable an opinion of that savage coarseness which is made a reproach in the case of certain nations2 nor do they form so advantageous an opinion of the refinement so highly lauded in the case of cultivated nations4 ,even as far back as in antiquity there were men who by no means regarded the culture of the liberal arts as a benefit1 and who were consequently led to forbid the entrance of their republic to imagination4 ,i do not speak of those who calumniate art because they have never been favored by it4 ,these persons only appreciate a possession by the trouble it takes to acquire it1 and by the profit it brings3 and how could they properly appreciate the silent labor of taste in the exterior and interior man8 ,how evident it is that the accidental disadvantages attending liberal culture would make them lose sight of its essential advantages8 ,the man deficient in form despises the grace of diction as a means of corruption1 courtesy in the social relations as dissimulation1 delicacy and generosity in conduct as an affected exaggeration4 ,he cannot forgive the favorite of the ,graces for having enlivened all assemblies as a man of the world1 of having directed all men to his views like a statesman1 and of giving his impress to the whole century as a writer3 while he1 the victim of labor1 can only obtain with all his learning1 the least attention or overcome the least difficulty4 ,as he cannot learn from his fortunate rival the secret of pleasing1 the only course open to him is to deplore the corruption of human nature1 which adores rather the appearance than the reality4 ,but there are also opinions deserving respect1 that pronounce themselves adverse to the effects of the beautiful1 and find formidable arms in experience1 with which to wage war against it4 ,we are free to admit-- such is their language--that the charms of the beautiful can further honorable ends in pure hands2 but it is not repugnant to its nature to produce1 in impure hands1 a directly contrary effect1 and to employ in the service of injustice and error the power that throws the soul of man into chains4 ,it is exactly because taste only attends to the form and never to the substance2 it ends by placing the soul on the dangerous incline1 leading it to neglect all reality and to sacrifice truth and morality to an attractive envelope4 ,all the real difference of things vanishes1 and it is only the appearance that determines the value6 ,how many men of talent--thus these arguers proceed--have been turned aside from all effort by the seductive power of the beautiful1 or have been led away from all serious exercise of their activity1 or have been induced to use it very feebly8 ,how many weak minds have been impelled to quarrel with the organizations of society1 simply because it has pleased the imagination of poets to present the image of a world constituted differently1 where no propriety chains down opinion and no artifice holds nature in thraldom8 ,what a dangerous logic of the passions they have learned since the poets have painted them in their pictures in the most brilliant colors1 and since1 in the contest with law and duty1 they have commonly remained masters of the battle-field4 ,what has society gained by the relations of society1 formerly under the sway of truth1 being now subject to the laws of the beautiful1 or by the external impression deciding the estimation in which merit is to be held8 ,we admit that all virtues whose appearance produces an agreeable effect are now seen to flourish1 and those which1 in society1 give a value to the man who possesses them4 ,but1 as a compensation1 all kinds of excesses are seen to prevail1 and all vices are in vogue that can be reconciled with a graceful exterior4 ,it is certainly a matter entitled to reflection that1 at almost all the periods of history when art flourished and taste held sway1 humanity is found in a state of decline2 nor can a single instance be cited of the union of a large diffusion of aesthetic culture with political liberty and social virtue1 of fine manners associated with good morals1 and of politeness fraternizing with truth and loyalty of character and life4 ,as long as ,athens and ,sparta preserved their independence1 and as long as their institutions were based on respect for the laws1 taste did not reach its maturity1 art remained in its infancy1 and beauty was far from exercising her empire over minds4 ,no doubt1 poetry had already taken a sublime flight1 but it was on the wings of genius1 and we know that genius borders very closely on savage coarseness1 that it is a light which shines readily in the midst of darkness1 and which therefore often argues against rather than in favor of the taste of time4 ,when the golden age of art appears under ,pericles and ,alexander1 and the sway of taste becomes more general1 strength and liberty have abandoned ,greece2 eloquence corrupts the truth1 wisdom offends it on the lips of ,socrates1 and virtue in the life of ,phocion4 ,it is well known that the ,romans had to exhaust their energies in civil wars1 and1 corrupted by ,oriental luxury1 to bow their heads under the yoke of a fortunate despot1 before ,grecian art triumphed over the stiffness of their character4 ,the same was the case with the ,arabs3 civilization only dawned upon them when the vigor of their military spirit became softened under the sceptre of the ,abbassides4 ,art did not appear in modern ,italy till the glorious ,lombard ,league was dissolved1 ,florence submitting to the ,medici2 and all those brave cities gave up the spirit of independence for an inglorious resignation4 ,it is almost superfluous to call to mind the example of modern nations1 with whom refinement has increased in direct proportion to the decline of their liberties4 ,wherever we direct our eyes in past times1 we see taste and freedom mutually avoiding each other4 ,everywhere we see that the beautiful only founds its sway on the ruins of heroic virtues4 ,and yet this strength of character1 which is commonly sacrificed to establish aesthetic culture1 is the most powerful spring of all that is great and excellent in man1 and no other advantage1 however great1 can make up for it4 ,accordingly1 if we only keep to the experiments hitherto made1 as to the influence of the beautiful1 we cannot certainly be much encouraged in developing feelings so dangerous to the real culture of man4 ,at the risk of being hard and coarse1 it will seem preferable to dispense with this dissolving force of the beautiful rather than see human nature a prey to its enervating influence1 notwithstanding all its refining advantages4 ,however1 experience is perhaps not the proper tribunal at which to decide such a question2 before giving so much weight to its testimony1 it would be well to inquire if the beauty we have been discussing is the power that is condemned by the previous examples4 ,and the beauty we are discussing seems to assume an idea of the beautiful derived from a source different from experience1 for it is this higher notion of the beautiful which has to decide if what is called beauty by experience is entitled to the name4 ,this pure and rational idea of the beautiful--supposing it can be placed in evidence--cannot be taken from any real and special case1 and must1 on the contrary1 direct and give sanction to our judgment in each special case4 ,it must therefore be sought for by a process of abstraction1 and it ought to be deduced from the simple possibility of a nature both sensuous and rational2 in short1 beauty ought to present itself as a necessary condition of humanity4 ,it is therefore essential that we should rise to the pure idea of humanity1 and as experience shows us nothing but individuals1 in particular cases1 and never humanity at large1 we must endeavor to find in their individual and variable mode of being the absolute and the permanent1 and to grasp the necessary conditions of their existence1 suppressing all accidental limits4 ,no doubt this transcendental procedure will remove us for some time from the familiar circle of phenomena1 and the living presence of objects1 to keep us on the unproductive ground of abstract idea2 but we are engaged in the search after a principle of knowledge solid enough not to be shaken by anything1 and the man who does not dare to rise above reality will never conquer this truth4 ,,letter ,,xi4 ,if abstraction rises to as great an elevation as possible1 it arrives at two primary ideas1 before which it is obliged to stop and to recognize its limits4 ,it distinguishes in man something that continues1 and something that changes incessantly4 ,that which continues it names his person2 that which changes his position1 his condition4 ,the person and the condition1 ,i and my determinations1 which we represent as one and the same thing in the necessary being1 are eternally distinct in the finite being4 ,notwithstanding all continuance in the person1 the condition changes2 in spite of all change of condition the person remains4 ,we pass from rest to activity1 from emotion to indifference1 from assent to contradiction1 but we are always we ourselves1 and what immediately springs from ourselves remains4 ,it is only in the absolute subject that all his determinations continue with his personality4 ,all that ,divinity is1 it is because it is so2 consequently it is eternally what it is1 because it is eternal4 ,as the person and the condition are distinct in man1 because he is a finite being1 the condition cannot be founded on the person1 nor the person on the condition4 ,admitting the second case1 the person would have to change2 and in the former case1 the condition would have to continue4 ,thus in either supposition1 either the personality or the quality of a finite being would necessarily cease4 ,it is not because we think1 feel1 and will that we are2 it is not because we are that we think1 feel1 and will4 ,we are because we are4 ,we feel1 think1 and will because there is out of us something that is not ourselves4 ,consequently the person must have its principle of existence in itself1 because the permanent cannot be derived from the changeable1 and thus we should be at once in possession of the idea of the absolute being1 founded on itself2 that is to say1 of the idea of freedom4 ,the condition must have a foundation1 and as it is not through the person1 and is not therefore absolute1 it must be a sequence and a result2 and thus1 in the second place1 we should have arrived at the condition of every independent being1 of everything in the process of becoming something else3 that is1 of the idea of tine4 ,time is the necessary condition of all processes1 of becoming 7,werden72 this is an identical proposition1 for it says nothing but this3 ,that something may follow1 there must be a succession4 ,the person which manifested itself in the eternally continuing ,ego1 or ,i myself1 and only in him1 cannot become something or begin in time1 because it is much rather time that must begin with him1 because the permanent must serve as basis to the changeable4 ,that change may take place1 something must change2 this something cannot therefore be the change itself4 ,when we say the flower opens and fades1 we make of this flower a permanent being in the midst of this transformation2 we lend it1 in some sort1 a personality1 in which these two conditions are manifested4 ,it cannot be objected that man is born1 and becomes something2 for man is not only a person simply1 but he is a person finding himself in a determinate condition4 ,now our determinate state of condition springs up in time1 and it is thus that man1 as a phenomenon or appearance1 must have a beginning1 though in him pure intelligence is eternal4 ,without time1 that is1 without a becoming1 he would not be a determinate being2 his personality would exist virtually no doubt1 but not in action4 ,it is not by the succession of its perceptions that the immutable ,ego or person manifests himself to himself4 ,thus1 therefore1 the matter of activity1 or reality1 that the supreme intelligence draws from its own being1 must be received by man2 and he does1 in fact1 receive it1 through the medium of perception1 as something which is outside him in space1 and which changes in him in time4 ,this matter which changes in him is always accompanied by the ,ego1 the personality1 that never changes2 and the rule prescribed for man by his rational nature is to remain immutably himself in the midst of change1 to refer all perceptions to experience1 that is1 to the unity of knowledge1 and to make of each of its manifestations of its modes in time the law of all time4 ,the matter only exists in as far as it changes3 he1 his personality1 only exists in as far as he does not change4 ,consequently1 represented in his perfection1 man would be the permanent unity1 which remains always the same1 among the waves of change4 ,now1 although an infinite being1 a divinity could not become 7or be subject to time71 still a tendency ought to be named divine which has for its infinite end the most characteristic attribute of the divinity2 the absolute manifestation of power--the reality of all the possible--and the absolute unity of the manifestation 7the necessity of all reality74 ,it cannot be disputed that man bears within himself1 in his personality1 a predisposition for divinity4 ,the way to divinity--if the word way can be applied to what never leads to its end--is open to him in every direction4 ,considered in itself1 and independently of all sensuous matter1 his personality is nothing but the pure virtuality of a possible infinite manifestation2 and so long as there is neither intuition nor feeling1 it is nothing more than a form1 an empty power4 ,considered in itself1 and independently of all spontaneous activity of the mind1 sensuousness can only make a material man2 without it1 it is a pure form2 but it cannot in any way establish a union between matter and it4 ,so long as he only feels1 wishes1 and acts under the influence of desire1 he is nothing more than the world1 if by this word we point out only the formless contents of time4 ,without doubt1 it is only his sensuousness that makes his strength pass into efficacious acts1 but it is his personality alone that makes this activity his own4 ,thus1 that he may not only be a world1 he must give form to matter1 and in order not to be a mere form1 he must give reality to the virtuality that he bears in him4 ,he gives matter to form by creating time1 and by opposing the immutable to change1 the diversity of the world to the eternal unity of the ,ego4 ,he gives a form to matter by again suppressing time1 by maintaining permanence in change1 and by placing the diversity of the world under the unity of the ,ego4 ,now from this source issue for man two opposite exigencies1 the two fundamental laws of sensuous-rational nature4 ,the first has for its object absolute reality2 it must make a world of what is only form1 manifest all that in it is only a force4 ,the second law has for its object absolute formality2 it must destroy in him all that is only world1 and carry out harmony in all changes4 ,in other terms1 he must manifest all that is internal1 and give form to all that is external4 ,considered in its most lofty accomplishment1 this twofold labor brings back to the idea of humanity1 which was my starting-point4 ,,letter ,,xii4 ,this twofold labor or task1 which consists in making the necessary pass into reality in us and in making out of us reality subject to the law of necessity1 is urged upon us as a duty by two opposing forces1 which are justly styled impulsions or instincts1 because they impel us to realize their object4 ,the first of these impulsions1 which ,i shall call the sensuous instinct1 issues from the physical existence of man1 or from sensuous nature2 and it is this instinct which tends to enclose him in the limits of time1 and to make of him a material being2 ,i do not say to give him matter1 for to do that a certain free activity of the personality would be necessary1 which1 receiving matter1 distinguishes it from the ,ego1 or what is permanent4 ,by matter ,i only understand in this place the change or reality that fills time4 ,consequently the instinct requires that there should be change1 and that time should contain something4 ,this simply filled state of time is named sensation1 and it is only in this state that physical existence manifests itself4 ,as all that is in time is successive1 it follows by that fact alone that something is3 all the remainder is excluded4 ,when one note on an instrument is touched1 among all those that it virtually offers1 this note alone is real4 ,when man is actually modified1 the infinite possibility of all his modifications is limited to this single mode of existence4 ,thus1 then1 the exclusive action of sensuous impulsion has for its necessary consequence the narrowest limitation4 ,in this state man is only a unity of magnitude1 a complete moment in time2 or1 to speak more correctly1 he is not1 for his personality is suppressed as long as sensation holds sway over him and carries time along with it4 ,this instinct extends its domains over the entire sphere of the finite in man1 and as form is only revealed in matter1 and the absolute by means of its limits1 the total manifestation of human nature is connected on a close analysis with the sensuous instinct4 ,but though it is only this instinct that awakens and develops what exists virtually in man1 it is nevertheless this very instinct which renders his perfection impossible4 ,it binds down to the world of sense by indestructible ties the spirit that tends higher1 and it calls back to the limits of the present1 abstraction which had its free development in the sphere of the infinite4 ,no doubt1 thought can escape it for a moment1 and a firm will victoriously resist its exigencies3 but soon compressed nature resumes her rights to give an imperious reality to our existence1 to give it contents1 substance1 knowledge1 and an aim for our activity4 ,the second impulsion1 which may be named the formal instinct1 issues from the absolute existence of man1 or from his rational nature1 and tends to set free1 and bring harmony into the diversity of its manifestations1 and to maintain personality notwithstanding all the changes of state4 ,as this personality1 being an absolute and indivisible unity1 can never be in contradiction with itself1 as we are ourselves forever1 this impulsion1 which tends to maintain personality1 can never exact in one time anything but what it exacts and requires forever4 ,it therefore decides for always what it decides now1 and orders now what it orders forever4 ,hence it embraces the whole series of times1 or what comes to the same thing1 it suppresses time and change4 ,it wishes the real to be necessary and eternal1 and it wishes the eternal and the necessary to be real2 in other terms1 it tends to truth and justice4 ,if the sensuous instinct only produces accidents1 the formal instinct gives laws1 laws for every judgment when it is a question of knowledge1 laws for every will when it is a question of action4 ,whether1 therefore1 we recognize an object or conceive an objective value to a state of the subject1 whether we act in virtue of knowledge or make of the objective the determining principle of our state2 in both cases we withdraw this state from the jurisdiction of time1 and we attribute to it reality for all men and for all time1 that is1 universality and necessity4 ,feeling can only say3 ,that is true for this subject and at this moment1 and there may come another moment1 another subject1 which withdraws the affirmation from the actual feeling4 ,but when once thought pronounces and says3 ,that is1 it decides forever and ever1 and the validity of its decision is guaranteed by the personality itself1 which defies all change4 ,inclination can only say3 ,that is good for your individuality and present necessity2 but the changing current of affairs will sweep them away1 and what you ardently desire to-day will form the object of your aversion to-morrow4 ,but when the moral feeling says3 ,that ought to be1 it decides forever4 ,if you confess the truth because it is the truth1 and if you practise justice because it is justice1 you have made of a particular case the law of all possible cases1 and treated one moment of your life as eternity4 ,accordingly1 when the formal impulse holds sway and the pure object acts in us1 the being attains its highest expansion1 all barriers disappear1 and from the unity of magnitude in which man was enclosed by a narrow sensuousness1 he rises to the unity of idea1 which embraces and keeps subject the entire sphere of phenomena4 ,during this operation we are no longer in time1 but time is in us with its infinite succession4 ,we are no longer individuals but a species2 the judgment of all spirits is expressed by our own1 and the choice of all hearts is represented by our own act4 ,,letter ,,xiii4 ,on a first survey1 nothing appears more opposed than these two impulsions2 one having for its object change1 the other immutability1 and yet it is these two notions that exhaust the notion of humanity1 and a third fundamental impulsion1 holding a medium between them1 is quite inconceivable4 ,how then shall we re-establish the unity of human nature1 a unity that appears completely destroyed by this primitive and radical opposition8 ,i admit these two tendencies are contradictory1 but it should be noticed that they are not so in the same objects4 ,but things that do not meet cannot come into collision4 ,no doubt the sensuous impulsion desires change2 but it does not wish that it should extend to personality and its field1 nor that there should be a change of principles4 ,the formal impulsion seeks unity and permanence1 but it does not wish the condition to remain fixed with the person1 that there should be identity of feeling4 ,therefore these two impulsions are not divided by nature1 and if1 nevertheless1 they appear so1 it is because they have become divided by transgressing nature freely1 by ignoring themselves1 and by confounding their spheres4 ,the office of culture is to watch over them and to secure to each one its proper limits2 therefore culture has to give equal justice to both1 and to defend not only the rational impulsion against the sensuous1 but also the latter against the former4 ,hence she has to act a twofold part3 first1 to protect sense against the attacks of freedom2 secondly1 to secure personality against the power of sensations4 ,one of these ends is attained by the cultivation of the sensuous1 the other by that of reason4 ,since the world is developed in time1 or change1 the perfection of the faculty that places men in relation with the world will necessarily be the greatest possible mutability and extensiveness4 ,since personality is permanence in change1 the perfection of this faculty1 which must be opposed to change1 will be the greatest possible freedom of action 7autonomy7 and intensity4 ,the more the receptivity is developed under manifold aspects1 the more it is movable and offers surfaces to phenomena1 the larger is the part of the world seized upon by man1 and the more virtualities he develops in himself4 ,again1 in proportion as man gains strength and depth1 and depth and reason gain in freedom1 in that proportion man takes in a larger share of the world1 and throws out forms outside himself4 ,therefore his culture will consist1 first1 in placing his receptivity in contact with the world in the greatest number of points possible1 and in raising passivity1 to the highest exponent on the side of feeling2 secondly1 in procuring for the determining faculty the greatest possible amount of independence1 in relation to the receptive power1 and in raising activity to the highest degree on the side of reason4 ,by the union of these two qualities man will associate the highest degree of self-spontaneity 7autonomy7 and of freedom with the fullest plenitude of existence1 and instead of abandoning himself to the world so as to get lost in it1 he will rather absorb it in himself1 with all the infinitude of its phenomena1 and subject it to the unity of his reason4 ,but man can invert this relation1 and thus fail in attaining his destination in two ways4 ,he can hand over to the passive force the intensity demanded by the active force2 he can encroach by material impulsion on the formal impulsion1 and convert the receptive into the determining power4 ,he can attribute to the active force the extensiveness belonging to the passive force1 he can encroach by the formal impulsion on the material impulsion1 and substitute the determining for the receptive power4 ,in the former case1 he will never be an ,ego1 a personality2 in the second case1 he will never be a ,non-,ego1 and hence in both cases he will be neither the one nor the other1 consequently he will be nothing4 ,in fact1 if the sensuous impulsion becomes determining1 if the senses become lawgivers1 and if the world stifles personality1 he loses as object what he gains in force4 ,it may be said of man that when he is only the contents of time1 he is not and consequently he has no other contents4 ,his condition is destroyed at the same time as his personality1 because these are two correlative ideas1 because change presupposes permanence1 and a limited reality implies an infinite reality4 ,if the formal impulsion becomes receptive1 that is1 if thought anticipates sensation1 and the person substitutes itself in the place of the world1 it loses as a subject and autonomous force what it gains as object1 because immutability implies change1 and that to manifest itself also absolute reality requires limits4 ,as soon as man is only form1 he has no form1 and the personality vanishes with the condition4 ,in a word1 it is only inasmuch as he is spontaneous1 autonomous1 that there is reality out of him1 that he is also receptive2 and it is only inasmuch as he is receptive that there is reality in him1 that he is a thinking force4 ,consequently these two impulsions require limits1 and looked upon as forces1 they need tempering2 the former that it may not encroach on the field of legislation1 the latter that it may not invade the ground of feeling4 ,but this tempering and moderating the sensuous impulsion ought not to be the effect of physical impotence or of a blunting of sensations1 which is always a matter for contempt4 ,it must be a free act1 an activity of the person1 which by its moral intensity moderates the sensuous intensity1 and by the sway of impressions takes from them in depth what it gives them in surface or breadth4 ,the character must place limits to temperament1 for the senses have only the right to lose elements if it be to the advantage of the mind4 ,in its turn1 the tempering of the formal impulsion must not result from moral impotence1 from a relaxation of thought and will1 which would degrade humanity4 ,it is necessary that the glorious source of this second tempering should be the fulness of sensations2 it is necessary that sensuousness itself should defend its field with a victorious arm and resist the violence that the invading activity of the mind would do to it4 ,in a word1 it is necessary that the material impulsion should be contained in the limits of propriety by personality1 and the formal impulsion by receptivity or nature4 ,,letter ,,xiv4 ,we have been brought to the idea of such a correlation between the two impulsions that the action of the one establishes and limits at the same time the action of the other1 and that each of them1 taken in isolation1 does arrive at its highest manifestation just because the other is active4 ,no doubt this correlation of the two impulsions is simply a problem advanced by reason1 and which man will only be able to solve in the perfection of his being4 ,it is in the strictest signification of the term3 the idea of his humanity2 accordingly1 it is an infinite to which he can approach nearer and nearer in the course of time1 but without ever reaching it4 ,he ought not to aim at form to the injury of reality1 nor to reality to the detriment of the form4 ,he must rather seek the absolute being by means of a determinate being1 and the determinate being by means of an infinite being4 ,he must set the world before him because he is a person1 and he must be a person because he has the world before him4 ,he must feel because he has a consciousness of himself1 and he must have a consciousness of himself because he feels4 ,it is only in conformity with this idea that he is a man in the full sense of the word2 but he cannot be convinced of this so long as he gives himself up exclusively to one of these two impulsions1 or only satisfies them one after the other4 ,for as long as he only feels1 his absolute personality and existence remain a mystery to him1 and as long as he only thinks1 his condition or existence in time escapes him4 ,but if there were cases in which he could have at once this twofold experience in which he would have the consciousness of his freedom and the feeling of his existence together1 in which he would simultaneously feel as matter and know himself as spirit1 in such cases1 and in such only1 would he have a complete intuition of his humanity1 and the object that would procure him this intuition would be a symbol of his accomplished destiny and consequently serve to express the infinite to him--since this destination can only be fulfilled in the fulness of time4 ,presuming that cases of this kind could present themselves in experience1 they would awake in him a new impulsion1 which1 precisely because the other two impulsions would co-operate in it1 would be opposed to each of them taken in isolation1 and might1 with good grounds1 be taken for a new impulsion4 ,the sensuous impulsion requires that there should be change1 that time should have contents2 the formal impulsion requires that time should be suppressed1 that there should be no change4 ,consequently1 the impulsion in which both of the others act in concert--allow me to call it the instinct of play1 till ,i explain the term--the instinct of play would have as its object to suppress time in time1 to conciliate the state of transition or becoming with the absolute being1 change with identity4 ,the sensuous instinct wishes to be determined1 it wishes to receive an object2 the formal instinct wishes to determine itself1 it wishes to produce an object4 ,therefore the instinct of play will endeavor to receive as it would itself have produced1 and to produce as it aspires to receive4 ,the sensuous impulsion excludes from its subject all autonomy and freedom2 the formal impulsion excludes all dependence and passivity4 ,but the exclusion of freedom is physical necessity2 the exclusion of passivity is moral necessity4 ,thus the two impulsions subdue the mind3 the former to the laws of nature1 the latter to the laws of reason4 ,it results from this that the instinct of play1 which unites the double action of the two other instincts1 will content the mind at once morally and physically4 ,hence1 as it suppresses all that is contingent1 it will also suppress all coercion1 and will set man free physically and morally4 ,when we welcome with effusion some one who deserves our contempt1 we feel painfully that nature is constrained4 ,when we have a hostile feeling against a person who commands our esteem1 we feel painfully the constraint of reason4 ,but if this person inspires us with interest1 and also wins our esteem1 the constraint of feeling vanishes together with the constraint of reason1 and we begin to love him1 that is to say1 to play1 to take recreation1 at once with our inclination and our esteem4 ,moreover1 as the sensuous impulsion controls us physically1 and the formal impulsion morally1 the former makes our formal constitution contingent1 and the latter makes our material constitution contingent1 that is to say1 there is contingence in the agreement of our happiness with our perfection1 and reciprocally4 ,the instinct of play1 in which both act in concert1 will render both our formal and our material constitution contingent2 accordingly1 our perfection and our happiness in like manner4 ,and on the other hand1 exactly because it makes both of them contingent1 and because the contingent disappears with necessity1 it will suppress this contingence in both1 and will thus give form to matter and reality to form4 ,in proportion that it will lessen the dynamic influence of feeling and passion1 it will place them in harmony with rational ideas1 and by taking from the laws of reason their moral constraint1 it will reconcile them with the interest of the senses4 ,,letter ,,xv4 ,i approach continually nearer to the end to which ,i lead you1 by a path offering few attractions4 ,be pleased to follow me a few steps further1 and a large horizon will open up to you1 and a delightful prospect will reward you for the labor of the way4 ,the object of the sensuous instinct1 expressed in a universal conception1 is named ,life in the widest acceptation2 a conception that expresses all material existence and all that is immediately present in the senses4 ,the object of the formal instinct1 expressed in a universal conception1 is called shape or form1 as well in an exact as in an inexact acceptation2 a conception that embraces all formal qualities of things and all relations of the same to the thinking powers4 ,the object of the play instinct1 represented in a general statement1 may therefore bear the name of living form2 a term that serves to describe all aesthetic qualities of phenomena1 and what people style1 in the widest sense1 beauty4 ,beauty is neither extended to the whole field of all living things nor merely enclosed in this field4 ,a marble block1 though it is and remains lifeless1 can nevertheless become a living form by the architect and sculptor2 a man1 though he lives and has a form1 is far from being a living form on that account4 ,for this to be the case1 it is necessary that his form should be life1 and that his life should be a form4 ,as long as we only think of his form1 it is lifeless1 a mere abstraction2 as long as we only feel his life1 it is without form1 a mere impression4 ,it is only when his form lives in our feeling1 and his life in our understanding1 he is the living form1 and this will everywhere be the case where we judge him to be beautiful4 ,but the genesis of beauty is by no means declared because we know how to point out the component parts1 which in their combination produce beauty4 ,for to this end it would be necessary to comprehend that combination itself1 which continues to defy our exploration1 as well as all mutual operation between the finite and the infinite4 ,the reason1 on transcendental grounds1 makes the following demand3 ,there shall be a communion between the formal impulse and the material impulse--that is1 there shall be a play instinct--because it is only the unity of reality with the form1 of the accidental with the necessary1 of the passive state with freedom1 that the conception of humanity is completed4 ,reason is obliged to make this demand1 because her nature impels her to completeness and to the removal of all bounds2 while every exclusive activity of one or the other impulse leaves human nature incomplete and places a limit in it4 ,accordingly1 as soon as reason issues the mandate1 a humanity shall exist1 it proclaims at the same time the law1 there shall be a beauty4 ,experience can answer us if there is a beauty1 and we shall know it as soon as she has taught us if a humanity can exist4 ,but neither reason nor experience can tell us how beauty can be and how a humanity is possible4 ,we know that man is neither exclusively matter nor exclusively spirit4 ,accordingly1 beauty as the consummation of humanity1 can neither be exclusively mere life1 as has been asserted by sharp-sighted observers1 who kept too close to the testimony of experience1 and to which the taste of the time would gladly degrade it2 ,nor can beauty be merely form1 as has been judged by speculative sophists1 who departed too far from experience1 and by philosophic artists1 who were led too much by the necessity of art in explaining beauty2 it is rather the common object of both impulses1 that is of the play instinct4 ,the use of language completely justifies this name1 as it is wont to qualify with the word play what is neither subjectively nor objectively accidental1 and yet does not impose necessity either externally or internally4 ,as the mind in the intuition of the beautiful finds itself in a happy medium between law and necessity1 it is1 because it divides itself between both1 emancipated from the pressure of both4 ,the formal impulse and the material impulse are equally earnest in their demands1 because one relates in its cognition to things in their reality and the other to their necessity2 because in action the first is directed to the preservation of life1 the second to the preservation of dignity1 and therefore both to truth and perfection4 ,but life becomes more indifferent when dignity is mixed up with it1 and duty no longer coerces when inclination attracts4 ,in like manner the mind takes in the reality of things1 material truth1 more freely and tranquilly as soon as it encounters formal truth1 the law of necessity2 nor does the mind find itself strung by abstraction as soon as immediate intuition can accompany it4 ,in one word1 when the mind comes into communion with ideas1 all reality loses its serious value because it becomes small2 and as it comes in contact with feeling1 necessity parts also with its serious value because it is easy4 ,but perhaps the objection has for some time occurred to you1 ,is not the beautiful degraded by this1 that it is made a mere play8 and is it not reduced to the level of frivolous objects which have for ages passed under that name8 ,does it not contradict the conception of the reason and the dignity of beauty1 which is nevertheless regarded as an instrument of culture1 to confine it to the work of being a mere play8 and does it not contradict the empirical conception of play1 which can coexist with the exclusion of all taste1 to confine it merely to beauty8 ,but what is meant by a mere play1 when we know that in all conditions of humanity that very thing is play1 and only that is play which makes man complete and develops simultaneously his twofold nature8 ,what you style limitation1 according to your representation of the matter1 according to my views1 which ,i have justified by proofs1 ,i name enlargement4 ,consequently ,i should have said exactly the reverse3 man is serious only with the agreeable1 with the good1 and with the perfect1 but he plays with beauty4 ,in saying this we must not indeed think of the plays that are in vogue in real life1 and which commonly refer only to his material state4 ,but in real life we should also seek in vain for the beauty of which we are here speaking4 ,the actually present beauty is worthy of the really1 of the actually present play-impulse2 but by the ideal of beauty1 which is set up by the reason1 an ideal of the play-instinct is also presented1 which man ought to have before his eyes in all his plays4 ,therefore1 no error will ever be incurred if we seek the ideal of beauty on the same road on which we satisfy our play-impulse4 ,we can immediately understand why the ideal form of a ,venus1 of a ,juno1 and of an ,apollo1 is to be sought not at ,rome1 but in ,greece1 if we contrast the ,greek population1 delighting in the bloodless athletic contests of boxing1 racing1 and intellectual rivalry at ,olympia1 with the ,roman people gloating over the agony of a gladiator4 ,now the reason pronounces that the beautiful must not only be life and form1 but a living form1 that is1 beauty1 inasmuch as it dictates to man the twofold law of absolute formality and absolute reality4 ,reason also utters the decision that man shall only play with beauty1 and he shall only play with beauty4 ,for1 to speak out once for all1 man only plays when in the full meaning of the word he is a man1 and he is only completely a man when he plays4 ,this proposition1 which at this moment perhaps appears paradoxical1 will receive a great and deep meaning if we have advanced far enough to apply it to the twofold seriousness of duty and of destiny4 ,i promise you that the whole edifice of aesthetic art and the still more difficult art of life will be supported by this principle4 ,but this proposition is only unexpected in science2 long ago it lived and worked in art and in the feeling of the ,greeks1 her most accomplished masters2 only they removed to ,olympus what ought to have been preserved on earth4 ,influenced by the truth of this principle1 they effaced from the brow of their gods the earnestness and labor which furrow the cheeks of mortals1 and also the hollow lust that smoothes the empty face4 ,they set free the ever serene from the chains of every purpose1 of every duty1 of every care1 and they made indolence and indifference the envied condition of the godlike race2 merely human appellations for the freest and highest mind4 ,as well the material pressure of natural laws as the spiritual pressure of moral laws lost itself in its higher idea of necessity1 which embraced at the same time both worlds1 and out of the union of these two necessities issued true freedom4 ,inspired by this spirit the ,greeks also effaced from the features of their ideal1 together with desire or inclination1 all traces of volition1 or1 better still1 they made both unrecognizable1 because they knew how to wed them both in the closest alliance4 ,it is neither charm1 nor is it dignity1 which speaks from the glorious face of ,juno ,ludovici2 it is neither of these1 for it is both at once4 ,while the female god challenges our veneration1 the godlike woman at the same time kindles our love4 ,but while in ecstacy we give ourselves up to the heavenly beauty1 the heavenly self-repose awes us back4 ,the whole form rests and dwells in itself--a fully complete creation in itself--and as if she were out of space1 without advance or resistance2 it shows no force contending with force1 no opening through which time could break in4 ,irresistibly carried away and attracted by her womanly charm1 kept off at a distance by her godly dignity1 we also find ourselves at length in the state of the greatest repose1 and the result is a wonderful impression for which the understanding has no idea and language no name4 ,,letter ,,xvi4 ,from the antagonism of the two impulsions1 and from the association of two opposite principles1 we have seen beauty to result1 of which the highest ideal must therefore be sought in the most perfect union and equilibrium possible of the reality and of the form4 ,but this equilibrium remains always an idea that reality can never completely reach4 ,in reality1 there will always remain a preponderance of one of these elements over the other1 and the highest point to which experience can reach will consist in an oscillation between two principles1 when sometimes reality and at others form will have the advantage4 ,ideal beauty is therefore eternally one and indivisible1 because there can only be one single equilibrium2 on the contrary1 experimental beauty will be eternally double1 because in the oscillation the equilibrium may be destroyed in two ways--this side and that4 ,i have called attention in the foregoing letters to a fact that can also be rigorously deduced from the considerations that have engaged our attention to the present point2 this fact is that an exciting and also a moderating action may be expected from the beautiful4 ,the tempering action is directed to keep within proper limits the sensuous and the formal impulsions2 the exciting1 to maintain both of them in their full force4 ,but these two modes of action of beauty ought to be completely identified in the idea4 ,the beautiful ought to temper while uniformly exciting the two natures1 and it ought also to excite while uniformly moderating them4 ,this result flows at once from the idea of a correlation1 in virtue of which the two terms mutually imply each other1 and are the reciprocal condition one of the other1 a correlation of which the purest product is beauty4 ,but experience does not offer an example of so perfect a correlation4 ,in the field of experience it will always happen more or less that excess on the one side will give rise to deficiency on the other1 and deficiency will give birth to excess4 ,it results from this that what in the beau-ideal is only distinct in the idea is different in reality in empirical beauty4 ,the beau-ideal1 though simple and indivisible1 discloses1 when viewed in two different aspects1 on the one hand1 a property of gentleness and grace1 and on the other1 an energetic property2 in experience there is a gentle and graceful beauty and there is an energetic beauty4 ,it is so1 and it will be always so1 so long as the absolute is enclosed in the limits of time1 and the ideas of reason have to be realized in humanity4 ,for example1 the intellectual man has the ideal of virtue1 of truth1 and of happiness2 but the active man will only practise virtues1 will only grasp truths1 and enjoy happy days4 ,the business of physical and moral education is to bring back this multiplicity to unity1 to put morality in the place of manners1 science in the place of knowledge2 the business of aesthetic education is to make out of beauties the beautiful4 ,energetic beauty can no more preserve a man from a certain residue of savage violence and harshness than graceful beauty can secure him against a certain degree of effeminacy and weakness4 ,as it is the effect of the energetic beauty to elevate the mind in a physical and moral point of view and to augment its momentum1 it only too often happens that the resistance of the temperament and of the character diminishes the aptitude to receive impressions1 that the delicate part of humanity suffers an oppression which ought only to affect its grosser part1 and that this coarse nature participates in an increase of force that ought only to turn to the account of free personality4 ,it is for this reason that1 at the periods when we find much strength and abundant sap in humanity1 true greatness of thought is seen associated with what is gigantic and extravagant1 and the sublimest feeling is found coupled with the most horrible excess of passion4 ,it is also the reason why1 in the periods distinguished for regularity and form1 nature is as often oppressed as it is governed1 as often outraged as it is surpassed4 ,and as the action of gentle and graceful beauty is to relax the mind in the moral sphere as well as the physical1 it happens quite as easily that the energy of feelings is extinguished with the violence of desires1 and that character shares in the loss of strength which ought only to affect the passions4 ,this is the reason why1 in ages assumed to be refined1 it is not a rare thing to see gentleness degenerate into effeminacy1 politeness into platitude1 correctness into empty sterility1 liberal ways into arbitrary caprice1 ease into frivolity1 calm into apathy1 and1 lastly1 a most miserable caricature treads on the heels of the noblest1 the most beautiful type of humanity4 ,gentle and graceful beauty is therefore a want to the man who suffers the constraint of manner and of forms1 for he is moved by grandeur and strength long before he becomes sensible to harmony and grace4 ,energetic beauty is a necessity to the man who is under the indulgent sway of taste1 for in his state of refinement he is only too much disposed to make light of the strength that he retained in his state of rude savagism4 ,i think ,i have now answered and also cleared up the contradiction commonly met in the judgments of men respecting the influence of the beautiful1 and the appreciation of aesthetic culture4 ,this contradiction is explained directly we remember that there are two sorts of experimental beauty1 and that on both hands an affirmation is extended to the entire race1 when it can only be proved of one of the species4 ,this contradiction disappears the moment we distinguish a twofold want in humanity to which two kinds of beauty correspond4 ,it is therefore probable that both sides would make good their claims if they come to an understanding respecting the kind of beauty and the form of humanity that they have in view4 ,consequently in the sequel of my researches ,i shall adopt the course that nature herself follows with man considered from the point of view of aesthetics1 and setting out from the two kinds of beauty1 ,i shall rise to the idea of the genus4 ,i shall examine the effects produced on man by the gentle and graceful beauty when its springs of action are in full play1 and also those produced by energetic beauty when they are relaxed4 ,i shall do this to confound these two sorts of beauty in the unity of the beau-ideal1 in the same way that the two opposite forms and modes of being of humanity are absorbed in the unity of the ideal man4 ,,letter ,,xvii4 ,while we were only engaged in deducing the universal idea of beauty from the conception of human nature in general1 we had only to consider in the latter the limits established essentially in itself1 and inseparable from the notion of the finite4 ,without attending to the contingent restrictions that human nature may undergo in the real world of phenomena1 we have drawn the conception of this nature directly from reason1 as a source of every necessity1 and the ideal of beauty has been given us at the same time with the ideal of humanity4 ,but now we are coming down from the region of ideas to the scene of reality1 to find man in a determinate state1 and consequently in limits which are not derived from the pure conception of humanity1 but from external circumstances and from an accidental use of his freedom4 ,but1 although the limitation of the idea of humanity may be very manifold in the individual1 the contents of this idea suffice to teach us that we can only depart from it by two opposite roads4 ,for if the perfection of man consist in the harmonious energy of his sensuous and spiritual forces1 he can only lack this perfection through the want of harmony and the want of energy4 ,thus1 then1 before having received on this point the testimony of experience1 reason suffices to assure us that we shall find the real and consequently limited man in a state of tension or relaxation1 according as the exclusive activity of isolated forces troubles the harmony of his being1 or as the unity of his nature is based on the uniform relaxation of his physical and spiritual forces4 ,these opposite limits are1 as we have now to prove1 suppressed by the beautiful1 which re-establishes harmony in man when excited1 and energy in man when relaxed2 and which1 in this way1 in conformity with the nature of the beautiful1 restores the state of limitation to an absolute state1 and makes of man a whole1 complete in himself4 ,thus the beautiful by no means belies in reality the idea which we have made of it in speculation2 only its action is much less free in it than in the field of theory1 where we were able to apply it to the pure conception of humanity4 ,in man1 as experience shows him to us1 the beautiful finds a matter1 already damaged and resisting1 which robs him in ideal perfection of what it communicates to him of its individual mode of being4 ,accordingly in reality the beautiful will always appear a peculiar and limited species1 and not as the pure genus2 in excited minds in a state of tension it will lose its freedom and variety2 in relaxed minds1 it will lose its vivifying force2 but we1 who have become familiar with the true character of this contradictory phenomenon1 cannot be led astray by it4 ,we shall not follow the great crowd of critics1 in determining their conception by separate experiences1 and to make them answerable for the deficiencies which man shows under their influence4 ,we know rather that it is man who transfers the imperfections of his individuality over to them1 who stands perpetually in the way of their perfection by his subjective limitation1 and lowers their absolute ideal to two limited forms of phenomena4 ,it was advanced that soft beauty is for an unstrung mind1 and the energetic beauty for the tightly strung mind4 ,but ,i apply the term unstrung to a man when he is rather under the pressure of feelings than under the pressure of conceptions4 ,every exclusive sway of one of his two fundamental impulses is for man a state of compulsion and violence1 and freedom only exists in the co-operation of his two natures4 ,accordingly1 the man governed preponderately by feelings1 or sensuously unstrung1 is emancipated and set free by matter4 ,the soft and graceful beauty1 to satisfy this twofold problem1 must therefore show herself under two aspects--in two distinct forms4 ,first1 as a form in repose1 she will tone down savage life1 and pave the way from feeling to thought4 ,she will1 secondly1 as a living image1 equip the abstract form with sensuous power1 and lead back the conception to intuition and law to feeling4 ,the former service she does to the man of nature1 the second to the man of art4 ,but because she does not in both cases hold complete sway over her matter1 but depends on that which is furnished either by formless nature or unnatural art1 she will in both cases bear traces of her origin1 and lose herself in one place in material life and in another in mere abstract form4 ,to be able to arrive at a conception how beauty can become a means to remove this twofold relaxation1 we must explore its source in the human mind4 ,accordingly1 make up your mind to dwell a little longer in the region of speculation1 in order then to leave it forever1 and to advance with securer footing on the ground of experience4 ,,letter ,,xviii4 ,by beauty the sensuous man is led to form and to thought2 by beauty the spiritual man is brought back to matter and restored to the world of sense4 ,from this statement it would appear to follow that between matter and form1 between passivity and activity1 there must be a middle state1 and that beauty plants us in this state4 ,it actually happens that the greater part of mankind really form this conception of beauty as soon as they begin to reflect on its operations1 and all experience seems to point to this conclusion4 ,but1 on the other hand1 nothing is more unwarrantable and contradictory than such a conception1 because the aversion of matter and form1 the passive and the active1 feeling and thought1 is eternal1 and cannot be mediated in any way4 ,how can we remove this contradiction8 ,beauty weds the two opposed conditions of feeling and thinking1 and yet there is absolutely no medium between them4 ,the former is immediately certain through experience1 the other through the reason4 ,this is the point to which the whole question of beauty leads1 and if we succeed in settling this point in a satisfactory way1 we have at length found the clue that will conduct us through the whole labyrinth of aesthetics4 ,but this requires two very different operations1 which must necessarily support each other in this inquiry4 ,beauty1 it is said1 weds two conditions with one another which are opposite to each other1 and can never be one4 ,we must start from this opposition2 we must grasp and recognize them in their entire purity and strictness1 so that both conditions are separated in the most definite manner2 otherwise we mix1 but we do not unite them4 ,secondly1 it is usual to say1 beauty unites those two opposed conditions1 and therefore removes the opposition4 ,but because both conditions remain eternally opposed to one another1 they cannot be united in any other way than by being suppressed4 ,our second business is therefore to make this connection perfect1 to carry them out with such purity and perfection that both conditions disappear entirely in a third one1 and no trace of separation remains in the whole2 otherwise we segregate1 but do not unite4 ,all the disputes that have ever prevailed and still prevail in the philosophical world respecting the conception of beauty have no other origin than their commencing without a sufficiently strict distinction1 or that it is not carried out fully to a pure union4 ,those philosophers who blindly follow their feeling in reflecting on this topic can obtain no other conception of beauty1 because they distinguish nothing separate in the totality of the sensuous impression4 ,other philosophers1 who take the understanding as their exclusive guide1 can never obtain a conception of beauty1 because they never see anything else in the whole than the parts2 and spirit and matter remain eternally separate1 even in their most perfect unity4 ,the first fear to suppress beauty dynamically1 that is1 as a working power1 if they must separate what is united in the feeling4 ,the others fear to suppress beauty logically1 that is1 as a conception1 when they have to hold together what in the understanding is separate4 ,the former wish to think of beauty as it works2 the latter wish it to work as it is thought4 ,both therefore must miss the truth2 the former1 because they try to follow infinite nature with their limited thinking power2 the others1 because they wish to limit unlimited nature according to their laws of thought4 ,the first fear to rob beauty of its freedom by a too strict dissection1 the others fear to destroy the distinctness of the conception by a too violent union4 ,but the former do not reflect that the freedom in which they very properly place the essence of beauty is not lawlessness1 but harmony of laws2 not caprice1 but the highest internal necessity4 ,the others do not remember that distinctness1 which they with equal right demand from beauty1 does not consist in the exclusion of certain realities1 but the absolute including of all2 that is not therefore limitation but infinitude4 ,we shall avoid the quicksands on which both have made shipwreck if we begin from the two elements in which beauty divides itself before the understanding1 but then afterwards rise to a pure aesthetic unity by which it works on feeling1 and in which both those conditions completely disappear4 ,,letter ,,xix4 ,two principal and different states of passive and active capacity of being determined ,bestimmbarkeit can be distinguished in man2 in like manner two states of passive and active determination ,bestimmung4 ,the explanation of this proposition leads us most readily to our end4 ,the condition of the state of man before destination or direction is given him by the impression of the senses is an unlimited capacity of being determined4 ,the infinite of time and space is given to his imagination for its free use2 and1 because nothing is settled in this kingdom of the possible1 and therefore nothing is excluded from it1 this state of absence of determination can be named an empty infiniteness1 which must not by any means be confounded with an infinite void4 ,now it is necessary that his sensuous nature should be modified1 and that in the indefinite series of possible determinations one alone should become real4 ,one perception must spring up in it4 ,that which1 in the previous state of determinableness1 was only an empty potency becomes now an active force1 and receives contents2 but1 at the same time1 as an active force it receives a limit1 after having been1 as a simple power1 unlimited4 ,reality exists now1 but the infinite has disappeared4 ,to describe a figure in space1 we are obliged to limit infinite space2 to represent to ourselves a change in time1 we are obliged to divide the totality of time4 ,thus we only arrive at reality by limitation1 at the positive1 at a real position1 by negation or exclusion2 to determination1 by the suppression of our free determinableness4 ,but mere exclusion would never beget a reality1 nor would a mere sensuous impression ever give birth to a perception1 if there were not something from which it was excluded1 if by an absolute act of the mind the negation were not referred to something positive1 and if opposition did not issue out of non-position4 ,this act of the mind is styled judging or thinking1 and the result is named thought4 ,before we determine a place in space1 there is no space for us2 but without absolute space we could never determine a place4 ,the same is the case with time4 ,before we have an instant1 there is no time to us3 but without infinite time--eternity--we should never have a representation of the instant4 ,thus1 therefore1 we can only arrive at the whole by the part1 to the unlimited through limitation2 but reciprocally we only arrive at the part through the whole1 at limitation through the unlimited4 ,it follows from this1 that when it is affirmed of beauty that it mediates for man1 the transition from feeling to thought1 this must not be understood to mean that beauty can fill up the gap that separates feeling from thought1 the passive from the active4 ,this gap is infinite2 and1 without the interposition of a new and independent faculty1 it is impossible for the general to issue from the individual1 the necessary from the contingent4 ,thought is the immediate act of this absolute power1 which1 ,i admit1 can only be manifested in connection with sensuous impressions1 but which in this manifestation depends so little on the sensuous that it reveals itself specially in an opposition to it4 ,the spontaneity or autonomy with which it acts excludes every foreign influence2 and it is not in as far as it helps thought--which comprehends a manifest contradiction but only in as far as it procures for the intellectual faculties the freedom to manifest themselves in conformity with their proper laws4 ,it does it only because the beautiful can become a means of leading man from matter to form1 from feeling to laws1 from a limited existence to an absolute existence4 ,but this assumes that the freedom of the intellectual faculties can be balked1 which appears contradictory to the conception of an autonomous power4 ,for a power which only receives the matter of its activity from without can only be hindered in its action by the privation of this matter1 and consequently by way of negation2 it is therefore a misconception of the nature of the mind to attribute to the sensuous passions the power of oppressing positively the freedom of the mind4 ,experience does indeed present numerous examples where the rational forces appear compressed in proportion to the violence of the sensuous forces4 ,but instead of deducing this spiritual weakness from the energy of passion1 this passionate energy must rather be explained by the weakness of the human mind4 ,for the sense can only have a sway such as this over man when the mind has spontaneously neglected to assert its power4 ,yet in trying by these explanations to move one objection1 ,i appear to have exposed myself to another1 and ,i have only saved the autonomy of the mind at the cost of its unity4 ,for how can the mind derive at the same time from itself the principles of inactivity and of activity1 if it is not itself divided1 and if it is not in opposition with itself8 ,here we must remember that we have before us1 not the infinite mind1 but the finite4 ,the finite mind is that which only becomes active through the passive1 only arrives at the absolute through limitation1 and only acts and fashions in as far as it receives matter4 ,accordingly1 a mind of this nature must associate with the impulse towards form or the absolute1 an impulse towards matter or limitation1 conditions without which it could not have the former impulse nor satisfy it4 ,how can two such opposite tendencies exist together in the same being8 ,this is a problem that can no doubt embarrass the metaphysician1 but not the transcendental philosopher4 ,the latter does not presume to explain the possibility of things1 but he is satisfied with giving a solid basis to the knowledge that makes us understand the possibility of experience4 ,and as experience would be equally impossible without this autonomy in the mind1 and without the absolute unity of the mind1 it lays down these two conceptions as two conditions of experience equally necessary without troubling itself any more to reconcile them4 ,moreover1 this immanence of two fundamental impulses does not in any degree contradict the absolute unity of the mind1 as soon as the mind itself1 its selfhood1 is distinguished from those two motors4 ,no doubt1 these two impulses exist and act in it1 but itself is neither matter nor form1 nor the sensuous nor reason1 and this is a point that does not seem always to have occurred to those who only look upon the mind as itself acting when its acts are in harmony with reason1 and who declare it passive when its acts contradict reason4 ,arrived at its development1 each of these two fundamental impulsions tends of necessity and by its nature to satisfy itself2 but precisely because each of them has a necessary tendency1 and both nevertheless have an opposite tendency1 this twofold constraint mutually destroys itself1 and the will preserves an entire freedom between them both4 ,it is therefore the will that conducts itself like a power--as the basis of reality--with respect to both these impulses2 but neither of them can by itself act as a power with respect to the other4 ,a violent man1 by his positive tendency to justice1 which never fails in him1 is turned away from injustice2 nor can a temptation of pleasure1 however strong1 make a strong character violate its principles4 ,there is in man no other power than his will2 and death alone1 which destroys man1 or some privation of self-consciousness1 is the only thing that can rob man of his internal freedom4 ,an external necessity determines our condition1 our existence in time1 by means of the sensuous4 ,the latter is quite involuntary1 and directly it is produced in us we are necessarily passive4 ,in the same manner an internal necessity awakens our personality in connection with sensations1 and by its antagonism with them2 for consciousness cannot depend on the will1 which presupposes it4 ,this primitive manifestation of personality is no more a merit to us than its privation is a defect in us4 ,reason can only be required in a being who is self-conscious1 for reason is an absolute consecutiveness and universality of consciousness2 before this is the case he is not a man1 nor can any act of humanity be expected from him4 ,the metaphysician can no more explain the limitation imposed by sensation on a free and autonomous mind than the natural philosopher can understand the infinite1 which is revealed in consciousness in connection with these limits4 ,neither abstraction nor experience can bring us back to the source whence issue our ideas of necessity and of universality3 this source is concealed in its origin in time from the observer1 and its super-sensuous origin from the researches of the metaphysician4 ,but1 to sum up in a few words1 consciousness is there1 and1 together with its immutable unity1 the law of all that is for man is established1 as well as of all that is to be by man1 for his understanding and his activity4 ,the ideas of truth and of right present themselves inevitable1 incorruptible1 immeasurable1 even in the age of sensuousness2 and without our being able to say why or how1 we see eternity in time1 the necessary following the contingent4 ,it is thus that1 without any share on the part of the subject1 the sensation and self-consciousness arise1 and the origin of both is beyond our volition1 as it is out of the sphere of our knowledge4 ,but as soon as these two faculties have passed into action1 and man has verified by his experience1 through the medium of sensation1 a determinate existence1 and through the medium of consciousness its absolute existence1 the two fundamental impulses exert their influence directly their object is given4 ,the sensuous impulse is awakened with the experience of life--with the beginning of the individual2 the rational impulsion with the experience of law--with the beginning of his personality2 and it is only when these two inclinations have come into existence that the human type is realized4 ,up to that time1 everything takes place in man according to the law of necessity2 but now the hand of nature lets him go1 and it is for him to keep upright humanity1 which nature places as a germ in his heart4 ,and thus we see that directly the two opposite and fundamental impulses exercise their influence in him1 both lose their constraint1 and the autonomy of two necessities gives birth to freedom4 ,,letter ,,xx4 ,that freedom is an active and not a passive principle results from its very conception2 but that liberty itself should be an effect of nature 7taking this word in its widest sense71 and not the work of man1 and therefore that it can be favored or thwarted by natural means1 is the necessary consequence of that which precedes4 ,it begins only when man is complete1 and when these two fundamental impulsions have been developed4 ,it will then be wanting whilst he is incomplete1 and while one of these impulsions is excluded1 and it will be re-established by all that gives back to man his integrity4 ,thus it is possible1 both with regard to the entire species as to the individual1 to remark the moment when man is yet incomplete1 and when one of the two exclusions acts solely in him4 ,we know that man commences by life simply1 to end by form2 that he is more of an individual than a person1 and that he starts from the limited or finite to approach the infinite4 ,the sensuous impulsion comes into play therefore before the rational impulsion1 because sensation precedes consciousness2 and in this priority of sensuous impulsion we find the key of the history of the whole of human liberty4 ,there is a moment1 in fact1 when the instinct of life1 not yet opposed to the instinct of form1 acts as nature and as necessity2 when the sensuous is a power because man has not begun2 for even in man there can be no other power than his will4 ,but when man shall have attained to the power of thought1 reason1 on the contrary1 will be a power1 and moral or logical necessity will take the place of physical necessity4 ,sensuous power must then be annihilated before the law which must govern it can be established4 ,it is not enough that something shall begin which as yet was not2 previously something must end which had begun4 ,man cannot pass immediately from sensuousness to thought4 ,he must step backwards1 for it is only when one determination is suppressed that the contrary determination can take place4 ,consequently1 in order to exchange passive against active liberty1 a passive determination against an active1 he must be momentarily free from all determination1 and must traverse a state of pure determinability4 ,he has then to return in some degree to that state of pure negative indetermination in which he was before his senses were affected by anything4 ,but this state was absolutely empty of all contents1 and now the question is to reconcile an equal determination and a determinability equally without limit1 with the greatest possible fulness1 because from this situation something positive must immediately follow4 ,the determination which man received by sensation must be preserved1 because he should not lose the reality2 but at the same time1 in so far as finite1 it should be suppressed1 because a determinability without limit would take place4 ,the problem consists then in annihilating the determination of the mode of existence1 and yet at the same time in preserving it1 which is only possible in one way3 in opposing to it another4 ,the two sides of a balance are in equilibrium when empty2 they are also in equilibrium when their contents are of equal weight4 ,thus1 to pass from sensation to thought1 the soul traverses a medium position1 in which sensibility and reason are at the same time active1 and thus they mutually destroy their determinant power1 and by their antagonism produce a negation4 ,this medium situation in which the soul is neither physically nor morally constrained1 and yet is in both ways active1 merits essentially the name of a free situation2 and if we call the state of sensuous determination physical1 and the state of rational determination logical or moral1 that state of real and active determination should be called the aesthetic4 ,,letter ,,xxi4 ,i have remarked in the beginning of the foregoing letter that there is a twofold condition of determinableness and a twofold condition of determination4 ,and now ,i can clear up this proposition4 ,the mind can be determined--is determinable--only in as far as it is not determined2 it is1 however1 determinable also1 in as far as it is not exclusively determined2 that is1 if it is not confined in its determination4 ,the former is only a want of determination--it is without limits1 because it is without reality2 but the latter1 the aesthetic determinableness1 has no limits1 because it unites all reality4 ,the mind is determined1 inasmuch as it is only limited2 but it is also determined because it limits itself of its own absolute capacity4 ,it is situated in the former position when it feels1 in the second when it thinks4 ,accordingly the aesthetic constitution is in relation to determinableness what thought is in relation to determination4 ,the latter is a negative from internal and infinite completeness1 the former a limitation from internal infinite power4 ,feeling and thought come into contact in one single point1 the mind is determined in both conditions1 the man becomes something and exists--either as individual or person--by exclusion2 in other cases these two faculties stand infinitely apart4 ,just in the same manner the aesthetic determinableness comes in contact with the mere want of determination in a single point1 by both excluding every distinct determined existence1 by thus being in all other points nothing and all1 and hence by being infinitely different4 ,therefore if the latter1 in the absence of determination from deficiency1 is represented as an empty infiniteness1 the aesthetic freedom of determination1 which forms the proper counterpart to the former1 can be considered as a completed infiniteness2 a representation which exactly agrees with the teachings of the previous investigations4 ,man is therefore nothing in the aesthetic state1 if attention is given to the single result1 and not to the whole faculty1 and if we regard only the absence or want of every special determination4 ,we must therefore do justice to those who pronounce the beautiful1 and the disposition in which it places the mind1 as entirely indifferent and unprofitable1 in relation to knowledge and feeling4 ,they are perfectly right2 for it is certain that beauty gives no separate1 single result1 either for the understanding or for the will2 it does not carry out a single intellectual or moral object2 it discovers no truth1 does not help us to fulfil a single duty1 and1 in one word1 is equally unfit to found the character or to clear the head4 ,accordingly1 the personal worth of a man1 or his dignity1 as far as this can only depend on himself1 remains entirely undetermined by aesthetic culture1 and nothing further is attained than that1 on the part of nature1 it is made profitable for him to make of himself what he will2 that the freedom to be what he ought to be is restored perfectly to him4 ,but by this something infinite is attained4 ,but as soon as we remember that freedom is taken from man by the one-sided compulsion of nature in feeling1 and by the exclusive legislation of the reason in thinking1 we must consider the capacity restored to him by the aesthetical disposition1 as the highest of all gifts1 as the gift of humanity4 ,i admit that he possesses this capacity for humanity1 before every definite determination in which he may be placed4 ,but1 as a matter of fact1 he loses it with every determined condition into which he may come2 and if he is to pass over to an opposite condition1 humanity must be in every case restored to him by the aesthetic life4 ,it is therefore not only a poetical license1 but also philosophically correct1 when beauty is named our second creator4 ,nor is this inconsistent with the fact that she only makes it possible for us to attain and realize humanity1 leaving this to our free will4 ,for in this she acts in common with our original creator1 nature1 which has imparted to us nothing further than this capacity for humanity1 but leaves the use of it to our own determination of will4 ,,letter ,,xxii4 ,accordingly1 if the aesthetic disposition of the mind must be looked upon in one respect as nothing--that is1 when we confine our view to separate and determined operations--it must be looked upon in another respect as a state of the highest reality1 in as far as we attend to the absence of all limits and the sum of powers which are commonly active in it4 ,accordingly we cannot pronounce them1 again1 to be wrong who describe the aesthetic state to be the most productive in relation to knowledge and morality4 ,they are perfectly right1 for a state of mind which comprises the whole of humanity in itself must of necessity include in itself also --necessarily and potentially--every separate expression of it4 ,again1 a disposition of mind that removes all limitation from the totality of human nature must also remove it from every special expression of the same4 ,exactly because its aesthetic disposition does not exclusively shelter any separate function of humanity1 it is favorable to all without distinction2 nor does it favor any particular functions1 precisely because it is the foundation of the possibility of all4 ,all other exercises give to the mind some special aptitude1 but for that very reason give it some definite limits2 only the aesthetical leads him to the unlimited4 ,every other condition in which we can live refers us to a previous condition1 and requires for its solution a following condition2 only the aesthetic is a complete whole in itself1 for it unites in itself all conditions of its source and of its duration4 ,here alone we feel ourselves swept out of time1 and our humanity expresses itself with purity and integrity as if it had not yet received any impression or interruption from the operation of external powers4 ,that which flatters our senses in immediate sensation opens our weak and volatile spirit to every impression1 but makes us in the same degree less apt for exertion4 ,that which stretches our thinking power and invites to abstract conceptions strengthens our mind for every kind of resistance1 but hardens it also in the same proportion1 and deprives us of susceptibility in the same ratio that it helps us to greater mental activity4 ,for this very reason1 one as well as the other brings us at length to exhaustion1 because matter cannot long do without the shaping1 constructive force1 and the force cannot do without the constructible material4 ,but on the other hand1 if we have resigned ourselves to the enjoyment of genuine beauty1 we are at such a moment of our passive and active powers in the same degree master1 and we shall turn with ease from grave to gay1 from rest to movement1 from submission to resistance1 to abstract thinking and intuition4 ,this high indifference and freedom of mind1 united with power and elasticity1 is the disposition in which a true work of art ought to dismiss us1 and there is no better test of true aesthetic excellence4 ,if after an enjoyment of this kind we find ourselves specially impelled to a particular mode of feeling or action1 and unfit for other modes1 this serves as an infallible proof that we have not experienced any pure aesthetic effect1 whether this is owing to the object1 to our own mode of feeling--as generally happens--or to both together4 ,as in reality no purely aesthetical effect can be met with--for man can never leave his dependence on material forces--the excellence of a work of art can only consist in its greater approximation to its ideal of aesthetic purity1 and however high we may raise the freedom of this effect1 we shall always leave it with a particular disposition and a particular bias4 ,any class of productions or separate work in the world of art is noble and excellent in proportion to the universality of the disposition and the unlimited character of the bias thereby presented to our mind4 ,this truth can be applied to works in various branches of art1 and also to different works in the same branch4 ,we leave a grand musical performance with our feelings excited1 the reading of a noble poem with a quickened imagination1 a beautiful statue or building with an awakened understanding2 but a man would not choose an opportune moment who attempted to invite us to abstract thinking after a high musical enjoyment1 or to attend to a prosaic affair of common life after a high poetical enjoyment1 or to kindle our imagination and astonish our feelings directly after inspecting a fine statue or edifice4 ,the reason of this is1 that music1 by its matter1 even when most spiritual1 presents a greater affinity with the senses than is permitted by aesthetic liberty2 it is because even the most happy poetry1 having for its medium the arbitrary and contingent play of the imagination1 always shares in it more than the intimate necessity of the really beautiful allows2 it is because the best sculpture touches on severe science by what is determinate in its conception4 ,however1 these particular affinities are lost in proportion as the works of these three kinds of art rise to a greater elevation1 and it is a natural and necessary consequence of their perfection1 that1 without confounding their objective limits1 the different arts come to resemble each other more and more1 in the action which they exercise on the mind4 ,at its highest degree of ennobling1 music ought to become a form1 and act on us with the calm power of an antique statue2 in its most elevated perfection1 the plastic art ought to become music and move us by the immediate action exercised on the mind by the senses2 in its most complete development1 poetry ought both to stir us powerfully like music and like plastic art to surround us with a peaceful light4 ,in each art1 the perfect style consists exactly in knowing how to remove specific limits1 while sacrificing at the same time the particular advantages of the art1 and to give it by a wise use of what belongs to it specially a more general character4 ,nor is it only the limits inherent in the specific character of each kind of art that the artist ought to overstep in putting his hand to the work2 he must also triumph over those which are inherent in the particular subject of which he treats4 ,in a really beautiful work of art1 the substance ought to be inoperative1 the form should do everything2 for by the form the whole man is acted on2 the substance acts on nothing but isolated forces4 ,thus1 however vast and sublime it may be1 the substance always exercises a restrictive action on the mind1 and true aesthetic liberty can only be expected from the form4 ,consequently the true search of the matter consists in destroying matter by the form2 and the triumph of art is great in proportion as it overcomes matter and maintains its sway over those who enjoy its work4 ,it is great particularly in destroying matter when most imposing1 ambitious1 and attractive1 when therefore matter has most power to produce the effect proper to it1 or1 again1 when it leads those who consider it more closely to enter directly into relation with it4 ,the mind of the spectator and of the hearer must remain perfectly free and intact2 it must issue pure and entire from the magic circle of the artist1 as from the hands of the ,creator4 ,the most frivolous subject ought to be treated in such a way that we preserve the faculty to exchange it immediately for the most serious work4 ,the arts which have passion for their object1 as a tragedy for example1 do not present a difficulty here2 for1 in the first place1 these arts are not entirely free1 because they are in the service of a particular end 7the pathetic71 and then no connoisseur will deny that even in this class a work is perfect in proportion as amidst the most violent storms of passion it respects the liberty of the soul4 ,there is a fine art of passion1 but an impassioned fine art is a contradiction in terms1 for the infallible effect of the beautiful is emancipation from the passions4 ,the idea of an instructive fine art 7didactic art7 or improving 7moral7 art is no less contradictory1 for nothing agrees less with the idea of the beautiful than to give a determinate tendency to the mind4 ,however1 from the fact that a work produces effects only by its substance1 it must not always be inferred that there is a want of form in this work2 this conclusion may quite as well testify to a want of form in the observer4 ,if his mind is too stretched or too relaxed1 if it is only accustomed to receive things either by the senses or the intelligence1 even in the most perfect combination1 it will only stop to look at the parts1 and it will only see matter in the most beautiful form4 ,only sensible of the coarse elements1 he must first destroy the aesthetic organization of a work to find enjoyment in it1 and carefully disinter the details which genius has caused to vanish1 with infinite art1 in the harmony of the whole4 ,the interest he takes in the work is either solely moral or exclusively physical2 the only thing wanting to it is to be exactly what it ought to be--aesthetical4 ,the readers of this class enjoy a serious and pathetic poem as they do a sermon3 a simple and playful work1 as an inebriating draught2 and if on the one hand they have so little taste as to demand edification from a tragedy or from an epos1 even such as the ,messias1 on the other hand they will be infallibly scandalized by a piece after the fashion of ,anacreon and ,catullus4 ,,letter ,,xxiii4 ,i take up the thread of my researches1 which ,i broke off only to apply the principles ,i laid down to practical art and the appreciation of its works4 ,the transition from the passivity of sensuousness to the activity of thought and of will can be effected only by the intermediary state of aesthetic liberty2 and though in itself this state decides nothing respecting our opinions and our sentiments1 and therefore it leaves our intellectual and moral value entirely problematical1 it is1 however1 the necessary condition without which we should never attain to an opinion or a sentiment4 ,in a word1 there is no other way to make a reasonable being out of a sensuous man than by making him first aesthetic4 ,but1 you might object3 ,is this mediation absolutely indispensable8 ,could not truth and duty1 one or the other1 in themselves and by themselves1 find access to the sensuous man8 ,to this ,i reply3 ,not only is it possible but it is absolutely necessary that they owe solely to themselves their determining force1 and nothing would be more contradictory to our preceding affirmations than to appear to defend the contrary opinion4 ,it has been expressly proved that the beautiful furnishes no result1 either for the comprehension or for the will2 that it mingles with no operations1 either of thought or of resolution2 and that it confers this double power without determining anything with regard to the real exercise of this power4 ,here all foreign help disappears1 and the pure logical form1 the idea1 would speak immediately to the intelligence1 as the pure moral form1 the law1 immediately to the will4 ,but that the pure form should be capable of it1 and that there is in general a pure form for sensuous man1 is that1 ,i maintain1 which should be rendered possible by the aesthetic disposition of the soul4 ,truth is not a thing which can be received from without like reality or the visible existence of objects4 ,it is the thinking force1 in his own liberty and activity1 which produces it1 and it is just this liberty proper to it1 this liberty which we seek in vain in sensuous man4 ,the sensuous man is already determined physically1 and thenceforth he has no longer his free determinability2 he must necessarily first enter into possession of this lost determinability before he can exchange the passive against an active determination4 ,therefore1 in order to recover it1 he must either lose the passive determination that he had1 or he should enclose already in himself the active determination to which he should pass4 ,if he confined himself to lose passive determination1 he would at the same time lose with it the possibility of an active determination1 because thought needs a body1 and form can only be realized through matter4 ,he must therefore contain already in himself the active determination1 that he may be at once both actively and passively determined1 that is to say1 he becomes necessarily aesthetic4 ,consequently1 by the aesthetic disposition of the soul the proper activity of reason is already revealed in the sphere of sensuousness1 the power of sense is already broken within its own boundaries1 and the ennobling of physical man carried far enough1 for spiritual man has only to develop himself according to the laws of liberty4 ,the transition from an aesthetic state to a logical and moral state 7from the beautiful to truth and duty7 is then infinitely more easy than the transition from the physical state to the aesthetic state 7from life pure and blind to form74 ,this transition man can effectuate alone by his liberty1 whilst he has only to enter into possession of himself not to give it himself2 but to separate the elements of his nature1 and not to enlarge it4 ,having attained to the aesthetic disposition1 man will give to his judgments and to his actions a universal value as soon as he desires it4 ,this passage from brute nature to beauty1 in which an entirely new faculty would awaken in him1 nature would render easier1 and his will has no power over a disposition which1 we know1 itself gives birth to the will4 ,to bring the aesthetic man to profound views1 to elevated sentiments1 he requires nothing more than important occasions3 to obtain the same thing from the sensuous man1 his nature must at first be changed4 ,to make of the former a hero1 a sage1 it is often only necessary to meet with a sublime situation1 which exercises upon the faculty of the will the more immediate action2 for the second1 it must first be transplanted under another sky4 ,one of the most important tasks of culture1 then1 is to submit man to form1 even in a purely physical life1 and to render it aesthetic as far as the domain of the beautiful can be extended1 for it is alone in the aesthetic state1 and not in the physical state1 that the moral state can be developed4 ,if in each particular case man ought to possess the power to make his judgment and his will the judgment of the entire species2 if he ought to find in each limited existence the transition to an infinite existence2 if1 lastly1 he ought from every dependent situation to take his flight to rise to autonomy and to liberty1 it must be observed that at no moment he is only individual and solely obeys the laws of nature4 ,to be apt and ready to raise himself from the narrow circle of the ends of nature1 to rational ends1 in the sphere of the former he must already have exercised himself in the second2 he must already have realized his physical destiny with a certain liberty that belongs only to spiritual nature1 that is to say according to the laws of the beautiful4 ,and that he can effect without thwarting in the least degree his physical aim4 ,the exigencies of nature with regard to him turn only upon what he does--upon the substance of his acts2 but the ends of nature in no degree determine the way in which he acts1 the form of his actions4 ,on the contrary1 the exigencies of reason have rigorously the form of his activity for its object4 ,thus1 so much as it is necessary for the moral destination of man1 that he be purely moral1 that he shows an absolute personal activity1 so much is he indifferent that his physical destination be entirely physical1 that he acts in a manner entirely passive4 ,henceforth with regard to this last destination1 it entirely depends on him to fulfil it solely as a sensuous being and natural force 7as a force which acts only as it diminishes7 or1 at the same time1 as absolute force1 as a rational being4 ,to which of these does his dignity best respond8 ,of this there can be no question4 ,it is as disgraceful and contemptible for him to do under sensuous impulsion that which he ought to have determined merely by the motive of duty1 as it is noble and honorable for him to incline towards conformity with laws1 harmony1 independence2 there even where the vulgar man only satisfies a legitimate want4 ,in a word1 in the domain of truth and morality1 sensuousness must have nothing to determine2 but in the sphere of happiness1 form may find a place1 and the instinct of play prevail4 ,thus then1 in the indifferent sphere of physical life1 man ought to already commence his moral life2 his own proper activity ought already to make way in passivity1 and his rational liberty beyond the limits of sense2 he ought already to impose the law of his will upon his inclinations2 he ought--if you will permit me the expression--to carry into the domain of matter the war against matter1 in order to be dispensed from combating this redoubtable enemy upon the sacred field of liberty2 he ought to learn to have nobler desires1 not to be forced to have sublime volitions4 ,this is the fruit of aesthetic culture1 which submits to the laws of the beautiful1 in which neither the laws of nature nor those of reason suffer1 which does not force the will of man1 and which by the form it gives to exterior life already opens internal life4 ,,letter ,,xxiv4 ,accordingly three different moments or stages of development can be distinguished1 which the individual man1 as well as the whole race1 must of necessity traverse in a determinate order if they are to fulfil the circle of their determination4 ,no doubt1 the separate periods can be lengthened or shortened1 through accidental causes which are inherent either in the influence of external things or under the free caprice of men3 but neither of them can be overstepped1 and the order of their sequence cannot be inverted either by nature or by the will4 ,man1 in his physical condition1 suffers only the power of nature2 he gets rid of this power in the aesthetical condition1 and he rules them in the moral state4 ,what is man before beauty liberates him from free pleasure1 and the serenity of form tames down the savageness of life8 ,eternally uniform in his aims1 eternally changing in his judgments1 self-seeking without being himself1 unfettered without being free1 a slave without serving any rule4 ,at this period1 the world is to him only destiny1 not yet an object2 all has existence for him only in as far as it procures existence to him2 a thing that neither seeks from nor gives to him is non-existent4 ,every phenomenon stands out before him separate and cut off1 as he finds himself in the series of beings4 ,all that is1 is to him through the bias of the moment2 every change is to him an entirely fresh creation1 because with the necessary in him1 the necessary out of him is wanting1 which binds together all the changing forms in the universe1 and which holds fast the law on the theatre of his action1 while the individual departs4 ,it is in vain that nature lets the rich variety of her forms pass before him2 he sees in her glorious fulness nothing but his prey1 in her power and greatness nothing but his enemy4 ,either he encounters objects1 and wishes to draw them to himself in desire1 or the objects press in a destructive manner upon him1 and he thrusts them away in dismay and terror4 ,in both cases his relation to the world of sense is immediate contact2 and perpetually anxious through its pressure1 restless and plagued by imperious wants1 he nowhere finds rest except in enervation1 and nowhere limits save in exhausted desire4 ,true1 his is the powerful breast1 and the mighty hand of the ,titans4 4 4 4 ,a certain inheritance2 yet the god welded ,round his forehead a brazen band2 ,advice1 moderation1 wisdom1 and patience1-- ,hid it from his shy1 sinister look4 ,every desire is with him a rage1 ,and his rage prowls around limitless4--,iphigenia in ,tauris4 ,ignorant of his own human dignity1 he is far removed from honoring it in others1 and conscious of his own savage greed1 he fears it in every creature that he sees like himself4 ,he never sees others in himself1 only himself in others1 and human society1 instead of enlarging him to the race1 only shuts him up continually closer in his individuality4 ,thus limited1 he wanders through his sunless life1 till favoring nature rolls away the load of matter from his darkened senses1 reflection separates him from things1 and objects show themselves at length in the afterglow of the consciousness4 ,it is true we cannot point out this state of rude nature as we have here portrayed it in any definite people and age4 ,it is only an idea1 but an idea with which experience agrees most closely in special features4 ,it may be said that man was never in this animal condition1 but he has not1 on the other hand1 ever entirely escaped from it4 ,even in the rudest subjects1 unmistakable traces of rational freedom can be found1 and even in the most cultivated1 features are not wanting that remind us of that dismal natural condition4 ,it is possible for man1 at one and the same time1 to unite the highest and the lowest in his nature2 and if his dignity depends on a strict separation of one from the other1 his happiness depends on a skilful removal of this separation4 ,the culture which is to bring his dignity into agreement with his happiness will therefore have to provide for the greatest purity of these two principles in their most intimate combination4 ,consequently the first appearance of reason in man is not the beginning of humanity4 ,this is first decided by his freedom1 and reason begins first by making his sensuous dependence boundless2 a phenomenon that does not appear to me to have been sufficiently elucidated1 considering its importance and universality4 ,we know that the reason makes itself known to man by the demand for the absolute--the self-dependent and necessary4 ,but as this want of the reason cannot be satisfied in any separate or single state of his physical life1 he is obliged to leave the physical entirely and to rise from a limited reality to ideas4 ,but although the true meaning of that demand of the reason is to withdraw him from the limits of time and to lead him from the world of sense to an ideal world1 yet this same demand of reason1 by misapplication--scarcely to be avoided in this life1 prone to sensuousness--can direct him to physical life1 and1 instead of making man free1 plunge him in the most terrible slavery4 ,facts verify this supposition4 ,man raised on the wings of imagination leaves the narrow limits of the present1 in which mere animality is enclosed1 in order to strive on to an unlimited future4 ,but while the limitless is unfolded to his dazed imagination1 his heart has not ceased to live in the separate1 and to serve the moment4 ,the impulse towards the absolute seizes him suddenly in the midst of his animality1 and as in this cloddish condition all his efforts aim only at the material and temporal1 and are limited by his individuality1 he is only led by that demand of the reason to extend his individuality into the infinite1 instead of to abstract from it4 ,he will be led to seek instead of form an inexhaustible matter1 instead of the unchangeable an everlasting change and an absolute securing of his temporal existence4 ,the same impulse which1 directed to his thought and action1 ought to lead to truth and morality1 now directed to his passion and emotional state1 produces nothing but an unlimited desire and an absolute want4 ,the first fruits1 therefore1 that he reaps in the world of spirits are cares and fear--both operations of the reason2 not of sensuousness1 but of a reason that mistakes its object and applies its categorical imperative to matter4 ,all unconditional systems of happiness are fruits of this tree1 whether they have for their object the present day or the whole of life1 or what does not make them any more respectable1 the whole of eternity1 for their object4 ,an unlimited duration of existence and of well-being is only an ideal of the desires2 hence a demand which can only be put forth by an animality striving up to the absolute4 ,man1 therefore1 without gaining anything for his humanity by a rational expression of this sort1 loses the happy limitation of the animal1 over which he now only possesses the unenviable superiority of losing the present for an endeavor after what is remote1 yet without seeking in the limitless future anything but the present4 ,but even if the reason does not go astray in its object1 or err in the question1 sensuousness will continue to falsify the answer for a long time4 ,as soon as man has begun to use his understanding and to knit together phenomena in cause and effect1 the reason1 according to its conception1 presses on to an absolute knitting together and to an unconditional basis4 ,in order1 merely1 to be able to put forward this demand1 man must already have stepped beyond the sensuous1 but the sensuous uses this very demand to bring back the fugitive4 ,in fact1 it is now that he ought to abandon entirely the world of sense in order to take his flight into the realm of ideas2 for the intelligence remains eternally shut up in the finite and in the contingent1 and does not cease putting questions without reaching the last link of the chain4 ,but as the man with whom we are engaged is not yet capable of such an abstraction1 and does not find it in the sphere of sensuous knowledge1 and because he does not look for it in pure reason1 he will seek for it below in the region of sentiment1 and will appear to find it4 ,no doubt the sensuous shows him nothing that has its foundation in itself1 and that legislates for itself1 but it shows him something that does not care for foundation or law2 therefore1 thus not being able to quiet the intelligence by showing it a final cause1 he reduces it to silence by the conception which desires no cause2 and being incapable of understanding the sublime necessity of reason1 he keeps to the blind constraint of matter4 ,as sensuousness knows no other end than its interest1 and is determined by nothing except blind chance1 it makes the former the motive of its actions1 and the latter the master of the world4 ,even the divine part in man1 the moral law1 in its first manifestation in the sensuous cannot avoid this perversion4 ,as this moral law is only prohibited1 and combats in man the interest of sensuous egotism1 it must appear to him as something strange until he has come to consider this self-love as the stranger1 and the voice of reason as his true self4 ,therefore he confines himself to feeling the fetters which the latter imposes on him1 without having the consciousness of the infinite emancipation which it procures for him4 ,without suspecting in himself the dignity of lawgiver1 he only experiences the constraint and the impotent revolt of a subject fretting under the yoke1 because in this experience the sensuous impulsion precedes the moral impulsion1 he gives to the law of necessity a beginning in him1 a positive origin1 and by the most unfortunate of all mistakes he converts the immutable and the eternal in himself into a transitory accident4 ,he makes up his mind to consider the notions of the just and the unjust as statutes which have been introduced by a will1 and not as having in themselves an eternal value4 ,just as in the explanation of certain natural phenomena he goes beyond nature and seeks out of her what can only be found in her1 in her own laws2 so also in the explanation of moral phenomena he goes beyond reason and makes light of his humanity1 seeking a god in this way4 ,it is not wonderful that a religion which he has purchased at the cost of his humanity shows itself worthy of this origin1 and that he only considers as absolute and eternally binding laws that have never been binding from all eternity4 ,he has placed himself in relation with1 not a holy being1 but a powerful4 ,therefore the spirit of his religion1 of the homage that he gives to ,god1 is a fear that abases him1 and not a veneration that elevates him in his own esteem4 ,though these different aberrations by which man departs from the ideal of his destination cannot all take place at the same time1 because several degrees have to be passed over in the transition from the obscure of thought to error1 and from the obscure of will to the corruption of the will2 these degrees are all1 without exception1 the consequence of his physical state1 because in all the vital impulsion sways the formal impulsion4 ,now1 two cases may happen3 either reason may not yet have spoken in man1 and the physical may reign over him with a blind necessity1 or reason may not be sufficiently purified from sensuous impressions1 and the moral may still be subject to the physical2 in both cases the only principle that has a real power over him is a material principle1 and man1 at least as regards his ultimate tendency1 is a sensuous being4 ,the only difference is1 that in the former case he is an animal without reason1 and in the second case a rational animal4 ,but he ought to be neither one nor the other3 he ought to be a man4 ,nature ought not to rule him exclusively2 nor reason conditionally4 ,the two legislations ought to be completely independent1 and yet mutually complementary4 ,,letter ,,xxv4 ,whilst man1 in his first physical condition1 is only passively affected by the world of sense1 he is still entirely identified with it2 and for this reason the external world1 as yet1 has no objective existence for him4 ,when he begins in his aesthetic state of mind to regard the world objectively1 then only is his personality severed from it1 and the world appears to him an objective reality1 for the simple reason that he has ceased to form an identical portion of it4 ,that which first connects man with the surrounding universe is the power of reflective contemplation4 ,whereas desire seizes at once its object1 reflection removes it to a distance and renders it inalienably her own by saving it from the greed of passion4 ,the necessity of sense which he obeyed during the period of mere sensations1 lessens during the period of reflection2 the senses are for the time in abeyance2 even ever-fleeting time stands still whilst the scattered rays of consciousness are gathering and shape themselves2 an image of the infinite is reflected upon the perishable ground4 ,as soon as light dawns in man1 there is no1 longer night outside of him2 as soon as there is peace within him the storm lulls throughout the universe1 and the contending forces of nature find rest within prescribed limits4 ,hence we cannot wonder if ancient traditions allude to these great changes in the inner man as to a revolution in surrounding nature1 and symbolize thought triumphing over the laws of time1 by the figure of ,zeus1 which terminates the reign of ,saturn4 ,as long as man derives sensations from a contact with nature1 he is her slave2 but as soon as he begins to reflect upon her objects and laws he becomes her lawgiver4 ,nature1 which previously ruled him as a power1 now expands before him as an object4 ,what is objective to him can have no power over him1 for in order to become objective it has to experience his own power4 ,as far and as long as he impresses a form upon matter1 he cannot be injured by its effect2 for a spirit can only be injured by that which deprives it of its freedom4 ,whereas he proves his own freedom by giving a form to the formless2 where the mass rules heavily and without shape1 and its undefined outlines are for ever fluctuating between uncertain boundaries1 fear takes up its abode2 but man rises above any natural terror as soon as he knows how to mould it1 and transform it into an object of his art4 ,as soon as he upholds his independence towards phenomenal natures he maintains his dignity toward her as a thing of power1 and with a noble freedom he rises against his gods4 ,they throw aside the mask with which they had kept him in awe during his infancy1 and to his surprise his mind perceives the reflection of his own image4 ,the divine monster of the ,oriental1 which roams about changing the world with the blind force of a beast of prey1 dwindles to the charming outline of humanity in ,greek fable2 the empire of the ,titans is crushed1 and boundless force is tamed by infinite form4 ,but whilst ,i have been merely searching for an issue from the material world1 and a passage into the world of mind1 the bold flight of my imagination has already taken me into the very midst of the latter world4 ,the beauty of which we are in search we have left behind by passing from the life of mere sensations to the pure form and to the pure object4 ,such a leap exceeds the condition of human nature2 in order to keep pace with the latter we must return to the world of sense4 ,beauty is indeed the sphere of unfettered contemplation and reflection2 beauty conducts us into the world of ideas1 without however taking us from the world of sense1 as occurs when a truth is perceived and acknowledged4 ,this is the pure product of a process of abstraction from everything material and accidental1 a pure object free from every subjective barrier1 a pure state of self-activity without any admixture of passive sensations4 ,there is indeed a way back to sensation from the highest abstraction2 for thought teaches the inner sensation1 and the idea of logical or moral unity passes into a sensation of sensual accord4 ,but if we delight in knowledge we separate very accurately our own conceptions from our sensations2 we look upon the latter as something accidental1 which might have been omitted without the knowledge being impaired thereby1 without truth being less true4 ,it would1 however1 be a vain attempt to suppress this connection of the faculty of feeling with the idea of beauty1 consequently1 we shall not succeed in representing to ourselves one as the effect of the other1 but we must look upon them both together and reciprocally as cause and effect4 ,in the pleasure which we derive from knowledge we readily distinguish the passage from the active to the passive state1 and we clearly perceive that the first ends when the second begins4 ,on the contrary1 from the pleasure which we take in beauty1 this transition from the active to the passive is not perceivable1 and reflection is so intimately blended with feeling that we believe we feel the form immediately4 ,beauty is then an object to us1 it is true1 because reflection is the condition of the feeling which we have of it2 but it is also a state of our personality 7our ,ego7 because the feeling is the condition of the idea we conceive of it3 beauty is therefore doubtless form1 because we contemplate it1 but it is equally life because we feel it4 ,in a word1 it is at once our state and our act4 ,and precisely because it is at the same time both a state and an act1 it triumphantly proves to us that the passive does not exclude the active1 neither matter nor form1 neither the finite nor the infinite2 and that consequently the physical dependence to which man is necessarily devoted does not in any way destroy his moral liberty4 ,this is the proof of beauty1 and ,i ought to add that this alone can prove it4 ,in fact1 as in the possession of truth or of logical unity1 feeling is not necessarily one with the thought1 but follows it accidentally2 it is a fact which only proves that a sensitive nature can succeed a rational nature1 and vice versa2 not that they co-exist1 that they exercise a reciprocal action one over the other2 and1 lastly1 that they ought to be united in an absolute and necessary manner4 ,from this exclusion of feeling as long as there is thought1 and of thought so long as there is feeling1 we should on the contrary conclude that the two natures are incompatible1 so that in order to demonstrate that pure reason is to be realized in humanity1 the best proof given by the analysis is that this realization is demanded4 ,but1 as in the realization of beauty or of aesthetic unity1 there is a real union1 mutual substitution of matter and of form1 of passive and of active1 by this alone is proved the compatibility of the two natures1 the possible realization of the infinite in the finite1 and consequently also the possibility of the most sublime humanity4 ,henceforth we need no longer be embarrassed to find a transition from dependent feeling to moral liberty1 because beauty reveals to us the fact that they can perfectly coexist1 and that to show himself a spirit1 man need not escape from matter4 ,but if on one side he is free1 even in his relation with a visible world1 as the fact of beauty teaches1 and if on the other side freedom is something absolute and supersensuous1 as its idea necessarily implies1 the question is no longer how man succeeds in raising himself from the finite to the absolute1 and opposing himself in his thought and will to sensuality1 as this has already been produced in the fact of beauty4 ,in a word1 we have no longer to ask how he passes from virtue to truth which is already included in the former1 but how he opens a way for himself from vulgar reality to aesthetic reality1 and from the ordinary feelings of life to the perception of the beautiful4 ,,letter ,,xxvi4 ,i have shown in the previous letters that it is only the aesthetic disposition of the soul that gives birth to liberty1 it cannot therefore be derived from liberty nor have a moral origin4 ,it must be a gift of nature2 the favor of chance alone can break the bonds of the physical state and bring the savage to duty4 ,the germ of the beautiful will find an equal difficulty in developing itself in countries where a severe nature forbids man to enjoy himself1 and in those where a prodigal nature dispenses him from all effort2 where the blunted senses experience no want1 and where violent desire can never be satisfied4 ,the delightful flower of the beautiful will never unfold itself in the case of the ,troglodyte hid in his cavern always alone1 and never finding humanity outside himself2 nor among nomads1 who1 travelling in great troops1 only consist of a multitude1 and have no individual humanity4 ,it will only flourish in places where man converses peacefully with himself in his cottage1 and with the whole race when he issues from it4 ,in those climates where a limpid ether opens the senses to the lightest impression1 whilst a life-giving warmth develops a luxuriant nature1 where even in the inanimate creation the sway of inert matter is overthrown1 and the victorious form ennobles even the most abject natures2 in this joyful state and fortunate zone1 where activity alone leads to enjoyment1 and enjoyment to activity1 from life itself issues a holy harmony1 and the laws of order develop life1 a different result takes place4 ,when imagination incessantly escapes from reality1 and does not abandon the simplicity of nature in its wanderings3 then and there only the mind and the senses1 the receptive force and the plastic force1 are developed in that happy equilibrium which is the soul of the beautiful and the condition of humanity4 ,what phenomenon accompanies the initiation of the savage into humanity8 ,however far we look back into history the phenomenon is identical among all people who have shaken off the slavery of the animal state3 the love of appearance1 the inclination for dress and for games4 ,extreme stupidity and extreme intelligence have a certain affinity in only seeking the real and being completely insensible to mere appearance4 ,the former is only drawn forth by the immediate presence of an object in the senses1 and the second is reduced to a quiescent state only by referring conceptions to the facts of experience4 ,in short1 stupidity cannot rise above reality1 nor the intelligence descend below truth4 ,thus1 in as far as the want of reality and attachment to the real are only the consequence of a want and a defect1 indifference to the real and an interest taken in appearances are a real enlargement of humanity and a decisive step towards culture4 ,in the first place it is the proof of an exterior liberty1 for as long as necessity commands and want solicits1 the fancy is strictly chained down to the real3 it is only when want is satisfied that it develops without hinderance4 ,but it is also the proof of an internal liberty1 because it reveals to us a force which1 independent of an external substratum1 sets itself in motion1 and has sufficient energy to remove from itself the solicitations of nature4 ,the reality of things is effected by things1 the appearance of things is the work of man1 and a soul that takes pleasure in appearance does not take pleasure in what it receives but in what it makes4 ,it is self-evident that ,i am speaking of aesthetical evidence different from reality and truth1 and not of logical appearance identical with them4 ,therefore if it is liked it is because it is an appearance1 and not because it is held to be something better than it is3 the first principle alone is a play1 whilst the second is a deception4 ,to give a value to the appearance of the first kind can never injure truth1 because it is never to be feared that it will supplant it--the only way in which truth can be injured4 ,to despise this appearance is to despise in general all the fine arts of which it is the essence4 ,nevertheless1 it happens sometimes that the understanding carries its zeal for reality as far as this intolerance1 and strikes with a sentence of ostracism all the arts relating to beauty in appearance1 because it is only an appearance4 ,however1 the intelligence only shows this vigorous spirit when it calls to mind the affinity pointed out further back4 ,i shall find some day the occasion to treat specially of the limits of beauty in its appearance4 ,it is nature herself which raises man from reality to appearance by endowing him with two senses which only lead him to the knowledge of the real through appearance4 ,in the eye and the ear the organs of the senses are already freed from the persecutions of nature1 and the object with which we are immediately in contact through the animal senses is remoter from us4 ,what we see by the eye differs from what we feel2 for the understanding to reach objects overleaps the light which separates us from them4 ,in truth1 we are passive to an object3 in sight and hearing the object is a form we create4 ,while still a savage1 man only enjoys through touch merely aided by sight and sound4 ,he either does not rise to perception through sight1 or does not rest there4 ,as soon as he begins to enjoy through sight1 vision has an independent value1 he is aesthetically free1 and the instinct of play is developed4 ,the instinct of play likes appearance1 and directly it is awakened it is followed by the formal imitative instinct which treats appearance as an independent thing4 ,directly man has come to distinguish the appearance from the reality1 the form from the body1 he can separate1 in fact he has already done so4 ,thus the faculty of the art of imitation is given with the faculty of form in general4 ,the inclination that draws us to it reposes on another tendency ,i have not to notice here4 ,the exact period when the aesthetic instinct1 or that of art1 develops1 depends entirely on the attraction that mere appearance has for men4 ,as every real existence proceeds from nature as a foreign power1 whilst every appearance comes in the first place from man as a percipient subject1 he only uses his absolute sight in separating semblance from essence1 and arranging according to subjective law4 ,with an unbridled liberty he can unite what nature has severed1 provided he can imagine his union1 and he can separate what nature has united1 provided this separation can take place in his intelligence4 ,here nothing can be sacred to him but his own law3 the only condition imposed upon him is to respect the border which separates his own sphere from the existence of things or from the realm of nature4 ,this human right of ruling is exercised by man in the art of appearance2 and his success in extending the empire of the beautiful1 and guarding the frontiers of truth1 will be in proportion with the strictness with which he separates form from substance3 for if he frees appearance from reality1 he must also do the converse4 ,but man possesses sovereign power only in the world of appearance1 in the unsubstantial realm of imagination1 only by abstaining from giving being to appearance in theory1 and by giving it being in practice4 ,it follows that the poet transgresses his proper limits when he attributes being to his ideal1 and when he gives this ideal aim as a determined existence4 ,for he can only reach this result by exceeding his right as a poet1 that of encroaching by the ideal on the field of experience1 and by pretending to determine real existence in virtue of a simple possibility1 or else he renounces his right as a poet by letting experience encroach on the sphere of the ideal1 and by restricting possibility to the conditions of reality4 ,it is only by being frank or disclaiming all reality1 and by being independent or doing without reality1 that the appearance is aesthetical4 ,directly it apes reality or needs reality for effect1 it is nothing more than a vile instrument for material ends1 and can prove nothing for the freedom of the mind4 ,moreover1 the object in which we find beauty need not be unreal if our judgment disregards this reality2 for if it regards this the judgment is no longer aesthetical4 ,a beautiful woman1 if living1 would no doubt please us as much and rather more than an equally beautiful woman seen in painting2 but what makes the former please men is not her being an independent appearance2 she no longer pleases the pure aesthetic feeling4 ,in the painting1 life must only attract as an appearance1 and reality as an idea4 ,but it is certain that to feel in a living object only the pure appearance requires a greatly higher aesthetic culture than to do without life in the appearance4 ,when the frank and independent appearance is found in man separately1 or in a whole people1 it may be inferred they have mind1 taste1 and all prerogatives connected with them4 ,in this case the ideal will be seen to govern real life1 honor triumphing over fortune1 thought over enjoyment1 the dream of immortality over a transitory existence4 ,in this case public opinion will no longer be feared1 and an olive crown will be more valued than a purple mantle4 ,impotence and perversity alone have recourse to false and paltry semblance1 and individuals as well as nations who lend to reality the support of appearance1 or to the aesthetic appearance the support of reality1 show their moral unworthiness and their aesthetical impotence4 ,therefore1 a short and conclusive answer can be given to this question--how far will appearance be permitted in the moral world8 ,it will run thus in proportion as this appearance will be aesthetical1 that is1 an appearance that does not try to make up for reality1 nor requires to be made up for by it4 ,the aesthetical appearance can never endanger the truth of morals3 wherever it seems to do so the appearance is not aesthetical4 ,only a stranger to the fashionable world can take the polite assurances1 which are only a form1 for proofs of affection1 and say he has been deceived2 but only a clumsy fellow in good society calls in the aid of duplicity and flatters to become amiable4 ,the former lacks the pure sense for independent appearance2 therefore he can only give a value to appearance by truth4 ,the second lacks reality1 and wishes to replace it by appearance4 ,nothing is more common than to hear depreciators of the times utter these paltry complaints--that all solidity has disappeared from the world1 and that essence is neglected for semblance4 ,though ,i feel by no means called upon to defend this age against these reproaches1 ,i must say that the wide application of these criticisms shows that they attach blame to the age1 not only on the score of the false1 but also of the frank appearance4 ,and even the exceptions they admit in favor of the beautiful have for their object less the independent appearance than the needy appearance4 ,not only do they attack the artificial coloring that hides truth and replaces reality1 but also the beneficent appearance that fills a vacuum and clothes poverty2 and they even attack the ideal appearance that ennobles a vulgar reality4 ,their strict sense of truth is rightly offended by the falsity of manners2 unfortunately1 they class politeness in this category4 ,it displeases them that the noisy and showy so often eclipse true merit1 but they are no less shocked that appearance is also demanded from merit1 and that a real substance does not dispense with an agreeable form4 ,they regret the cordiality1 the energy1 and solidity of ancient times2 they would restore with them ancient coarseness1 heaviness1 and the old ,gothic profusion4 ,by judgments of this kind they show an esteem for the matter itself unworthy of humanity1 which ought only to value the matter inasmuch as it can receive a form and enlarge the empire of ideas4 ,accordingly1 the taste of the age need not much fear these criticisms if it can clear itself before better judges4 ,our defect is not to grant a value to aesthetic appearance 7we do not do this enough73 a severe judge of the beautiful might rather reproach us with not having arrived at pure appearance1 with not having separated clearly enough existence from the phenomenon1 and thus established their limits4 ,we shall deserve this reproach so long as we cannot enjoy the beautiful in living nature without desiring it2 as long as we cannot admire the beautiful in the imitative arts without having an end in view2 as long as we do not grant to imagination an absolute legislation of its own2 and as long as we do not inspire it with care for its dignity by the esteem we testify for its works4 ,,letter ,,xxvii4 ,do not fear for reality and truth4 ,even if the elevated idea of aesthetic appearance become general1 it would not become so1 as long as man remains so little cultivated as to abuse it2 and if it became general1 this would result from a culture that would prevent all abuse of it4 ,the pursuit of independent appearance requires more power of abstraction1 freedom of heart1 and energy of will than man requires to shut himself up in reality2 and he must have left the latter behind him if he wishes to attain to aesthetic appearance4 ,therefore1 a man would calculate very badly who took the road of the ideal to save himself that of reality4 ,thus1 reality would not have much to fear from appearance1 as we understand it2 but1 on the other hand1 appearance would have more to fear from reality4 ,chained to matter1 man uses appearance for his purposes before he allows it a proper personality in the art of the ideal3 to come to that point a complete revolution must take place in his mode of feeling1 otherwise1 he would not be even on the way to the ideal4 ,consequently1 when we find in man the signs of a pure and disinterested esteem1 we can infer that this revolution has taken place in his nature1 and that humanity has really begun in him4 ,signs of this kind are found even in the first and rude attempts that he makes to embellish his existence1 even at the risk of making it worse in its material conditions4 ,as soon as he begins to prefer form to substance and to risk reality for appearance 7known by him to be such71 the barriers of animal life fall1 and he finds himself on a track that has no end4 ,not satisfied with the needs of nature1 he demands the superfluous4 ,first1 only the superfluous of matter1 to secure his enjoyment beyond the present necessity2 but afterward2 he wishes a superabundance in matter1 an aesthetical supplement to satisfy the impulse for the formal1 to extend enjoyment beyond necessity4 ,by piling up provisions simply for a future use1 and anticipating their enjoyment in the imagination1 he outsteps the limits of the present moment1 but not those of time in general4 ,he enjoys more2 he does not enjoy differently4 ,but as soon as he makes form enter into his enjoyment1 and he keeps in view the forms of the objects which satisfy his desires1 he has not only increased his pleasure in extent and intensity1 but he has also ennobled it in mode and species4 ,no doubt nature has given more than is necessary to unreasoning beings2 she has caused a gleam of freedom to shine even in the darkness of animal life4 ,when the lion is not tormented by hunger1 and when no wild beast challenges him to fight1 his unemployed energy creates an object for himself2 full of ardor1 he fills the re-echoing desert with his terrible roars1 and his exuberant force rejoices in itself1 showing itself without an object4 ,the insect flits about rejoicing in life in the sunlight1 and it is certainly not the cry of want that makes itself heard in the melodious song of the bird2 there is undeniably freedom in these movements1 though it is not emancipation from want in general1 but from a determinate external necessity4 ,the animal works1 when a privation is the motor of its activity1 and it plays when the plenitude of force is this motor1 when an exuberant life is excited to action4 ,even in inanimate nature a luxury of strength and a latitude of determination are shown1 which in this material sense might be styled play4 ,the tree produces numberless germs that are abortive without developing1 and it sends forth more roots1 branches1 and leaves1 organs of nutrition1 than are used for the preservation of the species4 ,whatever this tree restores to the elements of its exuberant life1 without using it or enjoying it1 may be expended by life in free and joyful movements4 ,it is thus that nature offers in her material sphere a sort of prelude to the limitless1 and that even there she suppresses partially the chains from which she will be completely emancipated in the realm of form4 ,the constraint of superabundance or physical play answers as a transition from the constraint of necessity1 or of physical seriousness1 to aesthetical play2 and before shaking off1 in the supreme freedom of the beautiful1 the yoke of any special aim1 nature already approaches1 at least remotely1 this independence1 by the free movement which is itself its own end and means4 ,the imagination1 like the bodily organs1 has in man its free movement and its material play1 a play in which1 without any reference to form1 it simply takes pleasure in its arbitrary power and in the absence of all hinderance4 ,these plays of fancy1 inasmuch as form is not mixed up with them1 and because a free succession of images makes all their charm1 though confined to man1 belong exclusively to animal life1 and only prove one thing--that he is delivered from all external sensuous constraint without our being entitled to infer that there is in it an independent plastic force4 ,from this play of free association of ideas1 which is still quite material in nature and is explained by simple natural laws1 the imagination1 by making the attempt of creating a free form1 passes at length at a jump to the aesthetic play3 ,i say at one leap1 for quite a new force enters into action here2 for here1 for the first time1 the legislative mind is mixed with the acts of a blind instinct1 subjects the arbitrary march of the imagination to its eternal and immutable unity1 causes its independent permanence to enter in that which is transitory1 and its infinity in the sensuous4 ,nevertheless1 as long as rude nature1 which knows of no other law than running incessantly from change to change1 will yet retain too much strength1 it will oppose itself by its different caprices to this necessity2 by its agitation to this permanence2 by its manifold needs to this independence1 and by its insatiability to this sublime simplicity4 ,it will be also troublesome to recognize the instinct of play in its first trials1 seeing that the sensuous impulsion1 with its capricious humor and its violent appetites1 constantly crosses4 ,it is on that account that we see the taste1 still coarse1 seize that which is new and startling1 the disordered1 the adventurous and the strange1 the violent and the savage1 and fly from nothing so much as from calm and simplicity4 ,it invents grotesque figures1 it likes rapid transitions1 luxurious forms1 sharply-marked changes1 acute tones1 a pathetic song4 ,that which man calls beautiful at this time is that which excites him1 that which gives him matter2 but that which excites him to give his personality to the object1 that which gives matter to a possible plastic operation1 for otherwise it would not be the beautiful for him4 ,a remarkable change has therefore taken place in the form of his judgments2 he searches for these objects1 not because they affect him1 but because they furnish him with the occasion of acting2 they please him1 not because they answer to a want1 but because they satisfy a law which speaks in his breast1 although quite low as yet4 ,soon it will not be sufficient for things to please him2 he will wish to please3 in the first place1 it is true1 only by that which belongs to him2 afterwards by that which he is4 ,that which he possesses1 that which he produces1 ought not merely to bear any more the traces of servitude1 nor to mark out the end1 simply and scrupulously1 by the form4 ,independently of the use to which it is destined1 the object ought also to reflect the enlightened intelligence which imagines it1 the hand which shaped it with affection1 the mind free and serene which chose it and exposed it to view4 ,now1 the ancient ,german searches for more magnificent furs1 for more splendid antlers of the stag1 for more elegant drinking-horns2 and the ,caledonian chooses the prettiest shells for his festivals4 ,the arms themselves ought to be no longer only objects of terror1 but also of pleasure2 and the skilfully-worked scabbard will not attract less attention than the homicidal edge of the sword4 ,the instinct of play1 not satisfied with bringing into the sphere of the necessary an aesthetic superabundance for the future more free1 is at last completely emancipated from the bonds of duty1 and the beautiful becomes of itself an object of man's exertions4 ,he adorns himself4 ,the free pleasure comes to take a place among his wants1 and the useless soon becomes the best part of his joys4 ,form1 which from the outside gradually approaches him1 in his dwelling1 his furniture1 his clothing1 begins at last to take possession of the man himself1 to transform him1 at first exteriorly1 and afterwards in the interior4 ,the disordered leaps of joy become the dance1 the formless gesture is changed into an amiable and harmonious pantomime1 the confused accents of feeling are developed1 and begin to obey measures and adapt themselves to song4 ,when1 like the flight of cranes1 the ,trojan army rushes on to the field of battle with thrilling cries1 the ,greek army approaches in silence and with a noble and measured step4 ,on the one side we see but the exuberance of a blind force1 on the other the triumph of form1 and the simple majesty of law4 ,now1 a nobler necessity binds the two sexes mutually1 and the interests of the heart contribute in rendering durable an alliance which was at first capricious and changing like the desire that knits it4 ,delivered from the heavy fetters of desire1 the eye1 now calmer1 attends to the form1 the soul contemplates the soul1 and the interested exchange of pleasure becomes a generous exchange of mutual inclination4 ,desire enlarges and rises to love1 in proportion as it sees humanity dawn in its object2 and1 despising the vile triumphs gained by the senses1 man tries to win a nobler victory over the will4 ,the necessity of pleasing subjects the powerful nature to the gentle laws of taste2 pleasure may be stolen1 but love must be a gift4 ,to obtain this higher recompense1 it is only through the form and not through matter that it can carry on the contest4 ,it must cease to act on feeling as a force1 to appear in the intelligence as a simple phenomenon2 it must respect liberty1 as it is liberty it wishes to please4 ,the beautiful reconciles the contrast of different natures in its simplest and purest expression4 ,it also reconciles the eternal contrast of the two sexes in the whole complex framework of society1 or at all events it seeks to do so2 and1 taking as its model the free alliance it has knit between manly strength and womanly gentleness1 it strives to place in harmony1 in the moral world1 all the elements of gentleness and of violence4 ,now1 at length1 weakness becomes sacred1 and an unbridled strength disgraces2 the injustice of nature is corrected by the generosity of chivalrous manners4 ,the being whom no power can make tremble1 is disarmed by the amiable blush of modesty1 and tears extinguish a vengeance that blood could not have quenched4 ,hatred itself hears the delicate voice of honor1 the conqueror's sword spares the disarmed enemy1 and a hospitable hearth smokes for the stranger on the dreaded hillside where murder alone awaited him before4 ,in the midst of the formidable realm of forces1 and of the sacred empire of laws1 the aesthetic impulse of form creates by degrees a third and a joyous realm1 that of play and of the appearance1 where she emancipates man from fetters1 in all his relations1 and from all that is named constraint1 whether physical or moral4 ,if in the dynamic state of rights men mutually move and come into collision as forces1 in the moral 7ethical7 state of duties1 man opposes to man the majesty of the laws1 and chains down his will4 ,in this realm of the beautiful or the aesthetic state1 man ought to appear to man only as a form1 and an object of free play4 ,to give freedom through freedom is the fundamental law of this realm4 ,the dynamic state can only make society simple possibly by subduing nature through nature2 the moral 7ethical7 state can only make it morally necessary by submitting the will of the individual to the general will4 ,the aesthetic state alone can make it real1 because it carries out the will of all through the nature of the individual4 ,if necessity alone forces man to enter into society1 and if his reason engraves on his soul social principles1 it is beauty only that can give him a social character2 taste alone brings harmony into society1 because it creates harmony in the individual4 ,all other forms of perception divide the man1 because they are based exclusively either in the sensuous or in the spiritual part of his being4 ,it is only the perception of beauty that makes of him an entirety1 because it demands the co-operation of his two natures4 ,all other forms of communication divide society1 because they apply exclusively either to the receptivity or to the private activity of its members1 and therefore to what distinguishes men one from the other4 ,the aesthetic communication alone unites society because it applies to what is common to all its members4 ,we only enjoy the pleasures of sense as individuals1 without the nature of the race in us sharing in it2 accordingly1 we cannot generalize our individual pleasures1 because we cannot generalize our individuality4 ,we enjoy the pleasures of knowledge as a race1 dropping the individual in our judgment2 but we cannot generalize the pleasures of the understanding1 because we cannot eliminate individuality from the judgments of others as we do from our own4 ,beauty alone can we enjoy both as individuals and as a race1 that is1 as representing a race4 ,good appertaining to sense can only make one person happy1 because it is founded on inclination1 which is always exclusive2 and it can only make a man partially happy1 because his real personality does not share in it4 ,absolute good can only render a man happy conditionally1 for truth is only the reward of abnegation1 and a pure heart alone has faith in a pure will4 ,beauty alone confers happiness on all1 and under its influence every being forgets that he is limited4 ,taste does not suffer any superior or absolute authority1 and the sway of beauty is extended over appearance4 ,it extends up to the seat of reason's supremacy1 suppressing all that is material4 ,it extends down to where sensuous impulse rules with blind compulsion1 and form is undeveloped4 ,taste ever maintains its power on these remote borders1 where legislation is taken from it4 ,particular desires must renounce their egotism1 and the agreeable1 otherwise tempting the senses1 must in matters of taste adorn the mind with the attractions of grace4 ,duty and stern necessity must change their forbidding tone1 only excused by resistance1 and do homage to nature by a nobler trust in her4 ,taste leads our knowledge from the mysteries of science into the open expanse of common sense1 and changes a narrow scholasticism into the common property of the human race4 ,here the highest genius must leave its particular elevation1 and make itself familiar to the comprehension even of a child4 ,strength must let the ,graces bind it1 and the arbitrary lion must yield to the reins of love4 ,for this purpose taste throws a veil over physical necessity1 offending a free mind by its coarse nudity1 and dissimulating our degrading parentage with matter by a delightful illusion of freedom4 ,mercenary art itself rises from the dust2 and the bondage of the bodily1 at its magic touch1 falls off from the inanimate and animate4 ,in the aesthetic state the most slavish tool is a free citizen1 having the same rights as the noblest2 and the intellect which shapes the mass to its intent must consult it concerning its destination4 ,consequently1 in the realm of aesthetic appearance1 the idea of equality is realized1 which the political zealot would gladly see carried out socially4 ,it has often been said that perfect politeness is only found near a throne4 ,if thus restricted in the material1 man has1 as elsewhere appears1 to find compensation in the ideal world4 ,does such a state of beauty in appearance exist1 and where8 ,it must be in every finely-harmonized soul2 but as a fact1 only in select circles1 like the pure ideal of the church and state--in circles where manners are not formed by the empty imitations of the foreign1 but by the very beauty of nature2 where man passes through all sorts of complications in all simplicity and innocence1 neither forced to trench on another's freedom to preserve his own1 nor to show grace at the cost of dignity4 ,,aesthetical ,,essays4 ,,the ,,moral ,,utility ,,of ,,aesthetic ,,manners4 ,the author of the article which appeared in the eleventh number of ,the ,hours1 of #agie1 upon ,the ,danger of ,aesthetic ,manners1 was right to hold as doubtful a morality founded only on a feeling for the beautiful1 and which has no other warrant than taste2 but it is evident that a strong and pure feeling for the beautiful ought to exercise a salutary influence upon the moral life2 and this is the question of which ,i am about to treat4 ,when ,i attribute to taste the merit of contributing to moral progress1 it is not in the least my intention to pretend that the interest that good taste takes in an action suffices to make an action moral2 morality could never have any other foundation than her own4 ,taste can be favorable to morality in the conduct1 as ,i hope to point out in the present essay2 but alone1 and by its unaided influence1 it could never produce anything moral4 ,it is absolutely the same with respect to internal liberty as with external physical liberty4 ,i act freely in a physical sense only when1 independently of all external influence1 ,i simply obey my will4 ,but for the possibility of thus obeying without hinderance my own will1 it is probable1 ultimately1 that ,i am indebted to a principle beyond or distinct from myself immediately it is admitted that this principle would hamper my will4 ,the same also with regard to the possibility of accomplishing such action in conformity with duty--it may be that ,i owe it1 ultimately1 to a principle distinct from my reason2 that is possible1 the moment the idea of this principle is recognized as a force which could have constrained my independence4 ,thus the same as we can say of a man1 that he holds his liberty from another man1 although liberty in its proper sense consists in not being forced to be regulated by another--in like manner we can also say that taste here obeys virtue1 although virtue herself expressly carries this idea1 that in the practice of virtue she makes use of no other foreign help4 ,an action does not in any degree cease to be free1 because he who could hamper its accomplishment should fortunately abstain from putting any obstacle in the way2 it suffices to know that this agent has been moved by his own will without any consideration of another will4 ,in the same way1 an action of the moral order does not lose its right to be qualified as a moral action1 because the temptations which might have turned it in another direction did not present themselves2 it suffices to admit that the agent obeyed solely the decree of his reason to the exclusion of all foreign springs of action4 ,the liberty of an external act is established as soon as it directly proceeds from the will of a person2 the morality of an interior action is established from the moment that the will of the agent is at once determined to it by the laws of reason4 ,it may be rendered easier or more difficult to act as free men according as we meet or not in our path forces adverse to our will that must be overcome4 ,in this sense liberty is more or less susceptible4 ,it is greater1 or at least more visible1 when we enable it to prevail over the opposing forces1 however energetic their opposition2 but it is not suspended because our will should have met with no resistance1 or that a foreign succor coming to our aid should have destroyed this resistance1 without any help from ourselves4 ,the same with respect to morality2 we might have more or less resistance to offer in order on the instant to obey our reason1 according as it awakens or not in us those instincts which struggle against its precepts1 and which must be put aside4 ,in this sense morality is susceptible of more or of less4 ,our morality is greater1 or at least more in relief1 when we immediately obey reason1 however powerful the instincts are which push us in a contrary direction2 but it is not suspended because we have had no temptation to disobey1 or that this force had been paralyzed by some other force other than our will4 ,we are incited to an action solely because it is moral1 without previously asking ourselves if it is the most agreeable4 ,it is enough that such an action is morally good1 and it would preserve this character even if there were cause to believe that we should have acted differently if the action had cost us any trouble1 or had deprived us of a pleasure4 ,it can be admitted1 for the honor of humanity1 that no man could fall so low as to prefer evil solely because it is evil1 but rather that every man1 without exception1 would prefer the good because it is the good1 if by some accidental circumstance the good did not exclude the agreeable1 or did not entail trouble4 ,thus in reality all moral action seems to have no other principle than a conflict between the good and the agreeable2 or1 that which comes to the same thing1 between desire and reason2 the force of our sensuous instincts on one side1 and1 on the other side1 the feebleness of will1 the moral faculty3 such apparently is the source of all our faults4 ,there may be1 therefore1 two different ways of favoring morality1 the same as there are two kinds of obstacles which thwart it3 either we must strengthen the side of reason1 and the power of the good will1 so that no temptation can overcome it2 or we must break the force of temptation1 in order that the reason and the will1 although feebler1 should yet be in a state to surmount it4 ,it might be said1 without doubt1 that true morality gains little by this second proceeding1 because it happens without any modification of the will1 and yet that it is the nature of the will that alone give to actions their moral character4 ,but ,i say also1 in the case in question1 a change of will is not at all necessary2 because we do not suppose a bad will which should require to be changed1 but only a will turned to good1 but which is feeble4 ,therefore1 this will1 inclined to good1 but too feeble1 does not fail to attain by this route to good actions1 which might not have happened if a stronger impulsion had drawn it in a contrary sense4 ,but every time that a strong will towards good becomes the principle of an action1 we are really in presence of a moral action4 ,i have therefore no scruple in advancing this proposition--that all which neutralizes the resistance offered to the law of duty really favors morality4 ,morality has within us a natural enemy1 the sensuous instinct2 this1 as soon as some object solicits its desires1 aspires at once to gratify it1 and1 as soon as reason requires from it anything repugnant1 it does not fail to rebel against its precepts4 ,this sensuous instinct is constantly occupied in gaining the will on its side4 ,the will is nevertheless under the jurisdiction of the moral law1 and it is under an obligation never to be in contradiction with that which reason demands4 ,but the sensuous instinct does not recognize the moral law2 it wishes to enjoy its object and to induce the will to realize it also1 notwithstanding what the reason may advance4 ,this tendency of the faculty of our appetites1 of immediately directing the will without troubling itself about superior laws1 is perpetually in conflict with our moral destination1 and it is the most powerful adversary that man has to combat in his moral conduct4 ,the coarse soul1 without either moral or aesthetic education1 receives directly the law of appetite1 and acts only according to the good pleasure of the senses4 ,the moral soul1 but which wants aesthetic culture1 receives in a direct manner the law of reason1 and it is only out of respect for duty that it triumphs over temptation4 ,in the purified aesthetic soul1 there is moreover another motive1 another force1 which frequently takes the place of virtue when virtue is absent1 and which renders it easier when it is present--that is1 taste4 ,taste demands of us moderation and dignity2 it has a horror of everything sharp1 hard and violent2 it likes all that shapes itself with ease and harmony4 ,to listen to the voice of reason amidst the tempest of the senses1 and to know where to place a limit to nature in its most brutified explosions1 is1 as we are aware1 required by good breeding1 which is no other than an aesthetic law2 this is required of every civilized man4 ,well1 then1 this constraint imposed upon civilized man in the expression of his feelings1 confers upon him already a certain degree of authority over them1 or at least develops in him a certain aptitude to rise above the purely passive state of the soul1 to interrupt this state by an initiative act1 and to stop by reflection the petulance of the feelings1 ever ready to pass from affections to acts4 ,therefore everything that interrupts the blind impetuosity of these movements of the affections does not as yet1 however1 produce1 ,i own1 a virtue 7for virtue ought never to have any other active principle than itself71 but that at least opens the road to the will1 in order to turn it on the side of virtue4 ,still1 this victory of taste over brutish affections is by no means a moral action1 and the freedom which the will acquires by the intervention of taste is as yet in no way a moral liberty4 ,taste delivers the soul from the yoke of instinct1 only to impose upon it chains of its own2 and in discerning the first enemy1 the declared enemy of moral liberty1 it remains itself1 too often1 as a second enemy1 perhaps even the more dangerous as it assumes the aspect of a friend4 ,taste effectively governs the soul itself only by the attraction of pleasure2 it is true of a nobler type1 because its principle is reason1 but still as long as the will is determined by pleasure there is not yet morality4 ,notwithstanding this1 a great point is gained already by the intervention of taste in the operations of the will4 ,all those material inclinations and brutal appetites1 which oppose with so much obstinacy and vehemence the practice of good1 the soul is freed from through the aesthetic taste2 and in their place1 it implants in us nobler and gentler inclinations1 which draw nearer to order1 to harmony1 and to perfection2 and although these inclinations are not by themselves virtues1 they have at least something in common with virtue2 it is their object4 ,thenceforth1 if it is the appetite that speaks1 it will have to undergo a rigorous control before the sense of the beautiful2 if it is the reason which speaks1 and which commands in its acts conformity with order1 harmony1 and perfection1 not only will it no longer meet with an adversary on the side of inclination1 but it will find the most active competition4 ,if we survey all the forms under which morality can be produced1 we shall see that all these forms can be reduced to two2 either it is sensuous nature which moves the soul either to do this thing or not to do the other1 and the will finally decides after the law of the reason2 or it is the reason itself which impels the motion1 and the will obeys it without seeking counsel of the senses4 ,the ,greek princess1 ,anna ,comnena1 speaks of a rebel prisoner1 whom her father ,alexis1 then a simple general of his predecessor1 had been charged to conduct to ,constantinople4 ,during the journey1 as they were riding side by side1 ,alexis desired to halt under the shade of a tree to refresh himself during the great heat of the day4 ,it was not long before he fell asleep1 whilst his companion1 who felt no inclination to repose with the fear of death awaiting him before his eyes1 remained awake4 ,alexis slumbered profoundly1 with his sword hanging upon a branch above his head2 the prisoner perceived the sword1 and immediately conceived the idea of killing his guardian and thus of regaining his freedom4 ,anna ,comnena gives us to understand that she knows not what might have been the result had not ,alexis fortunately awoke at that instant4 ,in this there is a moral of the highest kind1 in which the sensuous instinct first raised its voice1 and of which the reason had only afterwards taken cognizance in quality of judge4 ,but suppose that the prisoner had triumphed over the temptation only out of respect for justice1 there could be no doubt the action would have been a moral action4 ,when the late ,duke ,leopold of ,brunswick1 standing upon the banks of the raging waters of the ,oder1 asked himself if at the peril of his life he ought to venture into the impetuous flood in order to save some unfortunates who without his aid were sure to perish2 and when--,i suppose a case--simply under the influence of duty1 he throws himself into the boat into which none other dares to enter1 no one will contest doubtless that he acted morally4 ,the duke was here in a contrary position to that of the preceding one4 ,the idea of duty1 in this circumstance1 was the first which presented itself1 and afterwards only the instinct of self-preservation was roused to oppose itself to that prescribed by reason1 ,but in both cases the will acted in the same way2 it obeyed unhesitatingly the reason1 yet both of them are moral actions4 ,but would the action have continued moral in both cases1 if we suppose the aesthetic taste to have taken part in it8 ,for example1 suppose that the first1 who was tempted to commit a bad action1 and who gave it up from respect for justice1 had the taste sufficiently cultivated to feel an invincible horror aroused in him against all disgraceful or violent action1 the aesthetic sense alone will suffice to turn him from it2 there is no longer any deliberation before the moral tribunal1 before the conscience2 another motive1 another jurisdiction has already pronounced4 ,but the aesthetic sense governs the will by the feeling and not by laws4 ,thus this man refuses to enjoy the agreeable sensation of a life saved1 because he cannot support his odious feelings of having committed a baseness4 ,therefore all1 in this1 took place before the feelings alone1 and the conduct of this man1 although in conformity with the law1 is morally indifferent2 it is simply a fine effect of nature4 ,now let us suppose that the second1 he to whom his reason prescribed to do a thing against which natural instinct protested2 suppose that this man had to the same extent a susceptibility for the beautiful1 so that all which is great and perfect enraptured him2 at the same moment1 when reason gave the order1 the feelings would place themselves on the same side1 and he would do willingly that which without the inclination for the beautiful he would have had to do contrary to inclination4 ,but would this be a reason for us to find it less perfect8 ,assuredly not1 because in principle it acts out of pure respect for the prescriptions of reason2 and if it follows these injunctions with joy1 that can take nothing away from the moral purity of the act4 ,thus1 this man will be quite as perfect in the moral sense2 and1 on the contrary1 he will be incomparably more perfect in the physical sense1 because he is infinitely more capable of making a virtuous subject4 ,thus1 taste gives a direction to the soul which disposes it to virtue1 in keeping away such inclinations as are contrary to it1 and in rousing those which are favorable4 ,taste could not injure true virtue1 although in every case where natural instinct speaks first1 taste commences by deciding for its chief that which conscience otherwise ought to have known2 in consequence it is the cause that1 amongst the actions of those whom it governs1 there are many more actions morally indifferent than actions truly moral4 ,it thus happens that the excellency of the man does not consist in the least degree in producing a larger sum of vigorously moral particular actions1 but by evincing as a whole a greater conformity of all his natural dispositions with the moral law2 and it is not a thing to give people a very high idea of their country or of their age to hear morality so often spoken of and particular acts boasted of as traits of virtue4 ,let us hope that the day when civilization shall have consummated its work 7if we can realize this term in the mind7 there will no longer be any question of this4 ,but1 on the other side1 taste can become of possible utility to true virtue1 in all cases when1 the first instigations issuing from reason1 its voice incurs the risk of being stifled by the more powerful solicitations of natural instinct4 ,thus1 taste determines our feelings to take the part of duty1 and in this manner renders a mediocre moral force of will sufficient for the practice of virtue4 ,in this light1 if the taste never injures true morality1 and if in many cases it is of evident use--and this circumstance is very important--then it is supremely favorable to the legality of our conduct4 ,suppose that aesthetic education contributes in no degree to the improvement of our feelings1 at least it renders us better able to act1 although without true moral disposition1 as we should have acted if our soul had been truly moral4 ,therefore1 it is quite true that1 before the tribunal of the conscience1 our acts have absolutely no importance but as the expression of our feelings3 but it is precisely the contrary in the physical order and in the plan of nature3 there it is no longer our sentiments that are of importance2 they are only important so far as they give occasion to acts which conduce to the aims of nature4 ,but the physical order which is governed by forces1 and the moral order which governs itself by laws1 are so exactly made one for the other1 and are so intimately blended1 that the actions which are by their form morally suitable1 necessarily contain also a physical suitability2 and as the entire edifice of nature seems to exist only to render possible the highest of all aims1 which is the good1 in the same manner the good can in its turn be employed as the means of preserving the edifice4 ,thus1 the natural order has been rendered dependent upon the morality of our souls1 and we cannot go against the moral laws of the world without at the same time provoking a perturbation in the physical world4 ,if1 then1 it is impossible to expect that human nature1 as long as it is only human nature1 should act without interruption or feebleness1 uniformly and constantly as pure reason1 and that it never offend the laws of moral order2 if fully persuaded1 as we are1 both of the necessity and the possibility of pure virtue1 we are forced to avow how subject to accident is the exercise of it1 and how little we ought to reckon upon the steadfastness of our best principles2 if with this conviction of human fragility we bear in mind that each of the infractions of the moral law attacks the edifice of nature1 if we recall all these considerations to our memory1 it would be assuredly the most criminal boldness to place the interests of the entire world at the mercy of the uncertainty of our virtue4 ,let us rather draw from it the following conclusion1 that it is for us an obligation to satisfy at the very least the physical order by the object of our acts1 even when we do not satisfy the exigencies of the moral order by the form of these acts2 to pay1 at least1 as perfect instruments the aims of nature1 that which we owe as imperfect persons to reason1 in order not to appear shamefaced before both tribunals4 ,for if we refused to make any effort to conform our acts to it because simple legality is without moral merit1 the order of the world might in the meanwhile be dissolved1 and before we had succeeded in establishing our principles all the links of society might be broken4 ,no1 the more our morality is subjected to chance1 the more is it necessary to take measures in order to assure its legality2 to neglect1 either from levity or pride1 this legality is a fault for which we shall have to answer before morality4 ,when a maniac believes himself threatened with a fit of madness1 he leaves no knife within reach of his hands1 and he puts himself under constraint1 in order to avoid responsibility in a state of sanity for the crimes which his troubled brain might lead him to commit4 ,in a similar manner it is an obligation for us to seek the salutary bonds which religion and the aesthetic laws present to us1 in order that during the crisis when our passion is dominant it shall not injure the physical order4 ,it is not unintentionally that ,i have placed religion and taste in one and the same class2 the reason is that both one and the other have the merit1 similar in effect1 although dissimilar in principle and in value1 to take the place of virtue properly so called1 and to assure legality where there is no possibility to hope for morality4 ,doubtless that would hold an incontestably higher rank in the order of pure spirits1 as they would need neither the attraction of the beautiful nor the perspective of eternal life1 to conform on every occasion to the demands of reason2 but we know man is short-sighted1 and his feebleness forces the most rigid moralist to temper in some degree the rigidity of his system in practice1 although he will yield nothing in theory2 it obliges him1 in order to insure the welfare of the human race1 which would be ill protected by a virtue subjected to chance1 to have further recourse to two strong anchors--those of religion and taste4 ,,on ,,the ,,sublime4 ,man is never obliged to say1 ,i must--must1 says the ,jew ,nathan ,lessing's play1 ,nathan the ,wise1 act i4 scene #c4 to the dervish2 and this expression is true in a wider sense than man might be tempted to suppose4 ,the will is the specific character of man1 and reason itself is only the eternal rule of his will4 ,all nature acts reasonably2 all our prerogative is to act reasonably1 with consciousness and with will4 ,all other objects obey necessity2 man is the being who wills4 ,it is exactly for this reason that there is nothing more inconsistent with the dignity of man than to suffer violence1 for violence effaces him4 ,he who does violence to us disputes nothing less than our humanity2 he who submits in a cowardly spirit to the violence abdicates his quality of man4 ,but this pretension to remain absolutely free from all that is violence seems to imply a being in possession of a force sufficiently great to keep off all other forces4 ,but if this pretension is found in a being who1 in the order of forces1 cannot claim the first rank1 the result is an unfortunate contradiction between his instinct and his power4 ,man is precisely in this case4 ,surrounded by numberless forces1 which are all superior to him and hold sway over him1 he aspires by his nature not to have to suffer any injury at their hands4 ,it is true that by his intelligence he adds artificially to his natural forces1 and that up to a certain point he actually succeeds in reigning physically over everything that is physical4 ,the proverb says1 there is a remedy for everything except death2 but this exception1 if it is one in the strictest acceptation of the term1 would suffice to entirely ruin the very idea of our nature4 ,never will man be the cause that wills1 if there is a case1 a single case1 in which1 with or without his consent1 he is forced to what he does not wish4 ,this single terrible exception1 to be or to do what is necessary and not what he wishes1 this idea will pursue him as a phantom2 and as we see in fact among the greater part of men1 it will give him up a prey to the blind terrors of imagination4 ,his boasted liberty is nothing1 if there is a single point where he is under constraint and bound4 ,it is education that must give back liberty to man1 and help him to complete the whole idea of his nature4 ,it ought1 therefore1 to make him capable of making his will prevail1 for1 ,i repeat it1 man is the being who wills4 ,it is possible to reach this end in two ways3 either really1 by opposing force to force1 by commanding nature1 as nature yourself2 or by the idea1 issuing from nature1 and by thus destroying in relation to self the very idea of violence4 ,all that helps man really to hold sway over nature is what is styled physical education4 ,man cultivates his understanding and develops his physical force1 either to convert the forces of nature1 according to their proper laws1 into the instruments of his will1 or to secure himself against their effects when he cannot direct them4 ,but the forces of nature can only be directed or turned aside up to a certain point2 beyond that point they withdraw from the influence of man and place him under theirs4 ,thus beyond the point in question his freedom would be lost1 were he only susceptible of physical education4 ,but he must be man in the full sense of the term1 and consequently he must have nothing to endure1 in any case1 contrary to his will4 ,accordingly1 when he can no longer oppose to the physical forces any proportional physical force1 only one resource remains to him to avoid suffering any violence3 that is1 to cause to cease entirely that relation which is so fatal to him4 ,it is1 in short1 to annihilate as an idea the violence he is obliged to suffer in fact4 ,the education that fits man for this is called moral education4 ,the man fashioned by moral education1 and he only1 is entirely free4 ,he is either superior to nature as a power1 or he is in harmony with her4 ,none of the actions that she brings to bear upon him is violence1 for before reaching him it has become an act of his own will1 and dynamic nature could never touch him1 because he spontaneously keeps away from all to which she can reach4 ,but to attain to this state of mind1 which morality designates as resignation to necessary things1 and religion styles absolute submission to the counsels of ,providence1 to reach this by an effort of his free will and with reflection1 a certain clearness is required in thought1 and a certain energy in the will1 superior to what man commonly possesses in active life4 ,happily for him1 man finds here not only in his rational nature a moral aptitude that can be developed by the understanding1 but also in his reasonable and sensible nature--that is1 in his human nature--an aesthetic tendency which seems to have been placed there expressly3 a faculty awakens of itself in the presence of certain sensuous objects1 and which1 after our feelings are purified1 can be cultivated to such a point as to become a powerful ideal development4 ,this aptitude1 ,i grant1 is idealistic in its principle and in its essence1 but one which even the realist allows to be seen clearly enough in his conduct1 though he does not acknowledge this in theory4 ,i am now about to discuss this faculty4 ,i admit that the sense of the beautiful1 when it is developed by culture1 suffices of itself even to make us1 in a certain sense1 independent of nature as far as it is a force4 ,a mind that has ennobled itself sufficiently to be more sensible of the form than of the matter of things1 contains in itself a plenitude of existence that nothing could make it lose1 especially as it does not trouble itself about the possession of the things in question1 and finds a very liberal pleasure in the mere contemplation of the phenomenon4 ,as this mind has no want to appropriate the objects in the midst of which it lives1 it has no fear of being deprived of them4 ,but it is nevertheless necessary that these phenomena should have a body1 through which they manifest themselves2 and1 consequently1 as long as we feel the want even only of finding a beautiful appearance or a beautiful phenomenon1 this want implies that of the existence of certain objects2 and it follows that our satisfaction still depends on nature1 considered as a force1 because it is nature who disposes of all existence in a sovereign manner4 ,it is a different thing1 in fact1 to feel in yourself the want of objects endowed with beauty and goodness1 or simply to require that the objects which surround us are good and beautiful4 ,this last desire is compatible with the most perfect freedom of the soul2 but it is not so with the other4 ,we are entitled to require that the object before us should be beautiful and good1 but we can only wish that the beautiful and the good should be realized objectively before us4 ,now the disposition of mind is1 par excellence1 called grand and sublime1 in which no attention is given to the question of knowing if the beautiful1 the good1 and the perfect exist2 but when it is rigorously required that that which exists should be good1 beautiful and perfect1 this character of mind is called sublime1 because it contains in it positively all the characteristics of a fine mind without sharing its negative features4 ,a sign by which beautiful and good minds1 but having weaknesses1 are recognized1 is the aspiring always to find their moral ideal realized in the world of facts1 and their being painfully affected by all that places an obstacle to it4 ,a mind thus constituted is reduced to a sad state of dependence in relation to chance1 and it may always be predicted of it1 without fear of deception1 that it will give too large a share to the matter in moral and aesthetical things1 and that it will not sustain the more critical trials of character and taste4 ,moral imperfections ought not to be to us a cause of suffering and of pain3 suffering and pain bespeak rather an ungratified wish than an unsatisfied moral want4 ,an unsatisfied moral want ought to be accompanied by a more manly feeling1 and fortify our mind and confirm it in its energy rather than make us unhappy and pusillanimous4 ,nature has given to us two genii as companions in our life in this lower world4 ,the one1 amiable and of good companionship1 shortens the troubles of the journey by the gayety of its plays4 ,it makes the chains of necessity light to us1 and leads us amidst joy and laughter1 to the most perilous spots1 where we must act as pure spirits and strip ourselves of all that is body1 on the knowledge of the true and the practice of duty4 ,once when we are there1 it abandons us1 for its realm is limited to the world of sense2 its earthly wings could not carry it beyond4 ,but at this moment the other companion steps upon the stage1 silent and grave1 and with his powerful arm carries us beyond the precipice that made us giddy4 ,in the former of these genii we recognize the feeling of the beautiful1 in the other the feeling of the sublime4 ,no doubt the beautiful itself is already an expression of liberty4 ,this liberty is not the kind that raises us above the power of nature1 and that sets us free from all bodily influence1 but it is only the liberty which we enjoy as men1 without issuing from the limits of nature4 ,in the presence of beauty we feel ourselves free1 because the sensuous instincts are in harmony with the laws of reason4 ,in presence of the sublime we feel ourselves sublime1 because the sensuous instincts have no influence over the jurisdiction of reason1 because it is then the pure spirit that acts in us as if it were not absolutely subject to any other laws than its own4 ,the feeling of the sublime is a mixed feeling4 ,it is at once a painful state1 which in its paroxysm is manifested by a kind of shudder1 and a joyous state1 that may rise to rapture1 and which1 without being properly a pleasure1 is greatly preferred to every kind of pleasure by delicate souls4 ,this union of two contrary sensations in one and the same feeling proves in a peremptory manner our moral independence4 ,for as it is absolutely impossible that the same object should be with us in two opposite relations1 it follows that it is we ourselves who sustain two different relations with the object4 ,it follows that these two opposed natures should be united in us1 which1 on the idea of this object1 are brought into play in two perfectly opposite ways4 ,thus we experience by the feeling of the beautiful that the state of our spiritual nature is not necessarily determined by the state of our sensuous nature2 that the laws of nature are not necessarily our laws2 and that there is in us an autonomous principle independent of all sensuous impressions4 ,the sublime object may be considered in two lights4 ,we either represent it to our comprehension1 and we try in vain to make an image or idea of it1 or we refer it to our vital force1 and we consider it as a power before which ours is nothing4 ,but though in both cases we experience in connection with this object the painful feeling of our limits1 yet we do not seek to avoid it2 on the contrary we are attracted to it by an irresistible force4 ,could this be the case if the limits of our imagination were at the same time those of our comprehension8 ,should we be willingly called back to the feeling of the omnipotence of the forces of nature if we had not in us something that cannot be a prey of these forces4 ,we are pleased with the spectacle of the sensuous infinite1 because we are able to attain by thought what the senses can no longer embrace and what the understanding cannot grasp4 ,the sight of a terrible object transports us with enthusiasm1 because we are capable of willing what the instincts reject with horror1 and of rejecting what they desire4 ,we willingly allow our imagination to find something in the world of phenomena that passes beyond it2 because1 after all1 it is only one sensuous force that triumphs over another sensuous force1 but nature1 notwithstanding all her infinity1 cannot attain to the absolute grandeur which is in ourselves4 ,we submit willingly to physical necessity both our well-being and our existence4 ,this is because the very power reminds us that there are in us principles that escape its empire4 ,man is in the hands of nature1 but the will of man is in his own hands4 ,nature herself has actually used a sensuous means to teach us that we are something more than mere sensuous natures4 ,she has even known how to make use of our sensations to put us on the track of this discovery--that we are by no means subject as slaves to the violence of the sensations4 ,and this is quite a different effect from that which can be produced by the beautiful2 ,i mean the beautiful of the real world1 for the sublime itself is surpassed by the ideal4 ,in the presence of beauty1 reason and sense are in harmony1 and it is only on account of this harmony that the beautiful has attraction for us4 ,consequently1 beauty alone could never teach us that our destination is to act as pure intelligences1 and that we are capable of showing ourselves such4 ,in the presence of the sublime1 on the contrary1 reason and the sensuous are not in harmony1 and it is precisely this contradiction between the two which makes the charm of the sublime--its irresistible action on our minds4 ,here the physical man and the moral man separate in the most marked manner2 for it is exactly in the presence of objects that make us feel at once how limited the former is that the other makes the experience of its force4 ,the very thing that lowers one to the earth is precisely that which raises the other to the infinite4 ,let us imagine a man endowed with all the virtues of which the union constitutes a fine character4 ,let us suppose a man who finds his delight in practising justice1 beneficence1 moderation1 constancy1 and good faith4 ,all the duties whose accomplishment is prescribed to him by circumstances are only a play to him1 and ,i admit that fortune favors him in such wise that none of the actions which his good heart may demand of him will be hard to him4 ,who would not be charmed with such a delightful harmony between the instincts of nature and the prescriptions of reason8 and who could help admiring such a man8 ,nevertheless1 though he may inspire us with affection1 are we quite sure that he is really virtuous8 ,or in general that he has anything that corresponds to the idea of virtue8 ,if this man had only in view to obtain agreeable sensations1 unless he were mad he could not act in any other possible way2 and he would have to be his own enemy to wish to be vicious4 ,perhaps the principle of his actions is pure1 but this is a question to be discussed between himself and his conscience4 ,for our part1 we see nothing of it2 we do not see him do anything more than a simply clever man would do who had no other god than pleasure4 ,thus all his virtue is a phenomenon that is explained by reasons derived from the sensuous order1 and we are by no means driven to seek for reasons beyond the world of sense4 ,let us suppose that this same man falls suddenly under misfortune4 ,he is deprived of his possessions2 his reputation is destroyed2 he is chained to his bed by sickness and suffering2 he is robbed by death of all those he loves2 he is forsaken in his distress by all in whom he had trusted4 ,let us under these circumstances again seek him1 and demand the practice of the same virtues under trial as he formerly had practised during the period of his prosperity4 ,if he is found to be absolutely the same as before1 if his poverty has not deteriorated his benevolence1 or ingratitude his kindly offices of good-will1 or bodily suffering his equanimity1 or adversity his joy in the happiness of others2 if his change of fortune is perceptible in externals1 but not in his habits1 in the matter1 but not in the form of his conduct2 then1 doubtless1 his virtue could not be explained by any reason drawn from the physical order2 the idea of nature--which always necessarily supposes that actual phenomena rest upon some anterior phenomenon1 as effects upon cause--this idea no longer suffices to enable us to comprehend this man2 because there is nothing more contradictory than to admit that effect can remain the same when the cause has changed to its contrary4 ,we must then give up all natural explanation or thought of finding the reason of his acts in his condition2 we must of necessity go beyond the physical order1 and seek the principle of his conduct in quite another world1 to which the reason can indeed raise itself with its ideas1 but which the understanding cannot grasp by its conceptions4 ,it is this revelation of the absolute moral power which is subjected to no condition of nature1 it is this which gives to the melancholy feeling that seizes our heart at the sight of such a man that peculiar1 inexpressible charm1 which no delight of the senses1 however refined1 could arouse in us to the same extent as the sublime4 ,thus the sublime opens to us a road to overstep the limits of the world of sense1 in which the feeling of the beautiful would forever imprison us4 ,it is not little by little 7for between absolute dependence and absolute liberty there is no possible transition71 it is suddenly and by a shock that the sublime wrenches our spiritual and independent nature away from the net which feeling has spun round us1 and which enchains the soul the more tightly because of its subtle texture4 ,whatever may be the extent to which feeling has gained a mastery over men by the latent influence of a softening taste1 when even it should have succeeded in penetrating into the most secret recesses of moral jurisdiction under the deceptive envelope of spiritual beauty1 and there poisoning the holiness of principle at its source--one single sublime emotion often suffices to break all this tissue of imposture1 at one blow to give freedom to the fettered elasticity of spiritual nature1 to reveal its true destination1 and to oblige it to conceive1 for one instant at least1 the feeling of its liberty4 ,beauty1 under the shape of the divine ,calypso1 bewitched the virtuous son of ,ulysses1 and the power of her charms held him long a prisoner in her island4 ,for long he believed he was obeying an immortal divinity1 whilst he was only the slave of sense2 but suddenly an impression of the sublime in the form of ,mentor seizes him2 he remembers that he is called to a higher destiny--he throws himself into the waves1 and is free4 ,the sublime1 like the beautiful1 is spread profusely throughout nature1 and the faculty to feel both one and the other has been given to all men2 but the germ does not develop equally2 it is necessary that art should lend its aid4 ,the aim of nature supposes already that we ought spontaneously to advance towards the beautiful1 although we still avoid the sublime3 for the beautiful is like the nurse of our childhood1 and it is for her to refine our soul in withdrawing it from the rude state of nature4 ,but though she is our first affection1 and our faculty of feeling is first developed for her1 nature has so provided1 nevertheless1 that this faculty ripens slowly and awaits its full development until the understanding and the heart are formed4 ,if taste attains its full maturity before truth and morality have been established in our heart by a better road than that which taste would take1 the sensuous world would remain the limit of our aspirations4 ,we should not know1 either in our ideas or in our feelings1 how to pass beyond the world of sense1 and all that imagination failed to represent would be without reality to us4 ,but happily it enters into the plan of nature1 that taste1 although it first comes into bloom1 is the last to ripen of all the faculties of the mind4 ,during this interval1 man has time to store up in his mind a provision of ideas1 a treasure of principles in his heart1 and then to develop especially1 in drawing from reason1 his feeling for the great and the sublime4 ,as long as man was only the slave of physical necessity1 while he had found no issue to escape from the narrow circle of his appetites1 and while he as yet felt none of that superior liberty which connects him with the angels1 nature1 so far as she is incomprehensible1 could not fail to impress him with the insufficiency of his imagination1 and again1 as far as she is a destructive force1 to recall his physical powerlessness4 ,he is forced then to pass timidly towards one1 and to turn away with affright from the other4 ,but scarcely has free contemplation assured him against the blind oppression of the forces of nature--scarcely has he recognized amidst the tide of phenomena something permanent in his own being--than at once the coarse agglomeration of nature that surrounds him begins to speak in another language to his heart1 and the relative grandeur which is without becomes for him a mirror in which he contemplates the absolute greatness which is within himself4 ,he approaches without fear1 and with a thrill of pleasure1 those pictures which terrified his imagination1 and intentionally makes an appeal to the whole strength of that faculty by which we represent the infinite perceived by the senses1 in order if she fails in this attempt1 to feel all the more vividly how much these ideas are superior to all that the highest sensuous faculty can give4 ,the sight of a distant infinity--of heights beyond vision1 this vast ocean which is at his feet1 that other ocean still more vast which stretches above his head1 transport and ravish his mind beyond the narrow circle of the real1 beyond this narrow and oppressive prison of physical life4 ,the simple majesty of nature offers him a less circumscribed measure for estimating its grandeur1 and1 surrounded by the grand outlines which it presents to him1 he can no longer bear anything mean in his way of thinking4 ,who can tell how many luminous ideas1 how many heroic resolutions1 which would never have been conceived in the dark study of the imprisoned man of science1 nor in the saloons where the people of society elbow each other1 have been inspired on a sudden during a walk1 only by the contact and the generous struggle of the soul with the great spirit of nature8 ,who knows if it is not owing to a less frequent intercourse with this sublime spirit that we must partially attribute the narrowness of mind so common to the dwellers in towns1 always bent under the minutiae which dwarf and wither their soul1 whilst the soul of the nomad remains open and free as the firmament beneath which he pitches his tent8 ,but it is not only the unimaginable or the sublime in quantity1 it is also the incomprehensible1 that which escapes the understanding and that which troubles it1 which can serve to give us an idea of the super-sensuous infinity4 ,as soon as this element attains the grandiose and announces itself to us as the work of nature 7for otherwise it is only despicable71 it then aids the soul to represent to itself the ideal1 and imprints upon it a noble development4 ,who does not love the eloquent disorder of natural scenery to the insipid regularity of a ,french garden8 ,who does not admire in the plains of ,sicily the marvellous combat of nature with herself--of her creative force and her destructive power8 ,who does not prefer to feast his eyes upon the wild streams and waterfalls of ,scotland1 upon its misty mountains1 upon that romantic nature from which ,ossian drew his inspiration--rather than to grow enthusiastic in this stiff ,holland1 before the laborious triumph of patience over the most stubborn of elements8 ,no one will deny that in the rich grazing-grounds of ,holland1 things are not better ordered for the wants of physical man than upon the perfid crater of ,vesuvius1 and that the understanding which likes to comprehend and arrange all things1 does not find its requirements rather in the regularly planted farm-garden than in the uncultivated beauty of natural scenery4 ,but man has requirements which go beyond those of natural life and comfort or well-being2 he has another destiny than merely to comprehend the phenomena which surround him4 ,in the same manner as for the observant traveller1 the strange wildness of nature is so attractive in physical nature--thus1 and for the same reason1 every soul capable of enthusiasm finds even in the regrettable anarchy found in the moral world a source of singular pleasure4 ,without doubt he who sees the grand economy of nature only from the impoverished light of the understanding2 he who has never any other thought than to reform its defiant disorder and to substitute harmony1 such a one could not find pleasure in a world which seems given up to the caprice of chance rather than governed according to a wise ordination1 and where merit and fortune are for the most part in opposition4 ,he desires that the whole world throughout its vast space should be ruled like a house well regulated2 and when this much-desired regularity is not found1 he has no other resource than to defer to a future life1 and to another and better nature1 the satisfaction which is his due1 but which neither the present nor the past afford him4 ,on the contrary1 he renounces willingly the pretension of restoring this chaos of phenomena to one single notion2 he regains on another side1 and with interest1 what he loses on this side4 ,just this want of connection1 this anarchy1 in the phenomena1 making them useless to the understanding1 is what makes them valuable to reason4 ,the more they are disorderly the more they represent the freedom of nature4 ,in a sense1 if you suppress all connection1 you have independence4 ,thus1 under the idea of liberty1 reason brings back to unity of thought that which the understanding could not bring to unity of notion4 ,it thus shows its superiority over the understanding1 as a faculty subject to the conditions of a sensuous order4 ,when we consider of what value it is to a rational being to be independent of natural laws1 we see how much man finds in the liberty of sublime objects as a set-off against the checks of his cognitive faculty4 ,liberty1 with all its drawbacks1 is everywhere vastly more attractive to a noble soul than good social order without it--than society like a flock of sheep1 or a machine working like a watch4 ,this mechanism makes of man only a product2 liberty makes him the citizen of a better world4 ,it is only thus viewed that history is sublime to me4 ,the world1 as a historic object1 is only the strife of natural forces2 with one another and with man's freedom4 ,history registers more actions referable to nature than to free will2 it is only in a few cases1 like ,cato and ,phocion1 that reason has made its power felt4 ,if we expect a treasury of knowledge in history how we are deceived6 ,all attempts of philosophy to reconcile what the moral world demands with what the real world gives is belied by experience1 and nature seems as illogical in history as she is logical in the organic kingdoms4 ,but if we give up explanation it is different4 ,nature1 in being capricious and defying logic1 in pulling down great and little1 in crushing the noblest works of man1 taking centuries to form--nature1 by deviating from intellectual laws1 proves that you cannot explain nature by nature's laws themselves1 and this sight drives the mind to the world of ideas1 to the absolute4 ,but though nature as a sensuous activity drives us to the ideal1 it throws us still more into the world of ideas by the terrible4 ,our highest aspiration is to be in good relations with physical nature1 without violating morality4 ,but it is not always convenient to serve two masters2 and though duty and the appetites should never be at strife1 physical necessity is peremptory1 and nothing can save men from evil destiny4 ,happy is he who learns to bear what he cannot change6 ,there are cases where fate overpowers all ramparts1 and where the only resistance is1 like a pure spirit1 to throw freely off all interest of sense1 and strip yourself of your body4 ,now this force comes from sublime emotions1 and a frequent commerce with destructive nature4 ,pathos is a sort of artificial misfortune1 and brings us to the spiritual law that commands our soul4 ,real misfortune does not always choose its time opportunely1 while pathos finds us armed at all points4 ,by frequently renewing this exercise of its own activity the mind controls the sensuous1 so that when real misfortune comes1 it can treat it as an artificial suffering1 and make it a sublime emotion4 ,thus pathos takes away some of the malignity of destiny1 and wards off its blows4 ,away then with that false theory which supposes falsely a harmony binding well being and well doing4 ,let evil destiny show its face4 ,our safety is not in blindness1 but in facing our dangers4 ,what can do so better than familiarity with the splendid and terrible evolution of events1 or than pictures showing man in conflict with chance2 evil triumphant1 security deceived--pictures shown us throughout history1 and placed before us by tragedy8 ,whoever passes in review the terrible fate of ,mithridates1 of ,syracuse1 and ,carthage1 cannot help keeping his appetite in check1 at least for a time1 and1 seeing the vanity of things1 strive after that which is permanent4 ,the capacity of the sublime is one of the noblest aptitudes of man4 ,beauty is useful1 but does not go beyond man4 ,the sublime applies to the pure spirit4 ,the sublime must be joined to the beautiful to complete the aesthetic education1 and to enlarge man's heart beyond the sensuous world4 ,without the beautiful there would be an eternal strife between our natural and rational destiny4 ,if we only thought of our vocation as spirits we should be strangers to this sphere of life4 ,without the sublime1 beauty would make us forget our dignity4 ,enervated--wedded to this transient state1 we should lose sight of our true country4 ,we are only perfect citizens of nature when the sublime is wedded to the beautiful4 ,many things in nature offer man the beautiful and sublime4 ,but here again he is better served at second-hand4 ,he prefers to have them ready-made in art rather than seek them painfully in nature4 ,this instinct for imitation in art has the advantage of being able to make those points essential that nature has made secondary4 ,while nature suffers violence in the organic world1 or exercises violence1 working with power upon man1 though she can only be aesthetical as an object of pure contemplation1 art1 plastic art1 is fully free1 because it throws off all accidental restrictions and leaves the mind free1 because it imitates the appearance1 not the reality of objects4 ,as all sublimity and beauty consists in the appearance1 and not in the value of the object1 it follows that art has all the advantages of nature without her shackles4 ,,the ,,pathetic4 ,the depicting of suffering1 in the shape of simple suffering1 is never the end of art1 but it is of the greatest importance as a means of attaining its end4 ,the highest aim of art is to represent the super-sensuous1 and this is effected in particular by tragic art1 because it represents by sensible marks the moral man1 maintaining himself in a state of passion1 independently of the laws of nature4 ,the principle of freedom in man becomes conscious of itself only by the resistance it offers to the violence of the feelings4 ,now the resistance can only be measured by the strength of the attack4 ,in order1 therefore1 that the intelligence may reveal itself in man as a force independent of nature1 it is necessary that nature should have first displayed all her power before our eyes4 ,the sensuous being must be profoundly and strongly affected1 passion must be in play1 that the reasonable being may be able to testify his independence and manifest himself in action4 ,it is impossible to know if the empire which man has over his affections is the effect of a moral force1 till we have acquired the certainty that it is not an effect of insensibility4 ,there is no merit in mastering the feelings which only lightly and transitorily skim over the surface of the soul4 ,but to resist a tempest which stirs up the whole of sensuous nature1 and to preserve in it the freedom of the soul1 a faculty of resistance is required infinitely superior to the act of natural force4 ,accordingly it will not be possible to represent moral freedom1 except by expressing passion1 or suffering nature1 with the greatest vividness2 and the hero of tragedy must first have justified his claim to be a sensuous being before aspiring to our homage as a reasonable being1 and making us believe in his strength of mind4 ,therefore the pathetic is the first condition required most strictly in a tragic author1 and he is allowed to carry his description of suffering as far as possible1 without prejudice to the highest end of his art1 that is1 without moral freedom being oppressed by it4 ,he must give in some sort to his hero1 as to his reader1 their full load of suffering1 without which the question will always be put whether the resistance opposed to suffering is an act of the soul1 something positive1 or whether it is not rather a purely negative thing1 a simple deficiency4 ,the latter case is offered in the purer ,french tragedy1 where it is very rare1 or perhaps unexampled1 for the author to place before the reader suffering nature1 and where generally1 on the contrary1 it is only the poet who warms up and declaims1 or the comedian who struts about on stilts4 ,the icy tone of declamation extinguishes all nature here1 and the ,french tragedians1 with their superstitious worship of decorum1 make it quite impossible for them to paint human nature truly4 ,decorum1 wherever it is1 even in its proper place1 always falsifies the expression of nature1 and yet this expression is rigorously required by art4 ,in a ,french tragedy1 it is difficult for us to believe that the hero ever suffers1 for he explains the state of his soul1 as the coolest man would do1 and always thinking of the effect he is making on others1 he never lets nature pour forth freely4 ,the kings1 the princesses1 and the heroes of ,corneille or ,voltaire never forget their rank even in the most violent excess of passion2 and they part with their humanity much sooner than with their dignity4 ,they are like those kings and emperors of our old picture-books1 who go to bed with their crowns on4 ,what a difference from the ,greeks and those of the moderns who have been inspired with their spirit in poetry6 ,never does the ,greek poet blush at nature2 he leaves to the sensuous all its rights1 and yet he is quite certain never to be subdued by it4 ,he has too much depth and too much rectitude in his mind not to distinguish the accidental1 which is the principal point with false taste1 from the really necessary2 but all that is not humanity itself is accidental in man4 ,the ,greek artist who has to represent a ,laocoon1 a ,niobe1 and a ,philoctetes1 does not care for the king1 the princess1 or the king's son2 he keeps to the man4 ,accordingly the skilful statuary sets aside the drapery1 and shows us nude figures1 though he knows quite well it is not so in real life4 ,this is because drapery is to him an accidental thing1 and because the necessary ought never to be sacrificed to the accidental4 ,it is also because1 if decency and physical necessities have their laws1 these laws are not those of art4 ,the statuary ought to show us1 and wishes to show us1 the man himself2 drapery conceals him1 therefore he sets that aside1 and with reason4 ,the ,greek sculptor rejects drapery as a useless and embarrassing load1 to make way for human nature2 and in like manner the ,greek poet emancipates the human personages he brings forward from the equally useless constraint of decorum1 and all those icy laws of propriety1 which put nothing but what is artificial in man1 and conceal nature in it4 ,take ,homer and the tragedians2 suffering nature speaks the language of truth and ingenuousness in their pages1 and in a way to penetrate to the depths of our hearts4 ,all the passions play their part freely1 nor do the rules of propriety compress any feeling with the ,greeks4 ,the heroes are just as much under the influence of suffering as other men1 and what makes them heroes is the very fact that they feel suffering strongly and deeply1 without suffering overcoming them4 ,they love life as ardently as others2 but they are not so ruled by this feeling as to be unable to give up life when the duties of honor or humanity call on them to do so4 ,philoctetes filled the ,greek stage with his lamentations2 ,hercules himself1 when in fury1 does not keep under his grief4 ,iphigenia1 on the point of being sacrificed1 confesses with a touching ingenuousness that she grieves to part with the light of the sun4 ,never does the ,greek place his glory in being insensible or indifferent to suffering1 but rather in supporting it1 though feeling it in its fulness4 ,the very gods of the ,greeks must pay their tribute to nature1 when the poet wishes to make them approximate to humanity4 ,mars1 when wounded1 roars like ten thousand men together1 and ,venus1 scratched by an iron lance1 mounts again to ,olympus1 weeping1 and cursing all battles4 ,this lively susceptibility on the score of suffering1 this warm1 ingenuous nature1 showing itself uncovered and in all truth in the monuments of ,greek art1 and filling us with such deep and lively emotions--this is a model presented for the imitation of all artists2 it is a law which ,greek genius has laid down for the fine arts4 ,it is always and eternally nature which has the first rights over man2 she ought never to be fettered1 because man1 before being anything else1 is a sensuous creature4 ,after the rights of nature come those of reason1 because man is a rational1 sensuous being1 a moral person1 and because it is a duty for this person not to let himself be ruled by nature1 but to rule her4 ,it is only after satisfaction has been given in the first place to nature1 and after reason in the second place has made its rights acknowledged1 that it is permitted for decorum in the third place to make good its claims1 to impose on man1 in the expression of his moral feelings and of his sensations1 considerations towards society1 and to show in it the social being1 the civilized man4 ,the first law of the tragic art was to represent suffering nature4 ,the second law is to represent the resistance of morality opposed to suffering4 ,affection1 as affection1 is an unimportant thing2 and the portraiture of affection1 considered in itself1 would be without any aesthetic value2 for1 ,i repeat it1 nothing that only interests sensuous nature is worthy of being represented by art4 ,thus not only the affections that do nothing but enervate and soften man1 but in general all affections1 even those that are exalted1 ecstatic1 whatever may be their nature1 are beneath the dignity of tragic art4 ,the soft emotions1 only producing tenderness1 are of the nature of the agreeable1 with which the fine arts are not concerned4 ,they only caress the senses1 while relaxing and creating languidness1 and only relate to external nature1 not at all to the inner nature of man4 ,a good number of our romances and of our tragedies1 particularly those that bear the name of dramas--a sort of compromise between tragedy and comedy--a good number also of those highly-appreciated family portraits1 belong to this class4 ,the only effect of these works is to empty the lachrymal duct1 and soothe the overflowing feelings2 but the mind comes back from them empty1 and the moral being1 the noblest part of our nature1 gathers no new strength whatever from them4 ,it is thus1 says ,kant1 that many persons feel themselves edified by a sermon that has nothing edifying in it4 ,it seems also that modern music only aims at interesting the sensuous1 and in this it flatters the taste of the day1 which seeks to be agreeably tickled1 but not to be startled1 nor strongly moved and elevated4 ,accordingly we see music prefer all that is tender2 and whatever be the noise in a concert-room1 silence is immediately restored1 and every one is all ears directly a sentimental passage is performed4 ,then an expression of sensibility common to animalism shows itself commonly on all faces2 the eyes are swimming with intoxication1 the open mouth is all desire1 a voluptuous trembling takes hold of the entire body1 the breath is quick and full1 in short1 all the symptoms of intoxication appear4 ,this is an evident proof that the senses swim in delight1 but that the mind or the principle of freedom in man has become a prey to the violence of the sensuous impression4 ,real taste1 that of noble and manly minds1 rejects all these emotions as unworthy of art1 because they only please the senses1 with which art has nothing in common4 ,but1 on the other hand1 real taste excludes all extreme affections1 which only put sensuousness to the torture1 without giving the mind any compensation4 ,these affections oppress moral liberty by pain1 as the others by voluptuousness2 consequently they can excite aversion1 and not the emotion that would alone be worthy of art4 ,art ought to charm the mind and give satisfaction to the feeling of moral freedom4 ,this man who is a prey to his pain is to me simply a tortured animate being1 and not a man tried by suffering4 ,for a moral resistance to painful affections is already required of man--a resistance which can alone allow the principle of moral freedom1 the intelligence1 to make itself known in it4 ,if it is so1 the poets and the artists are poor adepts in their art when they seek to reach the pathetic only by the sensuous force of affection and by representing suffering in the most vivid manner4 ,they forget that suffering in itself can never be the last end of imitation1 nor the immediate source of the pleasure we experience in tragedy4 ,the pathetic only has aesthetic value in as far as it is sublime4 ,now1 effects that only allow us to infer a purely sensuous cause1 and that are founded only on the affection experienced by the faculty of sense1 are never sublime1 whatever energy they may display1 for everything sublime proceeds exclusively from the reason4 ,i imply by passion the affections of pleasure as well as the painful affections1 and to represent passion only1 without coupling with it the expression of the super-sensuous faculty which resists it1 is to fall into what is properly called vulgarity2 and the opposite is called nobility4 ,vulgarity and nobility are two ideas which1 wherever they are applied1 have more or less relation with the super-sensuous share a man takes in a work4 ,there is nothing noble but what has its source in the reason2 all that issues from sensuousness alone is vulgar or common4 ,we say of a man that he acts in a vulgar manner when he is satisfied with obeying the suggestions of his sensuous instinct2 that he acts suitably when he only obeys his instinct in conformity with the laws2 that he acts nobly when he obeys reason only1 without having regard to his instincts4 ,we say of a physiognomy that it is common when it does not show any trace of the spiritual man1 the intelligence2 we say it has expression when it is the mind which has determined its features3 and that it is noble when a pure spirit has determined them4 ,if an architectural work is in question we qualify it as common if it aims at nothing but a physical end2 we name it noble if1 independently of all physical aim1 we find in it at the same time the expression of a conception4 ,accordingly1 ,i repeat it1 correct taste disallows all painting of the affections1 however energetic1 which rests satisfied with expressing physical suffering and the physical resistance opposed to it by the subject1 without making visible at the same time the superior principle of the nature of man1 the presence of a super-sensuous faculty4 ,it does this in virtue of the principle developed farther back1 namely1 that it is not suffering in itself1 but only the resistance opposed to suffering1 that is pathetic and deserving of being represented4 ,it is for this reason that all the absolutely extreme degrees of the affections are forbidden to the artist as well as to the poet4 ,all of these1 in fact1 oppress the force that resists from within or rather1 all betray of themselves1 and without any necessity of other symptoms1 the oppression of this force1 because no affection can reach this last degree of intensity as long as the intelligence in man makes any resistance4 ,then another question presents itself4 ,how is this principle of resistance1 this super-sensuous force1 manifested in the phenomenon of the affections8 ,only in one way1 by mastering or1 more commonly1 by combating affection4 ,i say affection1 for sensuousness can also fight1 but this combat of sensuousness is not carried on with the affection1 but with the cause that produces it2 a contest which has no moral character1 but is all physical1 the same combat that the earthworm1 trodden under foot1 and the wounded bull engage in1 without thereby exciting the pathetic4 ,when suffering man seeks to give an expression to his feelings1 to remove his enemy1 to shelter the suffering limb1 he does all this in common with the animals1 and instinct alone takes the initiative here1 without the will being applied to4 ,therefore1 this is not an act that emanates from the man himself1 nor does it show him as an intelligence4 ,sensuous nature will always fight the enemy that makes it suffer1 but it will never fight against itself4 ,on the other hand1 the contest with affection is a contest with sensuousness1 and consequently presupposes something that is distinct from sensuous nature4 ,man can defend himself with the help of common sense and his muscular strength against the object that makes him suffer2 against suffering itself he has no other arms than those of reason4 ,these ideas must present themselves to the eye in the portraiture of the affections1 or be awakened by this portraiture in order that the pathetic may exist4 ,but it is impossible to represent ideas1 in the proper sense of the word1 and positively1 as nothing corresponds to pure ideas in the world of sense4 ,but they can be always represented negatively and in an indirect way if the sensuous phenomenon by which they are manifested has some character of which you would seek in vain the conditions in physical nature4 ,all phenomena of which the ultimate principle cannot be derived from the world of sense are an indirect representation of the upper-sensuous element4 ,and how does one succeed in representing something that is above nature without having recourse to supernatural means8 ,what can this phenomenon be which is accomplished by natural forces--otherwise it would not be a phenomenon--and yet which cannot be derived from physical causes without a contradiction8 ,this is the problem2 how can the artist solve it8 ,it must be remembered that the phenomena observable in a man in a state of passion are of two kinds4 ,they are either phenomena connected simply with animal nature1 and which1 therefore1 only obey the physical law1 without the will being able to master them1 or the independent force in him being able to exercise an immediate influence over them4 ,it is the instinct which immediately produces these phenomena1 and they obey blindly the laws of instinct4 ,to this kind belong1 for example1 the organs of the circulation of the blood1 of respiration1 and all the surface of the skin4 ,but1 moreover1 the other organs1 and those subject to the will1 do not always await the decision of the will2 and often instinct itself sets them immediately in play1 especially when the physical state is threatened with pain or with danger4 ,thus1 the movements of my arm depend1 it is true1 on my will2 but if ,i place my hand1 without knowing it1 on a burning body1 the movement by which ,i draw it back is certainly not a voluntary act1 but a purely instinctive phenomenon4 ,nay more1 speech is assuredly subject to the empire of the will1 and yet instinct can also dispose of this organ according to its whim1 and even of this and of the mind1 without consulting beforehand the will1 directly a sharp pain1 or even an energetic affection1 takes us by surprise4 ,take the most impassible stoic and make him see suddenly something very wonderful1 or a terrible and unexpected object4 ,fancy him1 for example1 present when a man slips and falls to the bottom of an abyss4 ,a shout1 a resounding cry1 and not only inarticulate1 but a distinct word will escape his lips1 and nature will have acted in him before the will3 a certain proof that there are in man phenomena which cannot be referred to his person as an intelligence1 but only to his instinct as a natural force4 ,but there is also in man a second order of phenomena1 which are subject to the influence and empire of the will1 or which may be considered at all events as being of such a kind that will might always have prevented them1 consequently phenomena for which the person and not instinct is responsible4 ,it is the office of instinct to watch with a blind zeal over the interests of the senses2 but it is the office of the person to hold instinct in proper bounds1 out of respect for the moral law4 ,instinct in itself does not hold account of any law2 but the person ought to watch that instinct may not infringe in any way on the decrees of reason4 ,it is therefore evident that it is not for instinct alone to determine unconditionally all the phenomena that take place in man in the state of affection1 and that on the contrary the will of man can place limits to instinct4 ,when instinct only determines all phenomena in man1 there is nothing more that can recall the person2 there is only a physical creature before you1 and consequently an animal2 for every physical creature subject to the sway of instinct is nothing else4 ,therefore1 if you wish to represent the person itself1 you must propose to yourself in man certain phenomena that have been determined in opposition to instinct1 or at least that have not been determined by instinct4 ,that they have not been determined by instinct is sufficient to refer them to a higher source1 the moment we see that instinct would no doubt have determined them in another way if its force had not been broken by some obstacle4 ,we are now in a position to point out in what way the super-sensuous element1 the moral and independent force of man1 his ,ego in short1 can be represented in the phenomena of the affections4 ,i understand that this is possible if the parts which only obey physical nature1 those where will either disposes nothing at all1 or only under certain circumstances1 betray the presence of suffering2 and if those1 on the contrary1 that escape the blind sway of instinct1 that only obey physical nature1 show no trace1 or only a very feeble trace1 of suffering1 and consequently appear to have a certain degree of freedom4 ,now this want of harmony between the features imprinted on animal nature in virtue of the laws of physical necessity1 and those determined with the spiritual and independent faculty of man1 is precisely the point by which that super-sensuous principle is discovered in man capable of placing limits to the effects produced by physical nature1 and therefore distinct from the latter4 ,the purely animal part of man obeys the physical law1 and consequently may show itself oppressed by the affection4 ,it is1 therefore1 in this part that all the strength of passion shows itself1 and it answers in some degree as a measure to estimate the resistance-- that is to say1 of the energy of the moral faculty in man--which can only be judged according to the force of the attack4 ,thus in proportion as the affection manifests itself with decision and violence in the field of animal nature1 without being able to exercise the same power in the field of human nature1 so in proportion the latter makes itself manifestly known--in the same proportion the moral independence of man shows itself gloriously3 the portraiture becomes pathetic and the pathetic sublime4 ,the statues of the ancients make this principle of aesthetics sensible to us2 but it is difficult to reduce to conceptions and express in words what the very inspection of ancient statues makes the senses feel in so lively a manner4 ,the group of ,laocoon and his children can give to a great extent the measure of what the plastic art of the ancients was capable of producing in the matter of pathos4 ,winckelmann1 in his ,history of ,art11 says3 ,laocoon is nature seized in the highest degree of suffering1 under the features of a man who seeks to gather up against pain all the strength of which the mind is conscious4 ,hence while his suffering swells his muscles and stretches his nerves1 the mind1 armed with an interior force shows itself on his contracted brow1 and the breast rises1 because the breathing is broken1 and because there is an internal struggle to keep in the expression of pain1 and press it back into his heart4 ,the sigh of anguish he wishes to keep in1 his very breath which he smothers1 exhaust the lower part of his trunk1 and works into his flanks1 which make us judge in some degree of the palpitations of his visceral organs4 ,but his own suffering appears to occasion less anguish than the pain of his children1 who turn their faces toward their father1 and implore him1 crying for help4 ,his father's heart shows itself in his eyes1 full of sadness1 and where pity seems to swim in a troubled cloud4 ,his face expresses lament1 but he does not cry2 his eyes are turned to heaven1 and implore help from on high4 ,his mouth also marks a supreme sadness1 which depresses the lower lip and seems to weigh upon it1 while the upper lip1 contracted from the top to the bottom1 expresses at once both physical suffering and that of the soul4 ,under the mouth there is an expression of indignation that seems to protest against an undeserved suffering1 and is revealed in the nostrils1 which swell out and enlarge and draw upwards4 ,under the forehead1 the struggle between pain and moral strength1 united as it were in a single point1 is represented with great truth1 for1 while pain contracts and raises the eyebrows1 the effort opposed to it by the will draws down towards the upper eyelid all the muscles above it1 so that the eyelid is almost covered by them4 ,the artist1 not being able to embellish nature1 has sought at least to develop its means1 to increase its effect and power4 ,where is the greatest amount of pain is also the highest beauty4 ,the left side1 which the serpent besets with his furious bites1 and where he instils his poison1 is that which appears to suffer the most intensely1 because sensation is there nearest to the heart4 ,the legs strive to raise themselves as if to shun the evil2 the whole body is nothing but movement1 and even the traces of the chisel contribute to the illusion2 we seem to see the shuddering and icy-cold skin4 ,how great is the truth and acuteness of this analysis6 ,in what a superior style is this struggle between spirit and the suffering of nature developed6 ,how correctly the author has seized each of the phenomena in which the animal element and the human element manifest themselves1 the constraint of nature and the independence of reason6 ,it is well known that ,virgil has described this same scene in his ,aeneid1 but it did not enter into the plan of the epic poet to pause as the sculptor did1 and describe the moral nature of ,laocoon2 for this recital is in ,virgil only an episode2 and the object he proposes is sufficiently attained by the simple description of the physical phenomenon1 without the necessity on his part of looking into the soul of the unhappy sufferer1 as his aim is less to inspire us with pity than to fill us with terror4 ,the duty of the poet from this point of view was purely negative2 ,i mean he had only to avoid carrying the picture of physical suffering to such a degree that all expression of human dignity or of moral resistance would cease1 for if he had done this indignation and disgust would certainly be felt4 ,he1 therefore1 preferred to confine himself to the representation of the least of the suffering1 and he found it advisable to dwell at length on the formidable nature of the two serpents1 and on the rage with which they attack their victims1 rather than on the feelings of ,laocoon4 ,he only skims over those feelings1 because his first object was to represent a chastisement sent by the gods1 and to produce an impression of terror that nothing could diminish4 ,if he had1 on the contrary1 detained our looks on the person of ,laocoon himself with as much perseverance as the statuary1 instead of on the chastizing deity1 the suffering man would have become the hero of the scene1 and the episode would have lost its propriety in connection with the whole piece4 ,the narrative of ,virgil is well known through the excellent commentary of ,lessing4 ,but ,lessing only proposed to make evident by this example the limits that separate partial description from painting1 and not to make the notion of the pathetic issue from it4 ,yet the passage of ,virgil does not appear to me less valuable for this latter object1 and ,i crave permission to bring it forward again under this point of view3-- ,ecce autem gemini ,tenedo tranquilla per alta 7,horresco referens7 immensis orbibus angues ,incumbunt pelago1 pariterque ad litora tendunt2 ,pectora quorum inter fluctus arrecta jubaeque ,sanguineae exsuperant undas2 pars caetera pontum ,pone legit1 sinuatque immensa volumine terga4 ,fit sonitus spumante salo1 jamque arva tenebant1 ,ardentes oculos suffecti sanguine et igni1 ,sibila lambebant linguis vibrantibus ora6 ,aeneid1 ii4 #bjc-baa4 ,we find here realized the first of the three conditions of the sublime that have been mentioned further back1--a very powerful natural force1 armed for destruction1 and ridiculing all resistance4 ,but that this strong element may at the same time be terrible1 and thereby sublime1 two distinct operations of the mind are wanted2 ,i mean two representations that we produce in ourselves by our own activity4 ,first1 we recognize this irresistible natural force as terrible by comparing it with the weakness of the faculty of resistance that the physical man can oppose to it2 and1 secondly1 it is by referring it to our will1 and recalling to our consciousness that the will is absolutely independent of all influence of physical nature1 that this force becomes to us a sublime object4 ,but it is we ourselves who represent these two relations2 the poet has only given us an object armed with a great force seeking to manifest itself4 ,if this object makes us tremble1 it is only because we in thought suppose ourselves1 or some one like us1 engaged with this force4 ,and if trembling in this way1 we experience the feeling of the sublime1 it is because our consciousness tells us that1 if we are the victims of this force1 we should have nothing to fear1 from the freedom of our ,ego1 for the autonomy of the determinations of our will4 ,in short the description up to here is sublime1 but quite a contemplative1 intuitive sublimity3-- ,diffugimus visu exsangues1 illi agmine certo ,laocoonta petunt 4 4 4--,aeneid1 ii4 #bab-bac4 ,here the force is presented to us as terrible also2 and contemplative sublimity passes into the pathetic4 ,we see that force enter really into strife with man's impotence4 ,whether it concerns ,laocoon or ourselves is only a question of degree4 ,the instinct of sympathy excites and frightens in us the instinct of preservation3 there are the monsters1 they are darting--on ourselves2 there is no more safety1 flight is vain4 ,it is no more in our power to measure this force with ours1 and to refer it or not to our own existence4 ,this happens without our co-operation1 and is given us by the object itself4 ,accordingly our fear has not1 as in the preceding moment1 a purely subjective ground1 residing in our soul2 it has an objective ground1 residing in the object4 ,for1 even if we recognize in this entire scene a simple fiction of the imagination1 we nevertheless distinguish in this fiction a conception communicated to us from without1 from another conception that we produce spontaneously in ourselves4 ,thus the mind loses a part of her freedom1 inasmuch as she receives now from without that which she produced before her own activity4 ,the idea of danger puts on an appearance of objective reality1 and affection becomes now a serious affair4 ,if we were only sensuous creatures1 obeying no other instinct than that of self-preservation1 we should stop here1 and we should remain in a state of mere and pure affection4 ,but there is something in us which takes no part in the affections of sensuous nature1 and whose activity is not directed according to physical conditions4 ,according1 then1 as this independently acting principle 7the disposition1 the moral faculty7 has become to a degree developed in the soul1 there is left more or less space for passive nature1 and there remains more or less of the independent principle in the affection4 ,in the truly moral soul the terrible trial 7of the imagination7 passes quickly and readily into the sublime4 ,in proportion as imagination loses its liberty1 reason makes its own prevail1 and the soul ceases not to enlarge within when it thus finds outward limits4 ,driven from all the intrenchments which would give physical protection to sensuous creatures1 we seek refuge in the stronghold of our moral liberty1 and we arrive by that means at an absolute and unlimited safety1 at the very moment when we seem to be deprived in the world of phenomena of a relative and precarious rampart4 ,but precisely because it was necessary to have arrived at the physical oppression before having recourse to the assistance of our moral nature1 we can only buy this high sentiment of our liberty through suffering4 ,an ordinary soul confines itself entirely to this suffering1 and never comprehends in the sublime or the pathetic anything beyond the terrible4 ,an independent soul1 on the contrary1 precisely seizes this occasion to rise to the feeling of his moral force1 in all that is most magnificent in this force1 and from every terrible object knows how to draw out the sublime4 ,the moral man 7the father7 see ,aeneid1 ii4 #bac-bae is here attacked before the physical man1 and that has a grand effect4 ,all the affections become more aesthetic when we receive them second-hand2 there is no stronger sympathy than that we feel for sympathy4 ,the moment see ,aeneid1 ii4 #baf-bag had arrived when the hero himself had to be recommended to our respect as a moral personage1 and the poet seized upon that moment4 ,we already know by his description all the force1 all the rage of the two monsters who menace ,laocoon1 and we know how all resistance would be in vain4 ,if ,laocoon were only a common man he would better understand his own interests1 and1 like the rest of the ,trojans1 he would find safety in rapid flight4 ,but there is a heart in that breast2 the danger to his children holds him back1 and decides him to meet his fate4 ,this trait alone renders him worthy of our pity4 ,at whatever moment the serpents had assailed him1 we should have always been touched and troubled4 ,but because it happens just at the moment when as father he shows himself so worthy of respect1 his fate appears to us as the result of having fulfilled his duty as parent1 of his tender disquietude for his children4 ,it is this which calls forth our sympathy in the highest degree4 ,it appears1 in fact1 as if he deliberately devoted himself to destruction1 and his death becomes an act of the will4 ,thus there are two conditions in every kind of the pathetic3 #ast4 ,suffering1 to interest our sensuous nature2 #b;d4 ,moral liberty1 to interest our spiritual nature4 ,all portraiture in which the expression of suffering nature is wanting remains without aesthetic action1 and our heart is untouched4 ,all portraiture in which the expression of moral aptitude is wanting1 even did it possess all the sensuous force possible1 could not attain to the pathetic1 and would infallibly revolt our feelings4 ,throughout moral liberty we require the human being who suffers2 throughout all the sufferings of human nature we always desire to perceive the independent spirit1 or the capacity for independence4 ,but the independence of the spiritual being in the state of suffering can manifest itself in two ways4 ,either negatively1 when the moral man does not receive the law from the physical man1 and his state exercises no influence over his manner of feeling2 or positively1 when the moral man is a ruler over the physical being1 and his manner of feeling exercises an influence upon his state4 ,in the first case1 it is the sublime of disposition2 in the second1 it is the sublime of action4 ,the sublime of disposition is seen in all character independent of the accidents of fate4 ,a noble heart struggling against adversity1 says ,seneca1 is a spectacle full of attraction even for the gods4 ,such for example is that which the ,roman ,senate offered after the disaster of ,cannae4 ,lucifer even1 in ,milton1 when for the first time he contemplates hell--which is to be his future abode--penetrates us with a sentiment of admiration by the force of soul he displays3-- ,hail1 horrors1 hail4 ,infernal world1 and thou1 profoundest ,hell2 ,receive thy new possessor6--one who brings ,a mind not to be changed by place or time2 ,the mind is its own place1 and in itself ,can make a ,heaven of ,hell4 4 4 4 ,here at least ,we shall be free1 etc4 ,the reply of ,medea in the tragedy belongs also to this order of the sublime4 ,the sublime of disposition makes itself seen1 it is visible to the spectator1 because it rests upon co-existence1 the simultaneous2 the sublime action1 on the contrary1 is conceived only by the thought1 because the impression and the act are successive1 and the intervention of the mind is necessary to infer from a free determination the idea of previous suffering4 ,it follows that the first alone can be expressed by the plastic arts1 because these arts give but that which is simultaneous2 but the poet can extend his domain over one and the other4 ,even more2 when the plastic art has to represent a sublime action1 it must necessarily bring it back to sublimity4 ,in order that the sublimity of action should take place1 not only must the suffering of man have no influence upon the moral constitution1 but rather the opposite must be the case4 ,the affection is the work of his moral character4 ,this can happen in two ways3 either mediately1 or according to the law of liberty1 when out of respect for such and such a duty it decides from free choice to suffer--in this case1 the idea of duty determines as a motive1 and its suffering is a voluntary act--or immediately1 and according to the necessity of nature1 when he expiates by a moral suffering the violation of duty2 in this second case1 the idea of duty determines him as a force1 and his suffering is no longer an effect4 ,regulus offers us an example of the first kind1 when1 to keep his word1 he gives himself up to the vengeance of the ,carthaginians2 and he would serve as an example of the second class1 if1 having betrayed his trust1 the consciousness of this crime would have made him miserable4 ,in both cases suffering has a moral course1 but with this difference1 that on the one part ,regulus shows us its moral character1 and that1 on the other1 he only shows us that he was made to have such a character4 ,in the first case he is in our eyes a morally great person2 in the second he is only aesthetically great4 ,this last distinction is important for the tragic art2 it consequently deserves to be examined more closely4 ,man is already a sublime object1 but only in the aesthetic sense1 when the state in which he is gives us an idea of his human destination1 even though we might not find this destination realized in his person4 ,he only becomes sublime to us in a moral point of view1 when he acts1 moreover1 as a person1 in a manner conformable with this destination2 if our respect bears not only on his moral faculty1 but on the use he makes of this faculty2 if dignity1 in his case1 is due1 not only to his moral aptitude2 but to the real morality of his conduct4 ,it is quite a different thing to direct our judgment and attention to the moral faculty generally1 and to the possibility of a will absolutely free1 and to be directing it to the use of this faculty1 and to the reality of this absolute freedom of willing4 ,it is1 ,i repeat1 quite a different thing2 and this difference is connected not only with the objects to which we may have to direct our judgment1 but to the very criterion of our judgment4 ,the same object can displease us if we appreciate it in a moral point of view1 and be very attractive to us in the aesthetical point of view4 ,but even if the moral judgment and the aesthetical judgment were both satisfied1 this object would produce this effect on one and the other in quite a different way4 ,it is not morally satisfactory because it has an aesthetical value1 nor has it an aesthetical value because it satisfies us morally4 ,let us take1 as example1 ,leonidas and his devotion at ,thermopylae4 ,judged from the moral point of view1 this action represents to me the moral law carried out notwithstanding all the repugnance of instinct4 ,judged from the aesthetic point of view1 it gives me the idea of the moral faculty1 independent of every constraint of instinct4 ,the act of ,leonidas satisfies the moral sense1 the reason2 it enraptures the aesthetical sense1 the imagination4 ,whence comes this difference in the feelings in connection with the same object8 ,i account for it thus3-- ,in the same way that our being consists of two principles and natures1 so also and consequently our feelings are divided into two kinds1 entirely different4 ,as reasonable beings we experience a feeling of approbation or of disapprobation2 as sensuous creatures we experience pleasure or displeasure4 ,the two feelings1 approbation and pleasure1 repose on satisfaction3 one on a satisfaction given to a requirement of reason-- reason has only requirements1 and not wants4 ,the other depends on a satisfaction given to a sensuous want--sense only knows of wants1 and cannot prescribe anything4 ,these two terms--requirements of reason1 wants of the senses--are mutually related1 as absolute necessity and the necessity of nature4 ,accordingly1 both are included in the idea of necessity1 but with this difference1 that the necessity of reason is unconditional1 and the necessity of sense only takes place under conditions4 ,but1 for both1 satisfaction is a purely contingent thing4 ,accordingly every feeling1 whether of pleasure or approbation1 rests definitively on an agreement between the contingent and the necessary4 ,if the necessary has thus an imperative character1 the feeling experienced will be that of approbation4 ,if necessity has the character of a want1 the feeling experienced will be that of pleasure1 and both will be strong in proportion as the satisfaction will be contingent4 ,now1 underlying every moral judgment there is a requirement of reason which requires us to act conformably with the moral law1 and it is an absolute necessity that we should wish what is good4 ,but as the will is free1 it is physically an accidental thing that we should do in fact what is good4 ,if we actually do it1 this agreement between the contingent in the use of free will and the imperative demand of reason gives rise to our assent or approbation1 which will be greater in proportion as the resistance of the inclinations made this use that we make of our free will more accidental and more doubtful4 ,every aesthetic judgment1 on the contrary1 refers the object to the necessity which cannot help willing imperatively1 but only desires that there should be an agreement between the accidental and its own interest4 ,now what is the interest of imagination8 ,it is to emancipate itself from all laws1 and to play its part freely4 ,the obligation imposed on the will by the moral law1 which prescribes its object in the strictest manner1 is by no means favorable to this need of independence4 ,and as the moral obligation of the will is the object of the moral judgment1 it is clear that in this mode of judging1 the imagination could not find its interest4 ,but a moral obligation imposed on the will cannot be conceived1 except by supposing this same will absolutely independent of the moral instincts and from their constraint4 ,accordingly the possibility of the moral act requires liberty1 and therefore agrees here in the most perfect manner with the interest of imagination4 ,but as imagination1 through the medium of its wants1 cannot give orders to the will of the individual1 as reason does by its imperative character1 it follows that the faculty of freedom1 in relation to imagination1 is something accidental1 and consequently that the agreement between the accidental and the necessary 7conditionally necessary7 must excite pleasure4 ,therefore1 if we bring to bear a moral judgment on this act of ,leonidas1 we shall consider it from a point of view where its accidental character strikes the eye less than its necessary side4 ,if1 on the other hand1 we apply the aesthetical judgment to it1 this is another point of view1 where its character of necessity strikes us less forcibly than its accidental character4 ,it is a duty for every will to act thus1 directly it is a free will2 but the fact that there is a free will that makes this act possible is a favor of nature in regard to this faculty1 to which freedom is a necessity4 ,thus an act of virtue judged by the moral sense--by reason--will give us as its only satisfaction the feeling of approbation1 because reason can never find more1 and seldom finds as much as it requires4 ,this same act1 judged1 on the contrary1 by the aesthetic sense--by imagination--will give us a positive pleasure1 because the imagination1 never requiring the end to agree with the demand1 must be surprised1 enraptured1 at the real satisfaction of this demand as at a happy chance4 ,our reason will merely approve1 and only approve1 of ,leonidas actually taking this heroic resolution2 but that he could take this resolution is what delights and enraptures us4 ,this distinction between the two sorts of judgments becomes more evident still1 if we take an example where the moral sense and the aesthetic sense pronounce a different verdict4 ,suppose we take the act of ,perigrinus ,proteus burning himself at ,olympia4 ,judging this act morally1 ,i cannot give it my approbation1 inasmuch as ,i see it determined by impure motives1 to which ,proteus sacrifices the duty of respecting his own existence4 ,but in the aesthetic judgment this same act delights me2 it delights me precisely because it testifies to a power of will capable of resisting even the most potent of instincts1 that of self-preservation4 ,was it a moral feeling1 or only a more powerful sensuous attraction1 that silenced the instinct of self-preservation in this enthusiast4 ,it matters little1 when ,i appreciate the act from an aesthetic point of view4 ,i then drop the individual1 ,i take away the relation of his will to the law that ought to govern him2 ,i think of human will in general1 considered as a common faculty of the race1 and ,i regard it in connection with all the forces of nature4 ,we have seen that in a moral point of view1 the preservation of our being seemed to us a duty1 and therefore we were offended at seeing ,proteus violate this duty4 ,in an aesthetic point of view the self-preservation only appears as an interest1 and therefore the sacrifice of this interest pleases us4 ,thus the operation that we perform in the judgments of the second kind is precisely the inverse of that which we perform in those of the first4 ,in the former we oppose the individual1 a sensuous and limited being1 and his personal will1 which can be effected pathologically1 to the absolute law of the will in general1 and of unconditional duty which binds every spiritual being2 in the second case1 on the contrary1 we oppose the faculty of willing1 absolute volition1 and the spiritual force as an infinite thing1 to the solicitations of nature and the impediments of sense4 ,this is the reason why the aesthetical judgment leaves us free1 and delights and enraptures us4 ,it is because the mere conception of this faculty of willing in an absolute manner1 the mere idea of this moral aptitude1 gives us in itself a consciousness of a manifest advantage over the sensuous4 ,it is because the mere possibility of emancipating ourselves from the impediments of nature is in itself a satisfaction that flatters our thirst for freedom4 ,this is the reason why moral judgment1 on the contrary1 makes us experience a feeling of constraint that humbles us4 ,it is because in connection with each voluntary act we appreciate in this manner1 we feel1 as regards the absolute law that ought to rule the will in general1 in a position of inferiority more or less decided1 and because the constraint of the will thus limited to a single determination1 which duty requires of it at all costs1 contradicts the instinct of freedom which is the property of imagination4 ,in the former case we soared from the real to the possible1 and from the individual to the species2 in the latter1 on the contrary1 we descend from the possible to the real1 and we shut up the species in the narrow limits of the individual4 ,we cannot therefore be surprised if the aesthetical judgment enlarges the heart1 while the moral judgment constrains and straitens it4 ,it results1 therefore1 from all that which precedes1 that the moral judgment and the aesthetic1 far from mutually corroborating each other1 impede and hinder each other1 because they impress on the soul two directions entirely opposite4 ,in fact1 this observance of rule which reason requires of us as moral judge is incompatible with the independence which the imagination calls for as aesthetic judge4 ,it follows that an object will have so much the less aesthetic value the more it has the character of a moral object1 and if the poet were obliged notwithstanding that to choose it1 he would do well in treating of it1 not to call the attention of our reason to the rule of the will1 but that of our imagination to the power of the will4 ,in his own interest it is necessary for the poet to enter on this path1 for with our liberty his empire finishes4 ,we belong to him only inasmuch as we look beyond ourselves2 we escape from him the moment we re-enter into our innermost selves1 and that is what infallibly takes place the moment an object ceases to be a phenomenon in our consideration1 and takes the character of a law which judges us4 ,even in the manifestation of the most sublime virtue1 the poet can only employ for his own views that which in those acts belongs to force4 ,as to the direction of the force1 he has no reason to be anxious4 ,the poet1 even when he places before our eyes the most perfect models of morality1 has not1 and ought not to have1 any other end than that of rejoicing our soul by the contemplation of this spectacle4 ,moreover1 nothing can rejoice our soul except that which improves our personality1 and nothing can give us a spiritual joy except that which elevates the spiritual faculty4 ,but in what way can the morality of another improve our own personality1 and raise our spiritual force8 ,that this other one accomplishes really his duty results from an accidental use which he makes of his liberty1 and which for that very reason can prove nothing to us4 ,we only have in common with him the faculty to conform ourselves equally to duty2 the moral power which he exhibits reminds us also of our own1 and that is why we then feel something which upraises our spiritual force4 ,thus it is only the idea of the possibility of an absolutely free will which makes the real exercise of this will in us charming to the aesthetic feeling4 ,we shall be still more convinced when we think how little the poetic force of impression which is awakened in us by an act or a moral character is dependent on their historic reality4 ,the pleasure which we take in considering an ideal character will in no way be lessened when we come to think that this character is nothing more than a poetic fiction2 for it is on the poetic truth1 and not on historic truth1 that every aesthetic impression of the feelings rest4 ,moreover1 poetic truth does not consist in that this or that thing has effectually taken place1 but in that it may have happened1 that is to say1 that the thing is in itself possible4 ,thus the aesthetic force is necessarily obliged to rest in the first place in the idea of possibility4 ,even in real subjects1 for which the actors are borrowed from history1 it is not the reality of the simple possibility of the fact1 but that which is guaranteed to us by its very reality which constitutes the poetic element4 ,that these personages have indeed existed1 and that these events have in truth taken place1 is a circumstance which can1 it is true1 in many cases add to our pleasure1 but that which it adds to it is like a foreign addition1 much rather unfavorable than advantageous to the poetical impression4 ,it was long thought that a great service was rendered to ,german poetry by recommending ,german poets to treat of national themes4 ,why1 it was asked1 did ,greek poetry have so much power over the mind8 ,because it brought forward national events and immortalized domestic exploits4 ,no doubt the poetry of the ancients may have been indebted to this circumstance for certain effects of which modern poetry cannot boast2 but do these effects belong to art and the poet8 ,it is small glory for the ,greek genius if it had only this accidental advantage over modern genius2 still more if it were necessary for the poets1 in order to gain this advantage1 to obtain it by this conformity of their invention with real history6 ,it is only a barbarous taste that requires this stimulant of a national interest to be captivated by beautiful things2 and it is only a scribbler who borrows from matter a force to which he despairs of giving a form4 ,poetry ought not to take its course through the frigid region of memory2 it ought never to convert learning into its interpreter1 nor private interest its advocate with the popular mind4 ,it ought to go straight to the heart1 because it has come from the heart2 and aim at the man in the citizen1 not the citizen in the man4 ,happily1 true genius does not make much account of all these counsels that people are so anxious to give her with better intentions than competence4 ,otherwise1 ,sulzer and his school might have made ,german poetry adopt a very equivocal style4 ,it is no doubt a very honorable aim in a poet to moralize the man1 and excite the patriotism of the citizen1 and the ,muses know better than any one how well the arts of the sublime and of the beautiful are adapted to exercise this influence4 ,but that which poetry obtains excellently by indirect means it would accomplish very badly as an immediate end4 ,poetry is not made to serve in man for the accomplishment of a particular matter1 nor could any instrument be selected less fitted to cause a particular object to succeed1 or to carry out special projects and details4 ,poetry acts on the whole of human nature1 and it is only by its general influence on the character of a man that it can influence particular acts4 ,poetry can be for man what love is for the hero4 ,it can neither counsel him1 nor strike for him1 nor do anything for him in short2 but it can form a hero in him1 call him to great deeds1 and arm him with a strength to be all that he ought to be4 ,thus the degree of aesthetical energy with which sublime feelings and sublime acts take possession of our souls1 does not rest at all on the interest of reason1 which requires every action to be really conformable with the idea of good4 ,but it rests on the interest of the imagination1 which requires conformity with good should be possible1 or1 in other terms1 that no feeling1 however strong1 should oppress the freedom of the soul4 ,now this possibility is found in every act that testifies with energy to liberty1 and to the force of the will2 and if the poet meets with an action of this kind1 it matters little where1 he has a subject suitable for his art4 ,to him1 and to the interest we have in him1 it is quite the same1 to take his hero in one class of characters or in another1 among the good or the wicked1 as it often requires as much strength of character to do evil conscientiously and persistently as to do good4 ,if a proof be required that in our aesthetic judgments we attend more to the force than to its direction1 to its freedom than to its lawfulness1 this is sufficient for our evidence4 ,we prefer to see force and freedom manifest themselves at the cost of moral regularity1 rather than regularity at the cost of freedom and strength4 ,for directly one of those cases offers itself1 in which the general law agrees with the instincts which by their strength threaten to carry away the will1 the aesthetic value of the character is increased1 if he be capable of resisting these instincts4 ,a vicious person begins to interest us as soon as he must risk his happiness and life to carry out his perverse designs2 on the contrary1 a virtuous person loses in proportion as he finds it useful to be virtuous4 ,vengeance1 for instance1 is certainly an ignoble and a vile affection1 but this does not prevent it from becoming aesthetical1 if to satisfy it we must endure painful sacrifice4 ,medea slaying her children aims at the heart of ,jason1 but at the same time she strikes a heavy blow at her own heart1 and her vengeance aesthetically becomes sublime directly we see in her a tender mother4 ,in this sense the aesthetic judgment has more of truth than is ordinarily believed4 ,the vices which show a great force of will evidently announce a greater aptitude for real moral liberty than do virtues which borrow support from inclination2 seeing that it only requires of the man who persistently does evil to gain a single victory over himself1 one simple upset of his maxims1 to gain ever after to the service of virtue his whole plan of life1 and all the force of will which he lavished on evil4 ,and why is it we receive with dislike medium characters1 whilst we at times follow with trembling admiration one which is altogether wicked8 ,it is evident1 that with regard to the former1 we renounce all hope1 we cannot even conceive the possibility of finding absolute liberty of the will2 whilst with the other1 on the contrary1 each time he displays his faculties1 we feel that one single act of the will would suffice to raise him up to the fullest height of human dignity4 ,thus1 in the aesthetic judgment1 that which excites our interest is not morality itself1 but liberty alone2 and moral purity can only please our imagination when it places in relief the forces of the will4 ,it is then manifestly to confound two very distinct orders of ideas1 to require in aesthetic things so exact a morality1 and1 in order to stretch the domain of reason1 to exclude the imagination from its own legitimate sphere4 ,either it would be necessary to subject it entirely1 then there would be an end to all aesthetic effect2 or it would share the realm of reason1 then morality would not gain much4 ,for if we pretend to pursue at the same time two different ends1 there would be risk of missing both one and the other4 ,the liberty of the imagination would be fettered by too great respect for the moral law2 and violence would be done to the character of necessity which is in the reason1 in missing the liberty which belongs to the imagination4 ,,on ,,grace ,,and ,,dignity4 ,the ,greek fable attributes to the goddess of beauty a wonderful girdle which has the quality of lending grace and of gaining hearts in all who wear it4 ,this same divinity is accompanied by the ,graces1 or goddesses of grace4 ,from this we see that the ,greeks distinguished from beauty grace and the divinities styled the ,graces1 as they expressed the ideas by proper attributes1 separable from the goddess of beauty4 ,all that is graceful is beautiful1 for the girdle of love winning attractions is the property of the goddess of ,cnidus2 but all beauty is not of necessity grace1 for ,venus1 even without this girdle1 does not cease to be what she is4 ,however1 according to this allegory1 the goddess of beauty is the only one who wears and who lends to others the girdle of attractions4 ,juno1 the powerful queen of ,olympus1 must begin by borrowing this girdle from ,venus1 when she seeks to charm ,jupiter on ,mount ,ida ,pope's ,iliad1 ,book ,,xiv4 v4 #bbj4 ,thus greatness1 even clothed with a certain degree of beauty1 which is by no means disputed in the spouse of ,jupiter1 is never sure of pleasing without the grace1 since the august queen of the gods1 to subdue the heart of her consort1 expects the victory not from her own charms but from the girdle of ,venus4 ,but we see1 moreover1 that the goddess of beauty can part with this girdle1 and grant it1 with its quality and effects1 to a being less endowed with beauty4 ,thus grace is not the exclusive privilege of the beautiful2 it can also be handed over1 but only by beauty1 to an object less beautiful1 or even to an object deprived of beauty4 ,if these same ,greeks saw a man gifted in other respects with all the advantages of mind1 but lacking grace1 they advised him to sacrifice to the ,graces4 ,if1 therefore1 they conceived these deities as forming an escort to the beauty of the other sex1 they also thought that they would be favorable to man1 and that to please he absolutely required their help4 ,but what then is grace1 if it be true that it prefers to unite with beauty1 yet not in an exclusive manner8 ,what is grace if it proceeds from beauty1 but yet produces the effects of beauty1 even when beauty is absent4 ,what is it1 if beauty can exist indeed without it1 and yet has no attraction except with it8 ,the delicate feeling of the ,greek people had marked at an early date this distinction between grace and beauty1 whereof the reason was not then able to give an account2 and1 seeking the means to express it1 it borrowed images from the imagination1 because the understanding could not offer notions to this end4 ,on this score1 the myth of the girdle deserves to fix the attention of the philosopher1 who1 however1 ought to be satisfied to seek ideas corresponding with these pictures when the pure instinctive feeling throws out its discoveries1 or1 in other words1 with explaining the hieroglyphs of sensation4 ,if we strip off its allegorical veil from this conception of the ,greeks1 the following appears the only meaning it admits4 ,grace is a kind of movable beauty1 ,i mean a beauty which does not belong essentially to its subject1 but which may be produced accidentally in it1 as it may also disappear from it4 ,it is in this that grace is distinguished from beauty properly so called1 or fixed beauty1 which is necessarily inherent in the subject itself4 ,venus can no doubt take off her girdle and give it up for the moment to ,juno1 but she could only give up her beauty with her very person4 ,venus1 without a girdle1 is no longer the charming ,venus1 without beauty she is no longer ,venus4 ,but this girdle as a symbol of movable beauty has this particular feature1 that the person adorned with it not only appears more graceful1 but actually becomes so4 ,the girdle communicates objectively this property of grace1 in this contrasting with other articles of dress1 which have only subjective effects1 and without modifying the person herself1 only modify the impression produced on the imagination of others4 ,such is the express meaning of the ,greek myth2 grace becomes the property of the person who puts on this girdle2 she does more than appear amiable1 it is so in fact4 ,no doubt it may be thought that a girdle1 which after all is only an outward1 artificial ornament1 does not prove a perfectly correct emblem to express grace as a personal quality4 ,but a personal quality that is conceived at the same time as separable from the subject1 could only be represented to the senses by an accidental ornament which can be detached from the person1 without the essence of the latter being affected by it4 ,thus the girdle of charms operates not by a natural effect 7for then it would not change anything in the person itself7 but by a magical effect2 that is to say1 its virtue extends beyond all natural conditions4 ,by this means1 which is nothing more1 ,i admit1 than an expedient1 it has been attempted to avoid the contradiction to which the mind1 as regards its representative faculty1 is unavoidably reduced1 every time it asks an expression from nature herself1 for an object foreign to nature and which belongs to the free field of the ideal4 ,if this magic girdle is the symbol of an objective property which can be separated from its subject without modifying in any degree its nature1 this myth can only express one thing--the beauty of movement1 because movement is the only modification that can affect an object without changing its identity4 ,the beauty of movement is an idea that satisfies the two conditions contained in the myth which now occupies us4 ,in the first place1 it is an objective beauty1 not entirely depending upon the impression that we receive from the object1 but belonging to the object itself4 ,in the second place1 this beauty has in itself something accidental1 and the object remains identical even when we conceive it to be deprived of this property4 ,the girdle of attractions does not lose its magic virtue in passing to an object of less beauty1 or even to that which is without beauty2 that is to say1 that a being less beautiful1 or even one which is not beautiful1 may also lay claim to the beauty of movement4 ,the myth tells us that grace is something accidental in the subject in which we suppose it to be4 ,it follows that we can attribute this property only to accidental movements4 ,in an ideal of beauty the necessary movements must be beautiful1 because inasmuch as necessary they form an integral part of its nature2 the idea of ,venus once given1 the idea of this beauty of necessary movements is that implicitly comprised in it2 but it is not the same with the beauty of accidental movements2 this is an extension of the former2 there can be a grace in the voice1 there is none in respiration4 ,but all this beauty in accidental movements--is it necessarily grace8 ,it is scarcely necessary to notice that the ,greek fable attributes grace exclusively to humanity4 ,it goes still further1 for even the beauty of form it restricts within the limits of the human species1 in which1 as we know1 the ,greeks included also their gods4 ,but if grace is the exclusive privilege of the human form1 none of the movements which are common to man with the rest of nature can evidently pretend to it4 ,thus1 for example1 if it were admitted that the ringlets of hair on a beautiful head undulate with grace1 there would also be no reason to deny a grace of movement to the branches of trees1 to the waves of the stream1 to the ears of a field of corn1 or to the limbs of animals4 ,no1 the goddess of ,cnidus represents exclusively the human species2 therefore1 as soon as you see only a physical creature in man1 a purely sensuous object1 she is no longer concerned with him4 ,thus1 grace can only be met with in voluntary movements1 and then in those only which express some sentiment of the moral order4 ,those which have as principle only animal sensuousness belong only1 however voluntary we may suppose them to be1 to physical nature1 which never reaches of itself to grace4 ,if it were possible to have grace in the manifestations of the physical appetites and instincts1 grace would no longer be either capable or worthy to serve as the expression of humanity4 ,yet it is humanity alone which to the ,greek contains all the idea of beauty and of perfection4 ,he never consents to see separated from the soul the purely sensuous part1 and such is with him that which might be called man's sensuous nature1 which it is equally impossible for him to isolate either from his lower nature or from his intelligence4 ,in the same way that no idea presents itself to his mind without taking at once a visible form1 and without his endeavoring to give a bodily envelope even to his intellectual conceptions1 so he desires in man that all his instinctive acts should express at the same time his moral destination4 ,never for the ,greek is nature purely physical nature1 and for that reason he does not blush to honor it2 never for him is reason purely reason1 and for that reason he has not to tremble in submitting to its rule4 ,the physical nature and moral sentiments1 matter and mind1 earth and heaven1 melt together with a marvellous beauty in his poetry4 ,free activity1 which is truly at home only in ,olympus1 was introduced by him even into the domain of sense1 and it is a further reason for not attaching blame to him if reciprocally he transported the affections of the sense into ,olympus4 ,thus1 this delicate sense of the ,greeks1 which never suffered the material element unless accompanied by the spiritual principle1 recognizes in man no voluntary movement belonging only to sense which did not at the same time manifest the moral sentiment of the soul4 ,it follows that for them grace is one of the manifestations of the soul1 revealed through beauty in voluntary movements2 therefore1 wherever there is grace1 it is the soul which is the mobile1 and it is in her that beauty of movement has its principle4 ,the mythological allegory thus expresses the thought1 ,grace is a beauty not given by nature1 but produced by the subject itself4 ,up to the present time ,i have confined myself to unfolding the idea of grace from the ,greek myth1 and ,i hope ,i have not forced the sense3 may ,i now be permitted to try to what result a philosophical investigation on this point will lead us1 and to see if this subject1 as so many others1 will confirm this truth1 that the spirit of philosophy can hardly flatter itself that it can discover anything which has not already been vaguely perceived by sentiment and revealed in poetry8 ,without her girdle1 and without the ,graces1 ,venus represents the ideal of beauty1 such as she could have come forth from the hands of nature1 and such as she is made without the intervention of mind endowed with sentiment and by the virtue alone of plastic forces4 ,it is not without reason that the fable created a particular divinity to represent this sort of beauty1 because it suffices to see and to feel in order to distinguish it very distinctly from the other1 from that which derives its origin from the influence of a mind endowed with sentiments4 ,this first beauty1 thus formed by nature solely and in virtue of the laws of necessity1 ,i shall distinguish from that which is regulated upon conditions of liberty1 in calling it1 if allowed1 beauty of structure 7architectonic beauty74 ,it is agreed1 therefore1 to designate under this name that portion of human beauty which not only has as efficient principle the forces and agents of physical nature 7for we can say as much for every phenomenon71 but which also is determined1 so far as it is beauty solely1 by the forces of this nature4 ,well-proportioned limbs1 rounded contours1 an agreeable complexion1 delicacy of skin1 an easy and graceful figure1 a harmonious tone of voice1 etc41 are advantages which are gifts of nature and fortune3 of nature1 which predisposed to this1 and developed it herself2 of fortune1 which protects against all influence adverse to the work of nature4 ,venus came forth perfect and complete from the foam of the sea4 ,why perfect8 because she is the finished and exactly determined work of necessity1 and on that account she is neither susceptible of variety nor of progress4 ,in other terms1 as she is only a beautiful representation of the various ends which nature had in view in forming man1 and thence each of her properties is perfectly determined by the idea that she realizes2 hence it follows that we can consider her as definitive and determined 7with regard to its connection with the first conception7 although this conception is subject1 in its development1 to the conditions of time4 ,the architectonic beauty of the human form and its technical perfection are two ideas1 which we must take good care not to confound4 ,by the latter1 the ensemble of particular ends must be understood1 such as they co-ordinate between themselves towards a general and higher end2 by the other1 on the contrary1 a character suited to the representation of these ends1 as far as these are revealed1 under a visible form1 to our faculty of seeing and observing4 ,when1 then1 we speak of beauty1 we neither take into consideration the justness of the aims of nature in themselves1 nor formally1 the degree of adaptation to the principles of art which their combination could offer4 ,our contemplative faculties hold to the manner in which the object appears to them1 without taking heed to its logical constitution4 ,thus1 although the architectonic beauty1 in the structure of man1 be determined by the idea which has presided at this structure1 and by the ends that nature proposes for it1 the aesthetic judgment1 making abstraction of these ends1 considers this beauty in itself2 and in the idea which we form of it1 nothing enters which does not immediately and properly belong to the exterior appearance4 ,we are1 then1 not obliged to say that the dignity of man and of his condition heightens the beauty of his structure4 ,the idea we have of his dignity may influence1 it is true1 the judgment that we form on the beauty of his structure2 but then this judgment ceases to be purely aesthetic4 ,doubtless1 the technical constitution of the human form is an expression of its destiny1 and1 as such1 it ought to excite our admiration2 but this technical constitution is represented to the understanding and not to sense2 it is a conception and not a phenomenon4 ,the architectonic beauty1 on the contrary1 could never be an expression of the destiny of man1 because it addresses itself to quite a different faculty from that to which it belongs to pronounce upon his destiny4 ,if1 then1 man is1 amongst all the technical forces created by nature1 that to whom more especially we attribute beauty1 this is exact and true only under one condition1 which is1 that at once and upon the simple appearance he justifies this superiority1 without the necessity1 in order to appreciate it1 that we bring to mind his humanity4 ,for1 to recall this1 we must pass through a conception2 and then it would no longer be the sense1 but the understanding1 that would become the judge of beauty1 which would imply contradiction4 ,man1 therefore1 cannot put forward the dignity of his moral destiny1 nor give prominence to his superiority as intelligence1 to increase the price of his beauty4 ,man1 here1 is but a being thrown like others into space--a phenomenon amongst other phenomena4 ,in the world of sense no account is made of the rank he holds in the world of ideas2 and if he desires in that to hold the first place1 he can only owe it to that in him which belongs to the physical order4 ,but his physical nature is determined1 we know1 by the idea of his humanity2 from which it follows that his architectonic beauty is so also mediately4 ,if1 then he is distinguished by superior beauty from all other creatures of the sensuous world1 it is incontestable that he owes this advantage to his destiny as man1 because it is in it that the reason is of the differences which in general separate him from the rest of the sensuous world4 ,but the beauty of the human form is not due to its being the expression of this superior destiny1 for if it were so1 this form would necessarily cease to be beautiful1 from the moment it began to express a less high destiny1 and the contrary to this form would be beautiful as soon as it could be admitted that it expresses this higher destination4 ,however1 suppose that at the sight of a fine human face we could completely forget that which it expresses1 and put in its place1 without chancing anything of its outside1 the savage instincts of the tiger1 the judgment of the eyesight would remain absolutely the same1 and the tiger would be for it the chef-d'oeuvre of the ,creator4 ,the destiny of man as intelligence contributes1 then1 to the beauty of his structure only so far as the form that represents this destiny1 the expression that makes it felt1 satisfies at the same time the conditions which are prescribed in the world of sense to the manifestations of the beautiful2 which signifies that beauty ought always to remain a pure effect of physical nature1 and that the rational conception which had determined the technical utility of the human structure cannot confer beauty1 but simply be compatible with beauty4 ,it could be objected1 it is true1 that in general all which is manifested by a sensuous representation is produced by the forces of nature1 and that consequently this character cannot be exclusively an indication of the beautiful4 ,certainly1 and without doubt1 all technical creations are the work of nature2 but it is not by the fact of nature that they are technical1 or at least that they are so judged to be4 ,they are technical only through the understanding1 and thus their technical perfection has already its existence in the understanding1 before passing into the world of sense1 and becoming a sensible phenomenon4 ,beauty1 on the contrary1 has the peculiarity1 that the sensuous world is not only its theatre1 but the first source from whence it derives its birth1 and that it owes to nature not only its expression1 but also its creation4 ,beauty is absolutely but a property of the world of sense2 and the artist1 who has the beautiful in view1 would not attain to it but inasmuch as he entertains this illusion1 that his work is the work of nature4 ,in order to appreciate the technical perfection of the human body1 we must bear in mind the ends to which it is appropriated2 this being quite unnecessary for the appreciation of its beauty4 ,here the senses require no aid1 and of themselves judge with full competence2 however they would not be competent judges of the beautiful1 if the world of sense 7the senses have no other object7 did not contain all the conditions of beauty and was therefore competent to produce it4 ,the beauty of man1 it is true1 has for mediate reason the idea of his humanity1 because all his physical nature is founded on this idea2 but the senses1 we know1 hold to immediate phenomena1 and for them it is exactly the same as if this beauty were a simple effect of nature1 perfectly independent4 ,from what we have said1 up to the present time1 it would appear that the beautiful can offer absolutely no interest to the understanding1 because its principle belongs solely to the world of sense1 and amongst all our faculties of knowledge it addresses itself only to our senses4 ,and in fact1 the moment that we sever from the idea of the beautiful1 as a foreign element1 all that is mixed with the idea of technical perfection1 almost inevitably1 in the judgment of beauty1 it appears that nothing remains to it by which it can become the object of an intellectual pleasure4 ,and nevertheless1 it is quite as incontestable that the beautiful pleases the understanding1 as it is beyond doubt that the beautiful rests upon no property of the object that could not be discovered but by the understanding4 ,to solve this apparent contradiction1 it must be remembered that the phenomena can in two different ways pass to the state of objects of the understanding and express ideas4 ,it is not always necessary that the understanding draws these ideas from phenomena2 it can also put them into them4 ,in the two cases1 the phenomena will be adequate to a rational conception1 with this simple difference1 that1 in the first case1 the understanding finds it objectively given1 and to a certain extent only receives it from the object because it is necessary that the idea should be given to explain the nature and often even the possibility of the object2 whilst in the second case1 on the contrary1 it is the understanding which of itself interprets1 in a manner to make of it the expression of its idea1 that which the phenomenon offers us1 without any connection with this idea1 and thus treats by a metaphysical process that which in reality is purely physical4 ,there1 then1 in the association of the idea with the object there is an objective necessity2 here1 on the contrary1 a subjective necessity at the utmost4 ,it is unnecessary to say that1 in my mind1 the first of these two connections ought to be understood of technical perfection1 the second1 of the beautiful4 ,as then in the second case it is a thing quite contingent for the sensuous object that there should or should not be outside of it an object which perceives it--an understanding that associates one of its own ideas with it1 consequently1 the ensemble of these objective properties ought to be considered as fully independent of this idea2 we have perfectly the right to reduce the beautiful1 objectively1 to the simple conditions of physical nature1 and to see nothing more in beauty than effect belonging purely to the world of sense4 ,but as1 on the other side1 the understanding makes of this simple fact of the world of sense a transcendent usage1 and in lending it a higher signification inasmuch as he marks it1 as it were1 with his image1 we have equally the right to transport the beautiful1 subjectively1 into the world of intelligence4 ,it is in this manner that beauty belongs at the same time to the two worlds--to one by the right of birth1 to the other by adoption2 it takes its being in the world of sense1 it acquires the rights of citizenship in the world of understanding4 ,it is that which explains how it can be that taste1 as the faculty for appreciating the beautiful1 holds at once the spiritual element and that of sense2 and that these two natures1 incompatible one with the other1 approach in order to form in it a happy union4 ,it is this that explains how taste can conciliate respect for the understanding with the material element1 and with the rational principle the favor and the sympathy of the senses1 how it can ennoble the perceptions of the senses so as to make ideas of them1 and1 in a certain measure1 transform the physical world itself into a domain of the ideal4 ,at all events1 if it is accidental with regard to the object1 that the understanding associates1 at the representation of this object1 one of its own ideas with it1 it is not the less necessary for the subject which represents it to attach to such a representation such an idea4 ,this idea1 and the sensuous indication which corresponds to it in the object1 ought to be one with the other in such relation1 that the understanding be forced to this association by its own immutable laws2 the understanding then must have in itself the reason which leads it to associate exclusively a certain phenomenon with a certain determined idea1 and1 reciprocally1 the object should have in itself the reason for which it exclusively provokes that idea and not another4 ,as to knowing what the idea can be which the understanding carries into the beautiful1 and by what objective property the object gifted with beauty can be capable of serving as symbol to this idea1 is then a question much too grave to be solved here in passing1 and ,i reserve this examination for an analytical theory of the beautiful4 ,the architectonic beauty of man is then1 in the way ,i have explained it1 the visible expression of a rational conception1 but it is so only in the same sense and the same title as are in general all the beautiful creations of nature4 ,as to the degree1 ,i agree that it surpasses all the other beauties2 but with regard to kind1 it is upon the same rank as they are1 because it also manifests that which alone is perceptible of its subject1 and it is only when we represent it to ourselves that it receives a super-sensuous value4 ,if the ends of creation are marked in man with more of success and of beauty than in the organic beings1 it is to some extent a favor which the intelligence1 inasmuch as it dictated the laws of the human structure1 has shown to nature charged to execute those laws4 ,the intelligence1 it is true1 pursues its end in the technique of man with a rigorous necessity1 but happily its exigencies meet and accord with the necessary laws of nature so well1 that one executes the order of the other whilst acting according to its own inclination4 ,but this can only be true respecting the architectonic beauty of man1 where the necessary laws of physical nature are sustained by another necessity1 that of the teleological principle which determines them4 ,it is here only that the beautiful could be calculated by relation to the technique of the structure1 which can no longer take place when the necessity is on one side alone1 and the super-sensuous cause which determines the phenomenon takes a contingent character4 ,thus1 it is nature alone who takes upon herself the architectonic beauty of man1 because here1 from the first design1 she had been charged once for all by the creating intelligence with the execution of all that man needs in order to arrive at the ends for which he is destined1 and she has in consequence no change to fear in this organic work which she accomplishes4 ,but man is moreover a person--that is to say1 a being whose different states can have their cause in himself1 and absolutely their last cause2 a being who can be modified by reason that he draws from himself4 ,the manner in which he appears in the world of sense depends upon the manner in which he feels and wills1 and1 consequently1 upon certain states which are freely determined by himself1 and not fatally by nature4 ,if man were only a physical creature1 nature1 at the same time that she establishes the general laws of his being1 would determine also the various causes of application4 ,but here she divides her empire with free arbitration2 and1 although its laws are fixed1 it is the mind that pronounces upon particular cases4 ,the domain of mind extends as far as living nature goes1 and it finishes only at the point at which organic life loses itself in unformed matter1 at the point at which the animal forces cease to act4 ,it is known that all the motive forces in man are connected one with the other1 and this makes us understand how the mind1 even considered as principle of voluntary movement1 can propagate its action through all organisms4 ,it is not only the instruments of the will1 but the organs themselves upon which the will does not immediately exercise its empire1 that undergo1 indirectly at least1 the influence of mind2 the mind determines then1 not only designedly when it acts1 but again1 without design1 when it feels4 ,from nature in herself 7this result is clearly perceived from what precedes7 we must ask nothing but a fixed beauty1 that of the phenomena that she alone has determined according to the law of necessity4 ,but with free arbitration1 chance 7the accidental71 interferes in the work of nature1 and the modifications that affect it thus under the empire of free will are no longer1 although all behave according to its own laws1 determined by these laws4 ,from thence it is to the mind to decide the use it will make of its instruments1 and with regard to that part of beauty which depends on this use1 nature has nothing further to command1 nor1 consequently1 to incur any responsibility4 ,and thus man by reason that1 making use of his liberty1 he raises himself into the sphere of pure intelligences1 would find himself in danger of sinking1 inasmuch as he is a creature of sense1 and of losing in the judgment of taste that which he gains at the tribunal of reason4 ,this moral destiny1 therefore1 accomplished by the moral action of man1 would cost him a privilege which was assured to him by this same moral destiny when only indicated in his structure2 a purely sensuous privilege1 it is true1 but one which receives1 as we have seen1 a signification and a higher value from the understanding4 ,no2 nature is too much enamored with harmony to be guilty of so gross a contradiction1 and that which is harmonious in the world of the understanding could not be rendered by a discord in the world of sense4 ,as soon1 then1 as in man the person1 the moral and free agent1 takes upon himself to determine the play of phenomena1 and by his intervention takes from nature the power to protect the beauty of her work1 he then1 as it were1 substitutes himself for nature1 and assumes in a certain measure1 with the rights of nature1 a part of the obligations incumbent on her4 ,when the mind1 taking possession of the sensuous matter subservient to it1 implicates it in his destiny and makes it depend on its own modifications1 it transforms itself to a certain point into a sensuous phenomenon1 and1 as such1 is obliged to recognize the law which regulates in general all the phenomena4 ,in its own interest it engages to permit that nature in its service1 placed under its dependence1 shall still preserve its character of nature1 and never act in a manner contrary to its anterior obligations4 ,i call the beautiful an obligation of phenomena1 because the want which corresponds to it in the subject has its reason in the understanding itself1 and thus it is consequently universal and necessary4 ,i call it an anterior obligation because the senses1 in the matter of beauty1 have given their judgment before the understanding commences to perform its office4 ,thus it is now free arbitration which rules the beautiful4 ,if nature has furnished the architectonic beauty1 the soul in its turn determines the beauty of the play1 and now also we know what we must understand by charm and grace4 ,grace is the beauty of the form under the influence of free will2 it is the beauty of this kind of phenomena that the person himself determines4 ,the architectonic beauty does honor to the author of nature2 grace does honor to him who possesses it4 ,that is a gift1 this is a personal merit4 ,grace can be found only in movement1 for a modification which takes place in the soul can only be manifested in the sensuous world as movement4 ,but this does not prevent features fixed and in repose also from possessing grace4 ,there immobility is1 in its origin1 movement which1 from being frequently repeated1 at length becomes habitual1 leaving durable traces4 ,but all the movements of man are not capable of grace4 ,grace is never otherwise than beauty of form animated into movement by free will2 and the movements which belong only to physical nature could not merit the name4 ,it is true that an intellectual man1 if he be keen1 ends by rendering himself master of almost all the movements of the body2 but when the chain which links a fine lineament to a moral sentiment lengthens much1 this lineament becomes the property of the structure1 and can no longer be counted as a grace4 ,it happens1 ultimately1 that the mind moulds the body1 and that the structure is forced to modify itself according to the play that the soul imprints upon the organs1 so entirely1 that grace finally is transformed--and the examples are not rare--into architectonic beauty4 ,as at one time an antagonistic mind which is ill at ease with itself alters and destroys the most perfect beauty of structure1 until at last it becomes impossible to recognize this magnificent chef-d'oeuvre of nature in the state to which it is reduced under the unworthy hands of free will1 so at other times the serenity and perfect harmony of the soul come to the aid of the hampered technique1 unloose nature and develop with divine splendor the beauty of form1 enveloped until then1 and oppressed4 ,the plastic nature of man has in it an infinity of resources to retrieve the negligencies and repair the faults that she may have committed4 ,to this end it is sufficient that the mind1 the moral agent1 sustain it1 or even withhold from troubling it in the labor of rebuilding4 ,since the movements become fixed 7gestures pass to a state of lineament71 are themselves capable of grace1 it would perhaps appear to be rational to comprehend equally under this idea of beauty some apparent or imitative movements 7the flamboyant lines for example1 undulations74 ,it is this which ,mendelssohn upholds4 ,but then the idea of grace would be confounded with the ideal of beauty in general1 for all beauty is definitively but a property of true or apparent movement 7objective or subjective71 as ,i hope to demonstrate in an analysis of beauty4 ,with regard to grace1 the only movements which can offer any are those which respond at the same time to a sentiment4 ,the person 7it is known what ,i mean by the expression7 prescribes the movements of the body1 either through the will1 when he desires to realize in the world of sense an effect of which he has proposed the idea1 and in that case the movements are said to be voluntary or intentional2 or1 on the other hand1 they take place without its will taking any part in it--in virtue of a fatal law of the organism--but on the occasion of a sentiment1 in the latter case1 ,i say that the movements are sympathetic4 ,the sympathetic movement1 though it may be involuntary and provoked by a sentiment1 ought not to be confounded with those purely instinctive movements that proceed from physical sensibility4 ,physical instinct is not a free agent1 and that which it executes is not an act of the person2 ,i understand then here exclusively1 by sympathetic movements1 those which accompany a sentiment1 a disposition of the moral order4 ,the question that now presents itself is this3 ,of these two kinds of movement1 having their principle in the person1 which is capable of grace8 ,that which we are rigorously forced to distinguish in philosophic analysis is not always separated also in the real4 ,thus it is rare that we meet intentional movements without sympathetic movements1 because the will determines the intentional movements only after being decided itself by the moral sentiments which are the principle of the sympathetic movements4 ,when a person speaks1 we see his looks1 his lineaments1 his hands1 often the whole person all together speaks to us2 and it is not rare that this mimic part of the discourse is the most eloquent4 ,still more there are cases where an intentional movement can be considered at the same time as sympathetic2 and it is that which happens when something involuntary mingles with the voluntary act which determines this movement4 ,i will explain3 the mode1 the manner in which a voluntary movement is executed1 is not a thing so exactly determined by the intention which is proposed by it that it cannot be executed in several different ways4 ,well1 then1 that which the will or intention leaves undetermined can be sympathetically determined by the state of moral sensibility in which the person is found to be1 and consequently can express this state4 ,when ,i extend the arm to seize an object1 ,i execute1 in truth1 an intention1 and the movement ,i make is determined in general by the end that ,i have in view2 but in what way does my arm approach the object8 how far do the other parts of my body follow this impulsion8 ,what will be the degree of slowness or of the rapidity of the movement8 ,what amount of force shall ,i employ8 ,this is a calculation of which my will1 at the instant1 takes no account1 and in consequence there is a something left to the discretion of nature4 ,but nevertheless1 though that part of the movement is not determined by the intention itself1 it must be decided at length in one way or the other1 and the reason is that the manner in which my moral sensibility is affected can have here decisive influence3 it is this which will give the tone1 and which thus determines the mode and the manner of the movement4 ,therefore this influence1 which exercises upon the voluntary movement the state of moral sensibility in which the subject is found1 represents precisely the involuntary part of this movement1 and it is there then that we must seek for grace4 ,a voluntary movement1 if it is not linked to any sympathetic movement--or that which comes to the same thing1 if there is nothing involuntary mixed up with it having for principle the moral state of sensibility in which the subject happens to be--could not in any manner present grace1 for grace always supposes as a cause a disposition of the soul4 ,voluntary movement is produced after an operation of the soul1 which in consequence is already completed at the moment in which the movement takes place4 ,the sympathetic movement1 on the contrary1 accompanies this operation of the soul1 and the moral state of sensibility which decides it to this operation4 ,so that this movement ought to be considered as simultaneous with regard to both one and the other4 ,from that alone it results that voluntary movement not proceeding immediately from the disposition of the subject could not be an expression of this disposition also4 ,for between the disposition and the movement itself the volition has intervened1 which1 considered in itself1 is something perfectly indifferent4 ,this movement is the work of the volition1 it is determined by the aim that is proposed2 it is not the work of the person1 nor the product of the sentiments that affect it4 ,the voluntary movement is united but accidentally with the disposition which precedes it2 the concomitant movement1 on the contrary1 is necessarily linked to it4 ,the first is to the soul that which the conventional signs of speech are to the thoughts which they express4 ,the second1 on the contrary1 the sympathetic movement or concomitant1 is to the soul that which the cry of passion is to the passion itself4 ,the involuntary movement is1 then1 an expression of the mind1 not by its nature1 but only by its use4 ,and in consequence we are not authorized to say that the mind is revealed in a voluntary movement2 this movement never expresses more than the substance of the will 7the aim71 and not the form of the will 7the disposition74 ,the disposition can only manifest itself to us by concomitant movements4 ,it follows that we can infer from the words of a man the kind of character he desires to have attributed to him2 but if we desire to know what is in reality his character we must seek to divine it in the mimic expression which accompanies his words1 and in his gestures1 that is to say1 in the movements which he did not desire4 ,if we perceive that this man wills even the expression of his features1 from the instant we have made this discovery we cease to believe in his physiognomy and to see in it an indication of his sentiments4 ,it is true that a man1 by dint of art and of study1 can at last arrive at this result1 to subdue to his will even the concomitant movements2 and1 like a clever juggler1 to shape according to his pleasure such or such a physiognomy upon the mirror from which his soul is reflected through mimic action4 ,but then1 with such a man all is dissembling1 and art entirely absorbs nature4 ,the true grace1 on the contrary1 ought always to be pure nature1 that is to say1 involuntary 7or at least appear to be so71 to be graceful4 ,the subject even ought not to appear to know that it possesses grace4 ,by which we can also see incidentally what we must think of grace1 either imitated or learned 7,i would willingly call it theatrical grace1 or the grace of the dancing-master74 ,it is the pendant of that sort of beauty which a woman seeks from her toilet-table1 reinforced with rouge1 white paint1 false ringlets1 pads1 and whalebone4 ,imitative grace is to true grace what beauty of toilet is to architectonic beauty4 ,one and the other could act in absolutely the same manner upon the senses badly exercised1 as the original of which they wish to be the imitation2 and at times even1 if much art is put into it1 they might create an illusion to the connoisseur4 ,but there will be always some indication through which the intention and constraint will betray it in the end1 and this discovery will lead inevitably to indifference1 if not even to contempt and disgust4 ,if we are warned that the architectonic beauty is factitious1 at once1 the more it has borrowed from a nature which is not its own1 the more it loses in our eyes of that which belongs to humanity 7so far as it is phenomenal71 and then we1 who forbid the renunciation lightly of an accidental advantage1 how can we see with pleasure or even with indifference an exchange through which man sacrifices a part of his proper nature in order to substitute elements taken from inferior nature8 ,how1 even supposing we could forgive the illusion produced1 how could we avoid despising the deception8 ,if we are told that grace is artificial1 our heart at once closes2 our soul1 which at first advanced with so much vivacity to meet the graceful object1 shrinks back4 ,that which was mind has suddenly become matter4 ,juno and her celestial beauty has vanished1 and in her place there is nothing but a phantom of vapour4 ,although grace ought to be1 or at least ought to appear1 something involuntary1 still we seek it only in the movements that depend more or less on the will4 ,i know also that grace is attributed to a certain mimic language1 and we say a pleasing smile1 a charming blush1 though the smile and the blush are sympathetic movements1 not determined by the will1 but by moral sensibility4 ,but besides that1 the first of these movements is1 after all1 in our power1 and that it is not shown that in the second there is1 properly speaking1 any grace1 it is right to say1 in general1 that most frequently when grace appears it is on the occasion of a voluntary movement4 ,grace is desired both in language and in song2 it is asked for in the play of the eyes and of the mouth1 in the movements of the hands and the arms whenever these movements are free and voluntary2 it is required in the walk1 in the bearing1 and attitude1 in a word1 in all exterior demonstrations of man1 so far as they depend on his will4 ,as to the movements which the instinct of nature produces in us1 or which an overpowering affection excites1 or1 so to speak1 is lord over2 that which we ask of these movements1 in origin purely physical1 is1 as we shall see presently1 quite another thing than grace4 ,these kinds of movements belong to nature1 and not to the person1 but it is from the person alone1 as we have seen1 that all grace issues4 ,if1 then1 grace is a property that we demand only from voluntary movements1 and if1 on the other hand1 all voluntary element should be rigorously excluded from grace1 we have no longer to seek it but in that portion of the intentional movements to which the intention of the subject is unknown1 but which1 however1 does not cease to answer in the soul to a moral cause4 ,we now know in what kind of movements he must ask for grace2 but we know nothing more1 and a movement can have these different characters1 without on that account being graceful2 it is as yet only speaking 7or mimic74 ,i call speaking 7in the widest sense of the word7 every physical phenomenon which accompanies and expresses a certain state of the soul2 thus1 in this acceptation1 all the sympathetic movements are speaking1 including those which accompany the simple affections of the animal sensibility4 ,the aspect1 even1 under which the animals present themselves1 can be speaking1 as soon as they outwardly show their inward dispositions4 ,but1 with them1 it is nature alone which speaks1 and ,,not ,,liberty4 ,by the permanent configuration of animals through their fixed and architectonic features1 nature expresses the aim she proposed in creating them2 by their mimic traits she expresses the want awakened and the want satisfied4 ,necessity reigns in the animal as well as in the plant1 without meeting the obstacle of a person4 ,the animals have no individuality farther than each of them is a specimen by itself of a general type of nature1 and the aspect under which they present themselves at such or such an instant of their duration is only a particular example of the accomplishment of the views of nature under determined natural conditions4 ,to take the word in a more restricted sense1 the configuration of man alone is speaking1 and it is itself so only in those of the phenomena that accompany and express the state of its moral sensibility4 ,i say it is only in this sort of phenomena2 for1 in all the others1 man is in the same rank as the rest of sensible beings4 ,by the permanent configuration of man1 by his architectonic features1 nature only expresses1 just as in the animals and other organic beings1 her own intention4 ,it is true the intention of nature may go here much further1 and the means she employs to reach her end may offer in their combination more of art and complication2 but all that ought to be placed solely to the account of nature1 and can confer no advantage on man himself4 ,in the animal1 and in the plant1 nature gives not only the destination2 she acts herself and acts alone in the accomplishment of her ends4 ,in man1 nature limits herself in marking her views2 she leaves to himself their accomplishment1 it is this alone that makes of him a man4 ,alone of all known beings--man1 in his quality of person1 has the privilege to break the chain of necessity by his will1 and to determine in himself an entire series of fresh spontaneous phenomena4 ,the act by which he thus determines himself is properly that which we call an action1 and the things that result from this sort of action are what we exclusively name his acts4 ,thus man can only show his personality by his own acts4 ,the configuration of the animal not only expresses the idea of his destination1 but also the relation of his present state with this destination4 ,and as in the animal it is nature which determines and at the same time accomplishes its destiny1 the configuration of the animal can never express anything else than the work of nature4 ,if then nature1 whilst determining the destiny of man1 abandons to the will of man himself the care to accomplish it1 the relation of his present state with his destiny cannot be a work of nature1 but ought to be the work of the person2 it follows1 that all in the configuration which expresses this relation will belong1 not to nature1 but to the person1 that is to say1 will be considered as a personal expression2 if then1 the architectonic part of his configuration tells us the views that nature proposed to herself in creating him1 the mimic part of his face reveals what he has himself done for the accomplishment of these views4 ,it is not then enough for us1 when there is question of the form of man1 to find in it the expression of humanity in general1 or even of that which nature has herself contributed to the individual in particular1 in order to realize the human type in it2 for he would have that in common with every kind of technical configuration4 ,we expect something more of his face2 we desire that it reveal to us at the same time1 up to what point man himself1 in his liberty1 has contributed towards the aim of nature2 in other words1 we desire that his face bear witness to his character4 ,in the first case we see that nature proposed to create in him a man2 but it is in the second case only that we can judge if he has become so in reality4 ,thus1 the face of a man is truly his own only inasmuch as his face is mimic2 but also all that is mimic in his face is entirely his own4 ,for1 if we suppose the case in which the greatest part1 and even the totality1 of these mimic features express nothing more than animal sensations or instincts1 and1 in consequence1 would show nothing more than the animal in him1 it would still remain that it was in his destiny and in his power to limit1 by his liberty1 his sensuous nature4 ,the presence of these kinds of traits clearly witness that he has not made use of this faculty4 ,we see by that he has not accomplished his destiny1 and in this sense his face is speaking2 it is still a moral expression1 the same as the non-accomplishment of an act commanded by duty is likewise a sort of action4 ,we must distinguish from these speaking features which are always an expression of the soul1 the features non-speaking or dumb1 which are exclusively the work of plastic nature1 and which it impresses on the human face when it acts independently of all influence of the soul4 ,i call them dumb1 because1 like incomprehensible figures put there by nature1 they are silent upon the character4 ,they mark only distinctive properties attributed by nature to all the kind2 and if at times they are sufficient to distinguish the individual1 they at least never express anything of the person4 ,these features are by no means devoid of signification for the physiognomies1 because the physiognomies not only studies that which man has made of his being1 but also that which nature has done for him and against him4 ,it is not also easy to determine with precision where the dumb traits or features end1 where the speaking traits commence4 ,the plastic forces on one side1 with their uniform action1 and1 on the other1 the affections which depend on no law1 dispute incessantly the ground2 and that which nature1 in its dumb and indefatigable activity1 has succeeded in raising up1 often is overturned by liberty1 as a river that overflows and spreads over its banks3 the mind when it is gifted with vivacity acquires influence over all the movements of the body1 and arrives at last indirectly to modify by force the sympathetic play as far as the architectonic and fixed forms of nature1 upon which the will has no hold4 ,in a man thus constituted it becomes at last characteristic2 and it is that which we can often observe upon certain heads which a long life1 strange accidents1 and an active mind have moulded and worked4 ,in these kinds of faces there is only the generic character which belongs to plastic nature2 all which here forms individuality is the act of the person himself1 and it is this which causes it to be said1 with much reason1 that those faces are all soul4 ,look at that man1 on the contrary1 who has made for himself a mechanical existence1 those disciples of the rule4 ,the rule can well calm the sensuous nature1 but not awaken human nature1 the superior faculties3 look at those flat and inexpressive physiognomies2 the finger of nature has alone left there its impression2 a soul inhabits these bodies1 but it is a sluggish soul1 a discreet guest1 and1 as a peaceful and silent neighbour who does not disturb the plastic force at its work1 left to itself4 ,never a thought which requires an effort1 never a movement of passion1 hurries the calm cadence of physical life4 ,there is no danger that the architectonic features ever become changed by the play of voluntary movements1 and never would liberty trouble the functions of vegetative life4 ,as the profound calm of the mind does not bring about a notable degeneracy of forces1 the expense would never surpass the receipts2 it is rather the animal economy which would always be in excess4 ,in exchange for a certain sum of well-being which it throws as bait1 the mind makes itself the servant1 the punctual major-domo of physical nature1 and places all his glory in keeping his books in order4 ,thus will be accomplished that which organic nature can accomplish2 thus will the work of nutrition and of reproduction prosper4 ,so happy a concord between animal nature and the will cannot but be favorable to architectonic beauty1 and it is there that we can observe this beauty in all its purity4 ,but the general forces of nature1 as every one knows1 are eternally at warfare with the particular or organic forces1 and1 however cleverly balanced is the technique of a body1 the cohesion and the weight end always by getting the upper hand4 ,also architectonic beauty1 so far as it is a simple production of nature1 has its fixed periods1 its blossoming1 its maturity1 and its decline--periods the revolution of which can easily be accelerated1 but not retarded in any case1 by the play of the will1 and this is the way in which it most frequently finishes2 little by little matter takes the upper hand over form1 and the plastic principle1 which vivified the being1 prepares for itself its tomb under the accumulation of matter4 ,however1 although no dumb trait1 considered in an isolated point of view1 can be an expression of the mind1 a face composed entirely of these kinds of features can be characterized in its entireness by precisely the same reason as a face which is speaking only as an expression of sensuous nature can be nevertheless characteristic4 ,i mean to say that the mind is obliged to exercise its activity and to feel conformably to its moral nature1 and it accuses itself and betrays its fault when the face which it animates shows no trace of this moral activity4 ,if1 therefore1 the pure and beautiful expression of the destination of man1 which is marked in his architectonic structure1 penetrates us with satisfaction and respect for the sovereign1 reason1 who is the author of it1 at all events these two sentiments will not be for us without mixture but in as far as we see in man a simple creation of nature4 ,but if we consider in him the moral person1 we have a right to demand of his face an expression of the person1 and if this expectation is deceived contempt will infallibly follow4 ,simply organic beings have a right to our respect as creatures2 man cannot pretend to it but in the capacity of creator1 that is to say1 as being himself the determiner of his own condition4 ,he ought not only1 as the other sensuous creatures1 to reflect the rays of a foreign intelligence1 were it even the divine intelligence2 man ought1 as a sun1 to shine by his own light4 ,thus we require of man a speaking expression as soon as he becomes conscious of his moral destiny2 but we desire at the same time that this expression speak to his advantage1 that is to say1 it marks in him sentiments conformable to his moral destiny1 and a superior moral aptitude4 ,this is what reason requires in the human face4 ,but1 on the other side1 man1 as far as he is a phenomenon1 is an object of sense2 there1 where the moral sentiment is satisfied1 the aesthetic sentiment does not understand its being made a sacrifice1 and the conformity with an idea ought not to lessen the beauty of the phenomenon4 ,thus1 as much as reason requires an expression of the morality of the subject in the human face1 so much1 and with no less rigor1 does the eye demand beauty4 ,as these two requirements1 although coming from the principles of the appreciation of different degrees1 address themselves to the same object1 also both one and the other must be given satisfaction by one and the same cause4 ,the disposition of the soul which places man in the best state for accomplishing his moral destiny ought to give place to an expression that will be at the same time the most advantageous to his beauty as phenomenon2 in other terms1 his moral exercise ought to be revealed by grace4 ,but a great difficulty now presents itself from the idea alone of the expressive movements which bear witness to the morality of the subject3 it appears that the cause of these movements is necessarily a moral cause1 a principle which resides beyond the world of sense2 and from the sole idea of beauty it is not less evident that its principle is purely sensuous1 and that it ought to be a simple effect of nature1 or at the least appear to be such4 ,but if the ultimate reason of the movements which offer a moral expression is necessarily without1 and the ultimate reason of the beautiful necessarily within1 the sensuous world1 it appears that grace1 which ought to unite both of them1 contains a manifest contradiction4 ,to avoid this contradiction we must admit that the moral cause1 which in our soul is the foundation of grace1 brings1 in a necessary manner1 in the sensibility which depends on that cause1 precisely that state which contains in itself the natural conditions of beauty4 ,i will explain4 ,the beautiful1 as each sensuous phenomenon1 supposes certain conditions1 and1 in as far as it is beautiful1 these are purely conditions of the senses2 well1 then1 in that the mind 7in virtue of a law that we cannot fathom71 from the state in which it is1 itself prescribes to physical nature which accompanies it1 its own state1 and in that the state of moral perfection is precisely in it the most favorable for the accomplishment of the physical conditions of beauty1 it follows that it is the mind which renders beauty possible2 and there its action ends4 ,but whether real beauty comes forth from it1 that depends upon the physical conditions alluded to1 and is consequently a free effect of nature4 ,therefore1 as it cannot be said that nature is properly free in the voluntary movements1 in which it is employed but as a means to attain an end1 and as1 on the other side1 it cannot be said that it is free in its involuntary movements1 which express the moral1 the liberty with which it manifests itself1 dependent as it is on the will of the subject1 must be a concession that the mind makes to nature2 and1 consequently1 it can be said that grace is a favor in which the moral has desired to gratify the sensuous element2 the same as the architectonic beauty may be considered as nature acquiescing to the technical form4 ,may ,i be permitted a comparison to clear up this point8 ,let us suppose a monarchical state administered in such a way that1 although all goes on according to the will of one person1 each citizen could persuade himself that he governs and obeys only his own inclination1 we should call that government a liberal government4 ,but we should look twice before we should thus qualify a government in which the chief makes his will outweigh the wishes of the citizens1 or a government in which the will of the citizens outweighs that of the chief4 ,in the first case1 the government would be no more liberal2 in the second1 it would not be a government at all4 ,it is not difficult to make application of these examples to what the human face could be under the government of the mind4 ,if the mind is manifested in such a way through the sensuous nature subject to its empire that it executes its behests with the most faithful exactitude1 or expresses its sentiments in the most perfectly speaking manner1 without going in the least against that which the aesthetic sense demands from it as a phenomenon1 then we shall see produced that which we call grace4 ,but this is far from being grace1 if mind is manifested in a constrained manner by the sensuous nature1 or if sensuous nature acting alone in all liberty the expression of moral nature was absent4 ,in the first case there would not be beauty2 in the second the beauty would be devoid of play4 ,the super-sensuous cause1 therefore1 the cause of which the principle is in the soul1 can alone render grace speaking1 and it is the purely sensuous cause having its principle in nature which alone can render it beautiful4 ,we are not more authorized in asserting that mind engenders beauty than we should be1 in the former example1 in maintaining that the chief of the state produces liberty2 because we can indeed leave a man in his liberty1 but not give it to him4 ,but just as when a people feels itself free under the constraint of a foreign will1 it is in a great degree due to the sentiments animating the prince2 and as this liberty would run great risks if the prince took opposite sentiments1 so also it is in the moral dispositions of the mind which suggests them that we must seek the beauty of free movements4 ,and now the question which is presented is this one3 ,what then are the conditions of personal morality which assure the utmost amount of liberty to the sensuous instruments of the will8 and what are the moral sentiments which agree the best in their expression with the beautiful8 ,that which is evident is that neither the will1 in the intentional movement1 nor the passion1 in the sympathetic movement1 ought to act as a force with regard to the physical nature which is subject to it1 in order that this1 in obeying it1 may have beauty4 ,in truth1 without going further1 common sense considers ease to be the first requisite of grace4 ,it is not less evident that1 on another side1 nature ought not to act as a force with regard to mind1 in order to give occasion for a fine moral expression2 for there1 where physical nature commands alone1 it is absolutely necessary that the character of the man should vanish4 ,we can conceive three sorts of relation of man with himself3 ,i mean the sensuous part of man with the reasonable part4 ,from these three relations we have to seek which is that one which best suits him in the sensuous world1 and the expression of which constitutes the beautiful4 ,either man enforces silence upon the exigencies of his sensuous nature1 to govern himself conformably with the superior exigencies of his reasonable nature2 or else1 on the contrary1 he subjects the reasonable portion of his being to the sensuous part1 reducing himself thus to obey only the impulses which the necessity of nature imprints upon him1 as well as upon the other phenomena2 or lastly1 harmony is established between the impulsions of the one and the laws of the other1 and man is in perfect accord with himself4 ,if he has the consciousness of his spiritual person1 of his pure autonomy1 man rejects all that is sensuous1 and it is only when thus isolated from matter that he feels to the full his moral liberty4 ,but for that1 as his sensuous nature opposes an obstinate and vigorous resistance to him1 he must1 on his side1 exercise upon it a notable pressure and a strong effort1 without which he could neither put aside the appetites nor reduce to silence the energetic voice of instinct4 ,a mind of this quality makes the physical nature which depends on him feel that it has a master in him1 whether it fulfils the orders of the will or endeavors to anticipate them4 ,under its stern discipline sensuousness appears then repressed1 and interior resistance will betray itself exteriorly by the constraint4 ,this moral state cannot1 then1 be favorable to beauty1 because nature cannot produce the beautiful but as far as it is free1 and consequently that which betrays to us the struggles of moral liberty against matter cannot either be grace4 ,if1 on the contrary1 subdued by its wants1 man allows himself to be governed without reserve by the instinct of nature1 it is his interior autonomy that vanishes1 and with it all trace of this autonomy is exteriorly effaced4 ,the animal nature is alone visible upon his visage2 the eye is watery and languishing1 the mouth rapaciously open1 the voice trembling and muffled1 the breathing short and rapid1 the limbs trembling with nervous agitation3 the whole body by its languor betrays its moral degradation4 ,moral force has renounced all resistance1 and physical nature1 with such a man1 is placed in full liberty4 ,but precisely this complete abandonment of moral independence1 which occurs ordinarily at the moment of sensuous desire1 and more still at the moment of enjoyment1 sets suddenly brute matter at liberty which until then had been kept in equilibrium by the active and passive forces4 ,the inert forces of nature commence from thence to gain the upper hand over the living forces of the organism2 the form is oppressed by matter1 humanity by common nature4 ,the eye1 in which the soul shone forth1 becomes dull1 or it protrudes from its socket with ,i know not what glassy haggardness2 the delicate pink of the cheeks thickens1 and spreads as a coarse pigment in uniform layers4 ,the mouth is no longer anything but a simple opening1 because its form no longer depends upon the action of forces1 but on their non-resistance2 the gasping voice and breathing are no more than an effort to ease the laborious and oppressed lungs1 and which show a simple mechanical want1 with nothing that reveals a soul4 ,in a word1 in that state of liberty which physical nature arrogates to itself from its chief1 we must not think of beauty4 ,under the empire of the moral agent1 the liberty of form was only restrained1 here it is crushed by brutal matter1 which gains as much ground as is abstracted from the will4 ,man in this state not only revolts the moral sense1 which incessantly claims of the face an expression of human dignity1 but the aesthetic sense1 which is not content with simple matter1 and which finds in the form an unfettered pleasure--the aesthetic sense will turn away with disgust from such a spectacle1 where concupiscence could alone find its gratification4 ,of these two relations between the moral nature of man and his physical nature1 the first makes us think of a monarchy1 where strict surveillance of the prince holds in hand all free movement2 the second is an ochlocracy1 where the citizen1 in refusing to obey his legitimate sovereign1 finds he has liberty quite as little as the human face has beauty when the moral autonomy is oppressed2 nay1 on the contrary1 just as the citizens are given over to the brutal despotism of the lowest classes1 so the form is given over here to the despotism of matter4 ,just as liberty finds itself between the two extremes of legal oppression and anarchy1 so also we shall find the beautiful between two extremes1 between the expression of dignity which bears witness to the domination exercised by the mind1 and the voluptuous expression which reveals the domination exercised by instinct4 ,in other terms1 if the beauty of expression is incompatible with the absolute government of reason over sensuous nature1 and with the government of sensuous nature over the reason1 it follows that the third state 7for one could not conceive a fourth7--that in which the reason and the senses1 duty and inclination1 are in harmony--will be that in which the beauty of play is produced4 ,in order that obedience to reason may become an object of inclination1 it must represent for us the principle of pleasure2 for pleasure and pain are the only springs which set the instincts in motion4 ,it is true that in life it is the reverse that takes place1 and pleasure is ordinarily the motive for which we act according to reason4 ,if morality itself has at last ceased to hold this language1 it is to the immortal author of the ,critique to whom we must offer our thanks2 it is to him to whom the glory is due of having restored the healthy reason in separating it from all systems4 ,but in the manner in which the principles of this philosopher are ordinarily expressed by himself and also by others1 it appears that the inclination can never be for the moral sense otherwise than a very suspicious companion1 and pleasure a dangerous auxiliary for moral determinations4 ,in admitting that the instinct of happiness does not exercise a blind domination over man1 it does not the less desire to interfere in the moral actions which depend on free arbitration1 and by that it changes the pure action of the will1 which ought always to obey the law alone1 never the instinct4 ,thus1 to be altogether sure that the inclination has not interfered with the demonstrations of the will1 we prefer to see it in opposition rather than in accord with the law of reason2 because it may happen too easily1 when the inclination speaks in favor of duty1 that duty draws from the recommendation all its credit over the will4 ,and in fact1 as in practical morals1 it is not the conformity of the acts with the law1 but only the conformity of the sentiments with duty1 which is important4 ,we do not attach1 and with reason1 any value to this consideration1 that it is ordinarily more favorable to the conformity of acts with the law that inclination is on the side of duty4 ,as a consequence1 this much appears evident3 that the assent of sense1 if it does not render suspicious the conformity of the will with duty1 at least does not guarantee it4 ,thus the sensuous expression of this assent1 expression that grace offers to us1 could never bear a sufficient available witness to the morality of the act in which it is met2 and it is not from that which an action or a sentiment manifests to the eyes by graceful expression that we must judge of the moral merit of that sentiment or of that action4 ,up to the present time ,i believe ,i have been in perfect accord with the rigorists in morals4 ,i shall not become1 ,i hope1 a relaxed moralist in endeavoring to maintain in the world of phenomena and in the real fulfilment of the law of duty those rights of sensuous nature which1 upon the ground of pure reason and in the jurisdiction of the moral law1 are completely set aside and excluded4 ,i will explain4 ,convinced as ,i am1 and precisely because ,i am convinced1 that the inclination in associating itself to an act of the will offers no witness to the pure conformity of this act with the duty1 ,i believe that we are able to infer from this that the moral perfection of man cannot shine forth except from this very association of his inclination with his moral conduct4 ,in fact1 the destiny of man is not to accomplish isolated moral acts1 but to be a moral being4 ,that which is prescribed to him does not consist of virtues1 but of virtue1 and virtue is not anything else than an inclination for duty4 ,whatever1 then1 in the objective sense1 may be the opposition which separates the acts suggested by the inclination from those which duty determines1 we cannot say it is the same in the subjective sense2 and not only is it permitted to man to accord duty with pleasure1 but he ought to establish between them this accord1 he ought to obey his reason with a sentiment of joy4 ,it is not to throw it off as a burden1 nor to cast it off as a too coarse skin4 ,no1 it is to unite it1 by a union the most intimate1 with his ,ego1 with the most noble part of his being1 that a sensuous nature has been associated in him to his purely spiritual nature4 ,by the fact that nature has made of him a being both at once reasonable and sensuous1 that is to say1 a man1 it has prescribed to him the obligation not to separate that which she has united2 not to sacrifice in him the sensuous being1 were it in the most pure manifestations of the divine part2 and never to found the triumph of one over the oppression and the ruin of the other4 ,it is only when he gathers1 so to speak1 his entire humanity together1 and his way of thinking in morals becomes the result of the united action of the two principles1 when morality has become to him a second nature1 it is then only that it is secure2 for1 as far as the mind and the duty are obliged to employ violence1 it is necessary that the instinct shall have force to resist them4 ,the enemy which only is overturned can rise up again1 but the enemy reconciled is truly vanquished4 ,in the moral philosophy of ,kant the idea of duty is proposed with a harshness enough to ruffle the ,graces1 and one which could easily tempt a feeble mind to seek for moral perfection in the sombre paths of an ascetic and monastic life4 ,whatever precautions the great philosopher has been able to take in order to shelter himself against this false interpretation1 which must be repugnant more than all else to the serenity of the free mind1 he has lent it a strong impulse1 it seems to me1 in opposing to each other by a harsh contrast the two principles which act upon the human will4 ,perhaps it was hardly possible1 from the point of view in which he was placed1 to avoid this mistake2 but he has exposed himself seriously to it4 ,upon the basis of the question there is no longer1 after the demonstration he has given1 any discussion possible1 at least for the heads which think and which are quite willing to be persuaded2 and ,i am not at all sure if it would not be better to renounce at once all the attributes of the human being than to be willing to reach on this point1 by reason1 a different result4 ,but although he began to work without any prejudice when he searched for the truth1 and though all is here explained by purely objective reasons1 it appears that when he put forward the truth once found he had been guided by a more subjective maxim1 which is not difficult1 ,i believe1 to be accounted for by the time and circumstances4 ,what1 in fact1 was the moral of his time1 either in theory or in its application8 ,on one side1 a gross materialism1 of which the shameless maxims would revolt his soul2 impure resting-places offered to the bastard characters of a century by the unworthy complacency of philosophers2 on the other side1 a pretended system of perfectibility1 not less suspicious1 which1 to realize the chimera of a general perfection common to the whole universe1 would not be embarrassed for a choice of means4 ,this is what would meet his attention4 ,so he carried there1 where the most pressing danger lay and reform was the most urgent1 the strongest forces of his principles1 and made it a law to pursue sensualism without pity1 whether it walks with a bold face1 impudently insulting morality1 or dissimulates under the imposing veil of a moral1 praiseworthy end1 under which a certain fanatical kind of order know how to disguise it4 ,he had not to disguise ignorance1 but to reform perversion2 for such a cure a violent blow1 and not persuasion or flattery1 was necessary2 and the more the contrast would be violent between the true principles and the dominant maxims1 the more he would hope to provoke reflection upon this point4 ,he was the ,draco of his time1 because his time seemed to him as yet unworthy to possess a ,solon1 neither capable of receiving him4 ,from the sanctuary of pure reason he drew forth the moral law1 unknown then1 and yet1 in another way1 so known2 he made it appear in all its saintliness before a degraded century1 and troubled himself little to know whether there were eyes too enfeebled to bear the brightness4 ,but what had the children of the house done for him to have occupied himself only with the valets8 ,because strongly impure inclinations often usurp the name of virtue1 was it a reason for disinterested inclinations in the noblest heart to be also rendered suspicious8 ,because the moral epicurean had willingly relaxed the law of reason1 in order to fit it as a plaything to his customs1 was it a reason to thus exaggerate harshness1 and to make the fulfilment of duty1 which is the most powerful manifestation of moral freedom1 another kind of decorated servitude of a more specious name8 ,and1 in fact1 between the esteem and the contempt of himself has the truly moral man a more free choice than the slave of sense between pleasure and pain8 ,is there less of constraint there for a pure will than here for a depraved will8 ,must one1 by this imperative form given to the moral law1 accuse man and humble him1 and make of this law1 which is the most sublime witness of our grandeur1 the most crushing argument for our fragility8 ,was it possible with this imperative force to avoid that a prescription which man imposes on himself1 as a reasonable being1 and which is obligatory only for him on that account1 and which is conciliatory with the sentiment of his liberty only--that this prescription1 say ,i1 took the appearance of a foreign law1 a positive law1 an appearance which could hardly lessen the radical tendency which we impute to man to react against the law8 ,it is certainly not an advantage for moral truth to have against itself sentiments which man can avow without shame4 ,thus1 how can the sentiment of the beautiful1 the sentiment of liberty1 accord with the austere mind of a legislation which governs man rather through fear than trust1 which tends constantly to separate that which nature has united1 and which is reduced to hold us in defiance against a part of our being1 to assure its empire over the rest8 ,human nature forms a whole more united in reality than it is permitted to the philosopher1 who can only analyze1 to allow it to appear4 ,the reason can never reject as unworthy of it the affections which the heart recognizes with joy2 and there1 where man would be morally fallen1 he can hardly rise in his own esteem4 ,if in the moral order the sensuous nature were only the oppressed party and not an ally1 how could it associate with all the ardor of its sentiments in a triumph which would be celebrated only over itself8 how could it be so keen a participator in the satisfaction of a pure spirit having consciousness of itself1 if in the end it could not attach itself to the pure spirit with such closeness that it is not possible even to intellectual analysis to separate it without violence4 ,the will1 besides1 is in more immediate relation with the faculty of feeling than with the cognitive faculties1 and it would be regrettable in many circumstances if it were obliged1 in order to guide itself1 to take advice of pure reason4 ,i prejudge nothing good of a man who dares so little trust to the voice of instinct that he is obliged each time to make it appear first before the moral law2 he is much more estimable who abandons himself with a certain security to inclination1 without having to fear being led astray by her4 ,that proves in fact that with him the two principles are already in harmony--in that harmony which places a seat upon the perfection of the human being1 and which constitutes that which we understand by a noble soul4 ,it is said of a man that he has a great soul when the moral sense has finished assuring itself of all the affections1 to the extent of abandoning without fear the direction of the senses to the will1 and never incurring the risk of finding himself in discord with its decisions4 ,it follows that in a noble soul it is not this or that particular action1 it is the entire character which is moral4 ,thus we can make a merit of none of its actions because the satisfaction of an instinct could not be meritorious4 ,a noble soul has no other merit than to be a noble soul4 ,with as great a facility as if the instinct alone were acting1 it accomplishes the most painful duties of humanity1 and the most heroic sacrifice that she obtains over the instinct of nature seems the effect of the free action of the instinct itself4 ,also1 it has no idea of the beauty of its act1 and it never occurs to it that any other way of acting could be possible2 on the contrary1 the moralist formed by the school and by rule1 is always ready at the first question of the master to give an account with the most rigorous precision of the conformity of its acts with the moral law4 ,the life of this one is like a drawing where the pencil has indicated by harsh and stiff lines all that the rule demands1 and which could1 if necessary1 serve for a student to learn the elements of art4 ,the life of a noble soul1 on the contrary1 is like a painting of ,titian2 all the harsh outlines are effaced1 which does not prevent the whole face being more true1 lifelike and harmonious4 ,it is then in a noble soul that is found the true harmony between reason and sense1 between inclination and duty1 and grace is the expression of this harmony in the sensuous world4 ,it is only in the service of a noble soul that nature can at the same time be in possession of its liberty1 and preserve from all alteration the beauty of its forms2 for the one1 its liberty would be compromised under the tyranny of an austere soul1 the other1 under the anarchical regimen of sensuousness4 ,a noble soul spreads even over a face in which the architectonic beauty is wanting an irresistible grace1 and often even triumphs over the natural disfavor4 ,all the movements which proceed from a noble soul are easy1 sweet1 and yet animated4 ,the eye beams with serenity as with liberty1 and with the brightness of sentiment2 gentleness of heart would naturally give to the mouth a grace that no affectation1 no art1 could attain4 ,you trace there no effort in the varied play of the physiognomy1 no constraint in the voluntary movements--a noble soul knows not constraint2 the voice becomes music1 and the limpid stream of its modulations touches the heart4 ,the beauty of structure can excite pleasure1 admiration1 astonishment2 grace alone can charm4 ,beauty has its adorers2 grace alone has its lovers3 for we pay our homage to the ,creator1 and we love man4 ,as a whole1 grace would be met with especially amongst women2 beauty1 on the contrary1 is met with more frequently in man1 and we need not go far without finding the reason4 ,for grace we require the union of bodily structure1 as well as that of character3 the body1 by its suppleness1 by its promptitude to receive impressions and to bring them into action2 the character1 by the moral harmony of the sentiments4 ,upon these two points nature has been more favorable to the woman than to man4 ,the more delicate structure of the woman receives more rapidly each impression and allows it to escape as rapidly4 ,it requires a storm to shake a strong constitution1 and when vigorous muscles begin to move we should not find the ease which is one of the conditions of grace4 ,that which upon the face of woman is still a beautiful sensation would express suffering already upon the face of man4 ,woman has the more tender nerves2 it is a reed which bends under the gentlest breath of passion4 ,the soul glides in soft and amiable ripples upon her expressive face1 which soon regains the calm and smooth surface of the mirror4 ,the same also for the character3 for that necessary union of the soul with grace the woman is more happily gifted than man4 ,the character of woman rises rarely to the supreme ideal of moral purity1 and would rarely go beyond acts of affection2 her character would often resist sensuousness with heroic force4 ,precisely because the moral nature of woman is generally on the side of inclination1 the effect becomes the same1 in that which touches the sensuous expression of this moral state1 as if the inclination were on the side of duty4 ,thus grace would be the expression of feminine virtue1 and this expression would often be wanting in manly virtue4 ,,on ,,dignity4 ,as grace is the expression of a noble soul1 so is dignity the expression of elevated feeling4 ,it has been prescribed to man1 it is true1 to establish between his two natures a unison1 to form always an harmonious whole1 and to act as in union with his entire humanity4 ,but this beauty of character1 this last fruit of human maturity1 is but an ideal to which he ought to force his conformity with a constant vigilance1 but to which1 with all his efforts1 he can never attain4 ,he cannot attain to it because his nature is thus made and it will not change2 the physical conditions of his existence themselves are opposed to it4 ,in fact1 his existence1 so far as he is a sensuous creature1 depends on certain physical conditions2 and in order to insure this existence man ought--because1 in his quality of a free being1 capable of determining his modifications by his own will--to watch over his own preservation himself4 ,man ought to be made capable of certain acts in order to fulfil these physical conditions of his existence1 and when these conditions are out of order to re-establish them4 ,but although nature had to give up to him this care which she reserves exclusively to herself in those creatures which have only a vegetative life1 still it was necessary that the satisfaction of so essential a want1 in which even the existence of the individual and of the species is interested1 should not be absolutely left to the discretion of man1 and his doubtful foresight4 ,it has then provided for this interest1 which in the foundation concerns it1 and it has also interfered with regard to the form in placing in the determination of free arbitration a principle of necessity4 ,from that arises natural instinct1 which is nothing else than a principle of physical necessity which acts upon free arbitration by the means of sensation4 ,the natural instinct solicits the sensuous faculty through the combined force of pain and of pleasure3 by pain when it asks satisfaction1 and by pleasure when it has found what it asks4 ,as there is no bargaining possible with physical necessity1 man must also1 in spite of his liberty1 feel what nature desires him to feel4 ,according as it awakens in him a painful or an agreeable sensation1 there will infallibly result in him either aversion or desire4 ,upon this point man quite resembles the brute2 and the stoic1 whatever his power of soul1 is not less sensible of hunger1 and has no less aversion to it1 than the worm that crawls at his feet4 ,but here begins the great difference3 with the lower creature action succeeds to desire or aversion quite as of necessity1 as the desire to the sensation1 and the expression to the external impression4 ,it is here a perpetual circle1 a chain1 the links of which necessarily join one to the other4 ,with man there is one more force--the will1 which1 as a super-sensuous faculty1 is not so subject to the law of nature1 nor that of reason1 that he remains without freedom to choose1 and to guide himself according to this or to that4 ,the animal cannot do otherwise than seek to free itself from pain2 man can decide to suffer4 ,the will of man is a privilege1 a sublime idea1 even when we do not consider the moral use that he can make of it4 ,but firstly1 the animal nature must be in abeyance before approaching the other1 and from that cause it is always a considerable step towards reaching the moral emancipation of the will to have conquered in us the necessity of nature1 even in indifferent things1 by the exercise in us of the simple will4 ,the jurisdiction of nature extends as far as the will1 but there it stops1 and the empire of reason commences4 ,placed between these two jurisdictions1 the will is absolutely free to receive the law from one and the other2 but it is not in the same relation with one and the other4 ,inasmuch as it is a natural force it is equally free with regard to nature and with respect to reason2 ,i mean to say it is not forced to pass either on the side of one or of the other3 but as far as it is a moral faculty it is not free2 ,i mean that it ought to choose the law of reason4 ,it is not chained to one or the other1 but it is obliged towards the law of reason4 ,the will really then makes use of its liberty even whilst it acts contrary to reason3 but it makes use of it unworthily1 because1 notwithstanding its liberty1 it is no less under the jurisdiction of nature1 and adds no real action to the operation of pure instinct2 for to will by virtue of desire is only to desire in a different way4 ,there may be conflict between the law of nature1 which works in us through the instinct1 and the law of reason1 which comes out of principles1 when the instinct1 to satisfy itself1 demands of us an action which disgusts our moral sense4 ,it is1 then1 the duty of the will to make the exigencies of the instinct give way to reason4 ,whilst the laws of nature oblige the will only conditionally1 the laws of reason oblige absolutely and without conditions4 ,but nature obstinately maintains her rights1 and as it is never by the result of free choice that she solicits us1 she also does not withdraw any of her exigencies as long as she has not been satisfied4 ,since1 from the first cause which gave the impulsion to the threshold of the will where its jurisdiction ends1 all in her is rigorously necessary1 consequently she can neither give way nor go back1 but must always go forward and press more and more the will on which depends the satisfaction of her wants4 ,sometimes1 it is true1 we could say that nature shortens her road and acts immediately as a cause for the satisfaction of her needs without having in the first instance carried her request before the will4 ,in such a case1 that is to say1 if man not simply allowed instinct to follow a free course1 but if instinct took this course of itself1 man would be no more than the brute4 ,but it is very doubtful whether this case would ever present itself1 and if ever it were really presented it would remain to be seen whether we should not blame the will itself for this blind power which the instinct would have usurped4 ,thus the appetitive faculty claims with persistence the satisfaction of its wants1 and the will is solicited to procure it2 but the will should receive from the reason the motives by which she determines4 ,what does the reason permit8 ,what does she prescribe8 ,this is what the will should decide upon4 ,well1 then1 if the will turns towards the reason before consenting to the request of the instinct1 it is properly a moral act2 but if it immediately decides1 without consulting the reason1 it is a physical act4 ,every time1 then1 that nature manifests an exigence and seeks to draw the will along with it by the blind violence of affective movement1 it is the duty of the will to order nature to halt until reason has pronounced4 ,the sentence which reason pronounces1 will it be favorable or the contrary to the interest of sensuousness8 ,this is1 up to the present time1 what the will does not know4 ,also it should observe this conduct for all the affective movements without exception1 and when it is nature which has spoken the first1 never allow it to act as an immediate cause4 ,man would testify only by that to his independence4 ,it is when1 by an act of his will1 he breaks the violence of his desires1 which hasten towards the object which should satisfy them1 and would dispense entirely with the co-operation of the will1--it is only then that he reveals himself in quality of a moral being1 that is to say1 as a free agent1 which does not only allow itself to experience either aversion or desire1 but which at all times must will his aversions and his desires4 ,but this act of taking previously the advice of reason is already an attempt against nature1 who is a competent judge in her own cause1 and who will not allow her sentences to be submitted to a new and strange jurisdiction2 this act of the will which thus brings the appetitive faculty before the tribunal of reason is then1 in the proper acceptation of the word1 an act against nature1 in that it renders accidental that which is necessary1 in that it attributes to the laws of reason the right to decide in a cause where the laws of nature can alone pronounce1 and where they have pronounced effectively4 ,just1 in fact1 as the reason in the exercise of its moral jurisdiction is little troubled to know if the decisions it can come to will satisfy or not the sensuous nature1 so the sensuous in the exercise of the right which is proper to it does not trouble itself whether its decisions would satisfy pure reason or not4 ,each is equally necessary1 though different in necessity1 and this character of necessity would be destroyed if it were permitted for one to modify arbitrarily the decisions of the other4 ,this is why the man who has the most moral energy cannot1 whatever resistance he opposes to instinct1 free himself from sensuousness1 or stifle desire1 but can only deny it an influence upon the decisions of his will2 he can disarm instinct by moral means1 but he cannot appease it but by natural means4 ,by his independent force he may prevent the laws of nature from exercising any constraint over his will1 but he can absolutely change nothing of the laws themselves4 ,thus in the affective movements in which nature 7instinct7 acts the first and seeks to do without the will1 or to draw it violently to its side1 the morality of character cannot manifest itself but by its resistance1 and there is but one means of preventing the instinct from restraining the liberty of the will3 it is to restrain the instinct itself4 ,thus we can only have agreement between the law of reason and the affective phenomena1 under the condition of putting both in discord with the exigencies of instinct4 ,and as nature never gives way to moral reasons1 and recalls her claims1 and as on her side1 consequently1 all remains in the same state1 in whatever manner the will acts towards her1 it results that there is no possible accord between the inclination and duty1 between reason and sense2 and that here man cannot act at the same time with all his being and with all the harmony of his nature1 but exclusively with his reasonable nature4 ,thus in these sorts of actions we could not find moral beauty1 because an action is morally good only as far as inclination has taken part in it1 and here the inclination protests against much more than it concurs with it4 ,but these actions have moral grandeur1 because all that testifies to a preponderating authority exercised over the sensuous nature has grandeur1 and grandeur is found only there4 ,it is1 then1 in the affective movements that this great soul of which we speak transforms itself and becomes sublime2 and it is the touchstone to distinguish the soul truly great from what is called a good heart1 or from the virtue of temperament4 ,when in man the inclination is ranged on the side of morality only because morality itself is happily on the side of inclination1 it will happen that the instinct of nature in the affective movements will exercise upon the will a full empire1 and if a sacrifice is necessary it is the moral nature1 and not the sensuous nature1 that will make it4 ,if1 on the contrary1 it is reason itself which has made the inclination pass to the side of duty 7which is the case in the fine character71 and which has only confided the rudder to the sensuous nature1 it will be always able to retake it as soon as the instinct should misuse its full powers4 ,thus the virtue of temperament in the affective movements falls back to the state of simple production of nature1 whilst the noble soul passes to heroism and rises to the rank of pure intelligence4 ,the rule over the instincts by moral force is the emancipation of mind1 and the expression by which this independence presents itself to the eyes in the world of phenomena is what is called dignity4 ,to consider this rigorously3 the moral force in man is susceptible of no representation1 for the super-sensuous could not explain itself by a phenomenon that falls under the sense2 but it can be represented indirectly to the mind by sensuous signs1 and this is actually the case with dignity in the configuration of man4 ,when the instinct of nature is excited1 it is accompanied just as the heart in its moral emotions is1 by certain movements of the body1 which sometimes go before the will1 sometimes1 even as movements purely sympathetic1 escape altogether its empire4 ,in fact1 as neither sensation1 nor the desire1 nor aversion1 are subject to the free arbitration of man1 man has no right over the physical movements which immediately depend on it4 ,but the instinct does not confine itself to simple desire2 it presses1 it advances1 it endeavors to realize its object2 and if it does not meet in the autonomy of the mind an energetic resistance1 it will even anticipate it1 it will itself take the initiative of those sorts of acts over which the will alone has the right to pronounce4 ,for the instinct of conservation tends without ceasing to usurp the legislative powers in the domain of the will1 and its efforts go to exercise over man a domination as absolute as over the beast4 ,there are1 then1 two sorts of distinct movements1 which1 in themselves and by their origin1 in each affective phenomenon1 arise in man by the instinct of conservation3 those firstly which immediately proceed from sensation1 and which1 consequently1 are quite involuntary2 then those which in principle could and would be voluntary1 but from which the blind instinct of nature takes all freedom4 ,the first refer to the affection itself1 and are united necessarily with it2 the others respond rather to the cause and to the object of the affections1 and are thus accidental and susceptible of modification1 and cannot be mistaken for infallible signs of the affective phenomena4 ,but as both one and the other1 when once the object is determined1 are equally necessary to the instinct of nature1 so they assist1 both one and the other1 the expression of affective phenomena2 a necessary competition1 in order that the expression should be complete and form a harmonious whole4 ,if1 then1 the will is sufficiently independent to repress the aggressions of instinct and to maintain its rights against this blind force1 all the phenomena which the instinct of nature1 once excited1 produce1 in its proper domain1 will preserve1 it is true1 their force2 but those of the second kind1 those which came out of a foreign jurisdiction1 and which it pretended to subject arbitrarily to its power1 these phenomena would not take place4 ,thus the phenomena are no longer in harmony2 but it is precisely in their opposition that consists the expression of the moral force4 ,suppose that we see a man a prey to the most poignant affection1 manifested by movements of the first kind1 by quite involuntary movements4 ,his veins swell1 his muscles contract convulsively1 his voice is stifled1 his chest is raised and projects1 whilst the lower portion of the torso is sunken and compressed2 but at the same time the voluntary movements are soft1 the features of the face free1 and serenity beams forth from the brow and in the look4 ,if man were only a physical being1 all his traits1 being determined only by one and the same principle1 would be in unison one with the other1 and would have a similar expression4 ,here1 for example1 they would unite in expressing exclusively suffering2 but as those traits which express calmness are mixed up with those which express suffering1 and as similar causes do not produce opposite effects1 we must recognize in this contrast the presence and the action of a moral force1 independent of the passive affections1 and superior to the impressions beneath which we see sensuous nature give way4 ,and this is why calmness under suffering1 in which properly consists dignity1 becomes--indirectly1 it is true1 and by means of reasoning--a representation of the pure intelligence which is in man1 and an expression of his moral liberty4 ,but it is not only under suffering1 in the restricted sense of the word1 in the sense in which it marks only the painful affections1 but generally in all the cases in which the appetitive faculty is strongly interested1 that mind ought to show its liberty1 and that dignity ought to be the dominant expression4 ,dignity is not less required in the agreeable affections than in the painful affections1 because in both cases nature would willingly play the part of master1 and has to be held in check by the will4 ,dignity relates to the form and not to the nature of the affection1 and this is why it can be possible that often an affection1 praiseworthy in the main1 but one to which we blindly commit ourselves1 degenerates1 from the want of dignity1 into vulgarity and baseness2 and1 on the contrary1 a condemnable affection1 as soon as it testifies by its form to the empire of the mind over the senses1 changes often its character and approaches even towards the sublime4 ,thus in dignity the mind reigns over the body and bears itself as ruler3 here it has its independence to defend against imperious impulse1 always ready to do without it1 to act and shake off its yoke4 ,but in grace1 on the contrary1 the mind governs with a liberal government1 for here the mind itself causes sensuous nature to act1 and it finds no resistance to overcome4 ,but obedience only merits forbearance1 and severity is only justifiable when provoked by opposition4 ,thus grace is nothing else than the liberty of voluntary movements1 and dignity consists in mastering involuntary movements4 ,grace leaves to sensuous nature1 where it obeys the orders of the mind1 a certain air of independence2 dignity1 on the contrary1 submits the sensuous nature to mind where it would make the pretensions to rule2 wherever instinct takes the initiative and allows itself to trespass upon the attributes of the will1 the will must show it no indulgence1 but it must testify to its own independence 7autonomy71 in opposing to it the most energetic resistance4 ,if1 on the contrary1 it is the will that commences1 and if instinct does but follow it1 the free arbitration has no longer to display any rigor1 now it must show indulgence4 ,such is in a few words the law which ought to regulate the relation of the two natures of man in what regards the expression of this relation in the world of phenomena4 ,it follows that dignity is required1 and is seen particularly in passive affection1 whilst grace is shown in the conduct1 for it is only in suffering that the liberty of the soul can be manifested1 and only in action that the liberty of the body can be displayed4 ,if dignity is an expression of resistance opposed to instinct by moral liberty1 and if the instinct consequently ought to be considered as a force that renders resistance necessary1 it follows that dignity is ridiculous where you have no force of this kind to resist1 and contemptible where there ought not to be any such force to combat4 ,we laugh at a comedian1 whatever rank or condition he may occupy1 who even in indifferent actions affects dignity4 ,we despise those small souls who1 for having accomplished an ordinary action1 and often for having simply abstained from a base one1 plume themselves on their dignity4 ,generally1 what is demanded of virtue is not properly speaking dignity1 but grace4 ,dignity is implicitly contained in the idea of virtue1 which even by its nature supposes already the rule of man over his instincts4 ,it is rather sensuous nature that1 in the fulfilment of moral duties1 is found in a state of oppression and constraint1 particularly when it consummates in a painful sacrifice4 ,but as the ideal of perfection in man does not require a struggle1 but harmony between the moral and physical nature1 this ideal is little compatible with dignity1 which is only the expression of a struggle between the two natures1 and as such renders visible either the particular impotence of the individual1 or the impotence common to the species4 ,in the first case1 when the want of harmony between inclination and duty1 with regard to a moral act1 belongs to the particular powerlessness of the subject1 the act would always lose its moral value1 in as far as that combat is necessary1 and1 in consequence1 proportionally as there would be dignity in the exterior expression of this act2 for our moral judgment connects each individual with the common measure of the species1 and we do not allow man to be stopped by other limits than those of human nature4 ,in the second case1 when the action commanded by duty cannot be placed in harmony with the exigencies of instinct without going against the idea of human nature1 the resistance of the inclination is necessary1 and then only the sight of the combat can convince us of the possibility of victory4 ,thus we ask here of the features and attitudes an expression of this interior struggle1 not being able to take upon ourselves to believe in virtue where there is no trace of humanity4 ,where then the moral law commands of us an action which necessarily makes the sensuous nature suffer1 there the matter is serious1 and ought not to be treated as play2 ease and lightness in accomplishing this act would be much more likely to revolt us than to satisfy us2 and thus1 in consequence1 expression is no longer grace1 but dignity4 ,in general1 the law which prevails here is1 that man ought to accomplish with grace all the acts that he can execute in the sphere of human nature2 and with dignity all those for the accomplishment of which he is obliged to go beyond his nature4 ,in like manner as we ask of virtue to have grace1 we ask of inclination to have dignity4 ,grace is not less natural to inclination than dignity to virtue1 and that is evident from the idea of grace1 which is all sensuous and favorable to the liberty of physical nature1 and which is repugnant to all idea of constraint4 ,the man without cultivation lacks not by himself a certain degree of grace1 when love or any other affection of this kind animates him2 and where do we find more grace than in children1 who are nevertheless entirely under the direction of instinct4 ,the danger is rather that inclination should end by making the state of passion the dominant one1 stifling the independence of mind1 and bringing about a general relaxation4 ,therefore in order to conciliate the esteem of a noble sentiment--esteem can only be inspired by that which proceeds from a moral source--the inclination must always be accompanied by dignity4 ,it is for that reason a person in love desires to find dignity in the object of this passion4 ,dignity alone is the warrant that it is not need which has forced1 but free choice which has chosen1 that he is not desired as a thing1 but esteemed as a person4 ,we require grace of him who obliges1 dignity of the person obliged3 the first1 to set aside an advantage which he has over the other1 and which might wound1 ought to give to his actions1 though his decision may have been disinterested1 the character of an affective movement1 that thus1 from the part which he allows inclination to take1 he may have the appearance of being the one who gains the most3 the second1 not to compromise by the dependence in which he put himself the honor of humanity1 of which liberty is the saintly palladium1 ought to raise what is only a pure movement of instinct to the height of an act of the will1 and in this manner1 at the moment when he receives a favor1 return in a certain sense another favor4 ,we must censure with grace1 and own our faults with dignity3 to put dignity into our remonstrances is to have the air of a man too penetrated by his own advantage3 to put grace into our confessions is to forget the inferiority in which our fault has placed us4 ,do the powerful desire to conciliate affection8 ,their superiority must be tempered by grace4 ,the feeble1 do they desire to conciliate esteem8 ,they must through dignity rise above their powerlessness4 ,generally it is thought that dignity is suitable to the throne1 and every one knows that those seated upon it desire to find in their councillors1 their confessors1 and in their parliaments--grace4 ,but that which may be good and praiseworthy in a kingdom is not so always in the domain of taste4 ,the prince himself enters into this domain as soon as he descends from his throne 7for thrones have their privileges71 and the crouching courtier places himself under the saintly and free probation of this law as soon as he stands erect and becomes again a man4 ,the first we would counsel to supplement from the superfluity of the second that which he himself needs1 and to give him as much of his dignity as he requires to borrow grace from him4 ,although dignity and grace have each their proper domain in which they are manifest1 they do not exclude each other4 ,they can be met with in the same person1 and even in the same state of that person4 ,further1 it is grace alone which guarantees and accredits dignity1 and dignity alone can give value to grace4 ,dignity alone1 wherever met with1 testifies that the desires and inclinations are restrained within certain limits4 ,but what we take for a force which moderates and rules1 may it not be rather an obliteration of the faculty of feeling 7hardness78 ,is it really the moral autonomy1 and may it not be rather the preponderance of another affection1 and in consequence a voluntary interested effort that restrains the outburst of the present affection8 ,this is what grace alone can put out of doubt in joining itself to dignity4 ,it is grace1 ,i mean to say1 that testifies to a peaceful soul in harmony with itself and a feeling heart4 ,in like manner grace by itself shows a certain susceptibility of the feeling faculty1 and a certain harmony of sentiment4 ,but may this not be a certain relaxation of the mind which allows so much liberty to sensuous nature and which opens the heart to all impressions8 ,is it indeed the moral which has established this harmony between the sentiments8 ,it is dignity alone which can in its turn guarantee this to us in joining itself to grace2 ,i mean it is dignity alone which attests in the subject an independent force1 and at the moment when the will represses the license of involuntary movement1 it is by dignity that it makes known that the liberty of voluntary movements is a simple concession on its part4 ,if grace and dignity1 still supported1 the one by architectonic beauty and the other by force1 were united in the same person1 the expression of human nature would be accomplished in him3 such a person would be justified in the spiritual world and set at liberty in the sensuous world4 ,here the two domains touch so closely that their limits are indistinguishable4 ,the smile that plays on the lips2 this sweetly animated look2 that serenity spread over the brow--it is the liberty of the reason which gleams forth in a softened light4 ,this noble majesty impressed on the face is the sublime adieu of the necessity of nature1 which disappears before the mind4 ,such is the ideal of human beauty according to which the antique conceptions were formed1 and we see it in the divine forms of a ,niobe1 of the ,apollo ,belvedere1 in the winged ,genius of the ,borghese1 and in the ,muse of the ,barberini palace4 ,there1 where grace and dignity are united1 we experience by turns attraction and repulsion2 attraction as spiritual creatures1 and repulsion as being sensuous creatures4 ,dignity offers to us an example of subordination of sensuous nature to moral nature--an example which we are bound to imitate1 but which at the same time goes beyond the measure of our sensuous faculty4 ,this opposition between the instincts of nature and the exigencies of the moral law1 exigencies1 however1 that we recognize as legitimate1 brings our feelings into play and awakens a sentiment that we name esteem1 which is inseparable from dignity4 ,with grace1 on the contrary1 as with beauty in general1 reason finds its demands satisfied in the world of sense1 and sees with surprise one of its own ideas presented to it1 realized in the world of phenomena4 ,this unexpected encounter between the accident of nature and the necessity of reason awakens in us a sentiment of joyous approval 7contentment7 which calms the senses1 but which animates and occupies the mind1 and it results necessarily that we are attracted by a charm towards the sensuous object4 ,it is this attraction which we call kindliness1 or love--a sentiment inseparable from grace and beauty4 ,the attraction--,i mean the attraction 7stimulus7 not of love but of voluptuousness--proposes to the senses a sensuous object that promises to these the satisfaction of a want1 that is to say a pleasure2 the senses are consequently solicited towards this sensuous object1 and from that springs desire1 a sentiment which increases and excites the sensuous nature1 but which1 on the contrary1 relaxes the spiritual nature4 ,we can say of esteem that it inclines towards its object2 of love1 that it approaches with inclination towards its object2 of desire1 that it precipitates itself upon its object2 with esteem1 the object is reason1 and the subject is sensuous nature2 with love1 the object is sensuous1 and the subject is moral nature2 with desire1 the object and the subject are purely sensuous4 ,with love alone is sentiment free1 because it is pure in its principle1 and because it draws its source from the seat of liberty1 from the breast of our divine nature4 ,here1 it is not the weak and base part of our nature that measures itself with the greater and more noble part2 it is not the sensibility1 a prey to vertigo1 which gazes up at the law of reason4 ,it is absolute greatness which is reflected in beauty and in grace1 and satisfied in morality2 it becomes the legislator even1 the god in us who plays with his own image in the world of sense4 ,thus love consoles and dilates the heart1 whilst esteem strains it2 because here there is nothing which could limit the heart and compress its impulses1 there being nothing higher than absolute greatness2 and sensibility1 from which alone hinderance could come1 is reconciled1 in the breast of beauty and of grace1 with the ideas even of the mind4 ,love has but to descend2 esteem aspires with effort towards an object placed above it4 ,this is the reason that the wicked love nothing1 though they are obliged to esteem many things4 ,this is why the well-disposed man can hardly esteem without at once feeling love for the object4 ,pure spirit can only love1 but not esteem2 the senses know only esteem1 but not love4 ,the culpable man is perpetually a prey to fear1 that he may meet in the world of sense the legislator within himself2 and sees an enemy in all that bears the stamp of greatness1 of beauty1 and of perfection3 the man1 on the contrary1 in whom a noble soul breathes1 knows no greater pleasure than to meet out of himself the image or realization of the divine that is in him2 and to embrace in the world of sense a symbol of the immortal friend he loves4 ,love is at the same time the most generous and the most egotistical thing in nature2 the most generous1 because it receives nothing and gives all--pure mind being only able to give and not receive2 the most egotistical1 for that which he seeks in the subject1 that which he enjoys in it1 is himself and never anything else4 ,but precisely because he who loves receives from the beloved object nothing but that which he has himself given1 it often happens that he gives more than he has received4 ,the exterior senses believe to have discovered in the object that which the internal sense alone contemplates in it1 in the end believing what is desired with ardor1 and the riches belonging to the one who loves hide the poverty of the object loved4 ,this is the reason why love is subject to illusion1 whilst esteem and desire are never deceived4 ,as long as the super-excitement of the internal senses overcomes the internal senses1 the soul remains under the charm of this ,platonic love1 which gives place only in duration to the delights enjoyed by the immortals4 ,but as soon as internal sense ceases to share its visions with the exterior sense1 these take possession of their rights and imperiously demand that which is its due--matter4 ,it is the terrestrial ,venus who profits by the fire kindled by the celestial ,venus1 and it is not rare to find the physical instinct1 so long sacrificed1 revenge itself by a rule all the more absolute4 ,as external sense is never a dupe to illusion1 it makes this advantage felt with a brutal insolence over its noble rival2 and it possesses audacity to the point of asserting that it has settled an account that the spiritual nature had left under sufferance4 ,dignity prevents love from degenerating into desire1 and grace1 from esteem turning into fear4 ,true beauty1 true grace1 ought never to cause desire4 ,where desire is mingled1 either the object wants dignity1 or he who considers it wants morality in his sentiments4 ,true greatness ought never to cause fear4 ,if fear finds a place1 you may hold for certain either that the object is wanting in taste and grace1 or that he who considers it is not at peace with his conscience4 ,attraction1 charm1 grace3 words commonly employed as synonyms1 but which are not1 or ought not to be so1 the idea they express being capable of many determinations1 requiring different designations4 ,there is a kind of grace which animates1 and another which calms the heart4 ,one touches nearly the sphere of the senses1 and the pleasure which is found in these1 if not restrained by dignity1 would easily degenerate into concupiscence2 we may use the word attraction ,reiz to designate this grace4 ,a man with whom the feelings have little elasticity does not find in himself the necessary force to awaken his affections3 he needs to borrow it from without and to seek from impressions which easily exercise the phantasy1 by rapid transition from sentiment to action1 in order to establish in himself the elasticity he had lost4 ,it is the advantage that he will find in the society of an attractive person1 who by conversation and look would stir his imagination and agitate this stagnant water4 ,the calming grace approaches more nearly to dignity1 inasmuch as it manifests itself through the moderation which it imposes upon the impetuosity of the movements4 ,it is to this the man addresses himself whose imagination is over-excited2 it is in this peaceful atmosphere that the heart seeks repose after the violence of the storm4 ,it is to this that ,i reserve especially the appellation of grace4 ,attraction is not incompatible with laughter1 jest1 or the sting of raillery2 grace agrees only with sympathy and love4 ,dignity has also its degrees and its shades4 ,if it approaches grace and beauty1 it takes the name of nobleness2 if1 on the contrary1 it inclines towards the side of fear1 it becomes haughtiness4 ,the utmost degree of grace is ravishing charm4 ,dignity1 in its highest form1 is called majesty4 ,in the ravishing we love our ,ego1 and we feel our being fused with the object4 ,liberty in its plenitude and in its highest enjoyment tends to the complete destruction of liberty1 and the excitement of the mind to the delirium of the voluptuousness of the senses4 ,majesty1 on the contrary1 proposes to us a law1 a moral ideal1 which constrains us to turn back our looks upon ourselves4 ,god is there1 and the sentiment we have of ,his presence makes us bend our eyes upon the ground4 ,we forget all that is without ourselves1 and we feel but the heavy burden of our own existence4 ,majesty belongs to what is holy4 ,a man capable of giving us an idea of holiness possesses majesty1 and if we do not go so far as to kneel1 our mind at least prostrates itself before him4 ,but the mind recoils at once upon the slightest trace of human imperfection which he discovers in the object of his adoration1 because that which is only comparatively great cannot subdue the heart4 ,power alone1 however terrible or without limit we may suppose it to be1 can never confer majesty4 ,power imposes only upon the sensuous being2 majesty should act upon the mind itself1 and rob it of its liberty4 ,a man who can pronounce upon me a sentence of death has neither more nor less of majesty for me the moment ,i am what ,i ought to be4 ,his advantage over me ceases as soon as ,i insist on it4 ,but he who offers to me in his person the image of pure will1 before him ,i would prostrate myself1 if it is possible1 for all eternity4 ,grace and dignity are too high in value for vanity and stupidity not to be excited to appropriate them by imitation4 ,there is only one means of attaining this3 it is to imitate the moral state of which they are the expression4 ,all other imitation is but to ape them1 and would be recognized directly through exaggeration4 ,just as exaggeration of the sublime leads to inflation1 and affectation of nobleness to preciosity1 in the same manner affectation of grace ends in coquetry1 and that of dignity to stiff solemnity1 false gravity4 ,there where true grace simply used ease and provenance1 affected grace becomes effeminacy4 ,one is content to use discreetly the voluntary movements1 and not thwart unnecessarily the liberty of nature2 the other has not even the heart to use properly the organs of will1 and1 not to fall into hardness and heaviness1 it prefers to sacrifice something of the aim of movement1 or else it seeks to reach it by cross ways and indirect means4 ,an awkward and stiff dancer expends as much force as if he had to work a windmill2 with his feet and arms he describes lines as angular as if he were tracing figures with geometrical precision2 the affected dancer1 on the other hand1 glides with an excess of delicacy1 as if he feared to injure himself on coming in contact with the ground1 and his feet and hands describe only lines in sinuous curves4 ,the other sex1 which is essentially in possession of true grace1 is also that one which is more frequently culpable of affected grace1 but this affectation is never more distasteful than when used as a bait to desire4 ,the smile of true grace thus gives place to the most repulsive grimace2 the fine play of look1 so ravishing when it displays a true sentiment1 is only contortion2 the melodious inflections of the voice1 an irresistible attraction from candid lips1 are only a vain cadence1 a tremulousness which savors of study3 in a word1 all the harmonious charms of woman become only deception1 an artifice of the toilet4 ,if we have many occasions to observe the affected grace in the theatre and in the ball-room1 there is also often occasion of studying the affected dignity in the cabinet of ministers and in the study-rooms of men of science 7notably at universities74 ,true dignity is content to prevent the domination of the affections1 to keep the instinct within just limits1 but there only where it pretends to be master in the involuntary movements2 false dignity regulates with an iron sceptre even the voluntary movements1 it oppresses the moral movements1 which were sacred to true dignity1 as well as the sensual movements1 and destroys all the mimic play of the features by which the soul gleams forth upon the face4 ,it arms itself not only against rebel nature1 but against submissive nature1 and ridiculously seeks its greatness in subjecting nature to its yoke1 or1 if this does not succeed1 in hiding it4 ,as if it had vowed hatred to all that is called nature1 it swathes the body in long1 heavy-plaited garments1 which hide the human structure2 it paralyzes the limbs in surcharging them with vain ornaments1 and goes even the length of cutting the hair to replace this gift of nature by an artificial production4 ,true dignity does not blush for nature1 but only for brute nature2 it always has an open and frank air2 feeling gleams in its look2 calm and serenity of mind is legible upon the brow in eloquent traits4 ,false gravity1 on the contrary1 places its dignity in the lines of its visage2 it is close1 mysterious1 and guards its features with the care of an actor2 all the muscles of its face are tormented1 all natural and true expression disappears1 and the entire man is like a sealed letter4 ,but false dignity is not always wrong to keep the mimic play of its features under sharp discipline1 because it might betray more than would be desired1 a precaution true dignity has not to consider4 ,true dignity wishes only to rule1 not to conceal nature2 in false dignity1 on the contrary1 nature rules the more powerfully within because it is controlled outwardly4 ,art can make use of a proper solemnity4 ,its object is only to prepare the mind for something important4 ,when the poet is anxious to produce a great impression he tunes the mind to receive it4 ,,on ,,the ,,necessary ,,limitations ,,in ,,the ,,use ,,of ,,beauty ,,of ,,form4 ,the abuse of the beautiful and the encroachments of imagination1 when1 having only the casting vote1 it seeks to grasp the law-giving sceptre1 has done great injury alike in life and in science4 ,it is therefore highly expedient to examine very closely the bounds that have been assigned to the use of beautiful forms4 ,these limits are embodied in the very nature of the beautiful1 and we have only to call to mind how taste expresses its influence to be able to determine how far it ought to extend it4 ,the following are the principal operations of taste2 to bring the sensuous and spiritual powers of man into harmony1 and to unite them in a close alliance4 ,consequently1 whenever such an intimate alliance between reason and the senses is suitable and legitimate1 taste may be allowed influence4 ,but taste reaches the bounds which it is not permitted to pass without defeating its end or removing us from our duty1 in all cases where the bond between mind and matter is given up for a time1 where we must act for the time as purely creatures of reason1 whether it be to attain an end or to perform a duty4 ,cases of this kind do really occur1 and they are even incumbent on us in carrying out our destiny4 ,for we are destined to obtain knowledge and to act from knowledge4 ,in both cases a certain readiness is required to exclude the senses from that which the spirit does1 because feelings must be abstracted from knowledge1 and passion or desire from every moral act of the will4 ,when we know1 we take up an active attitude1 and our attention is directed to an object1 to a relation between different representations4 ,when we feel1 we have a passive attitude1 and our attention--if we may call that so1 which is no conscious operation of the mind--is only directed to our own condition1 as far as it is modified by the impression received4 ,now1 as we only feel and do not know the beautiful1 we do not distinguish any relation between it and other objects1 we do not refer its representation to other representations1 but to ourselves who have experienced the impression4 ,we learn or experience nothing in the beautiful object1 but we perceive a change occasioned by it in our own condition1 of which the impression produced is the expression4 ,accordingly our knowledge is not enlarged by judgments of taste1 and no knowledge1 not even that of beauty1 is obtained by the feeling of beauty4 ,therefore1 when knowledge is the object1 taste can give us no help1 at least directly and immediately2 on the contrary1 knowledge is shut out as long as we are occupied with beauty4 ,but it may be objected1 ,what is the use then of a graceful embodiment of conceptions1 if the object of the discussion or treatise1 which is simply and solely to produce knowledge1 is rather hindered than benefited by ornament8 ,to convince the understanding this gracefulness of clothing can certainly avail as little as the tasteful arrangement of a banquet can satisfy the appetite of the guests1 or the outward elegance of a person can give a clue to his intrinsic worth4 ,but just as the appetite is excited by the beautiful arrangement of the table1 and attention is directed to the elegant person in question1 by the attractiveness of the exterior1 so also we are placed in a favorable attitude to receive truth by the charming representation given of it2 we are led to open our souls to its reception1 and the obstacles are removed from our minds which would have otherwise opposed the difficult pursuit of a long and strict concatenation of thought4 ,it is never the contents1 the substance1 that gains by the beauty of form2 nor is it the understanding that is helped by taste in the act of knowing4 ,the substance1 the contents1 must commend themselves to the understanding directly1 of themselves2 whilst the beautiful form speaks to the imagination1 and flatters it with an appearance of freedom4 ,but even further limitations are necessary in this innocent subserviency to the senses1 which is only allowed in the form1 without changing anything in the substance4 ,great moderation must be always used1 and sometimes the end in view may be completely defeated according to the kind of knowledge and degree of conviction aimed at in imparting our views to others4 ,there is a scientific knowledge1 which is based on clear conceptions and known principles2 and a popular knowledge1 which is founded on feelings more or less developed4 ,what may be very useful to the latter is quite possibly adverse to the former4 ,when the object in view is to produce a strict conviction on principles1 it is not sufficient to present the truth only in respect to its contents or subject2 the test of the truth must at the same time be contained in the manner of its presentation4 ,but this can mean nothing else than that not only the contents1 but also the mode of stating them1 must be according to the laws of thought4 ,they must be connected in the presentation with the same strict logical sequence with which they are chained together in the seasonings of the understanding2 the stability of the representation must guarantee that of the ideas4 ,but the strict necessity with which the understanding links together reasonings and conclusions1 is quite antagonistic to the freedom granted to imagination in matters of knowledge4 ,by its very nature1 the imagination strives after perceptions1 that is1 after complete and completely determinate representations1 and is indefatigably active to represent the universal in one single case1 to limit it in time and space1 to make of every conception an individual1 and to give a body to abstractions4 ,moreover1 the imagination likes freedom in its combinations1 and admits no other law in them than the accidental connection with time and space2 for this is the only connection that remains to our representations1 if we separate from them in thought all that is conception1 all that binds them internally and substantially together4 ,the understanding1 following a diametrically opposite course1 only occupies itself with part representations or conceptions1 and its effort is directed to distinguish features in the living unity of a perception4 ,the understanding proceeds on the same principles in putting together and taking to pieces1 but it can only combine things by part-representations1 just as it can separate them2 for it only unites1 according to their inner relations1 things that first disclosed themselves in their separation4 ,the understanding observes a strict necessity and conformity with laws in its combinations1 and it is only the consistent connection of ideas that satisfies it4 ,but this connection is destroyed as often as the imagination insinuates entire representations 7individual cases7 in this chain of abstractions1 and mixes up the accidents of time with the strict necessity of a chain of circumstances4 ,accordingly1 in every case where it is essential to carry out a rigidly accurate sequence of reasoning1 imagination must forego its capricious character2 and its endeavor to obtain all possible sensuousness in conceptions1 and all freedom in their combination1 must be made subordinate and sacrificed to the necessity of the understanding4 ,from this it follows that the exposition must be so fashioned as to overthrow this effort of the imagination by the exclusion of all that is individual and sensuous4 ,the poetic impulse of imagination must be curbed by distinctness of expression1 and its capricious tendency to combine must be limited by a strictly legitimate course of procedure4 ,i grant that it will not bend to this yoke without resistance2 but in this matter reliance is properly placed on a certain amount of self-denial1 and on an earnest determination of the hearer or reader not to be deterred by the difficulties accompanying the form1 for the sake of the subject-matter4 ,but in all cases where no sufficient dependence can be placed on this self-denial1 or where the interest felt in the subject-matter is insufficient to inspire courage for such an amount of exertion1 it is necessary to resign the idea of imparting strictly scientific knowledge2 and to gain instead greater latitude in the form of its presentation4 ,in such a case it is expedient to abandon the form of science1 which exercises too great violence over the imagination1 and can only be made acceptable through the importance of the object in view4 ,instead of this1 it is proper to choose the form of beauty1 which1 independent of the contents or subject1 recommends itself by its very appearance4 ,as the matter cannot excuse the form in this case1 the form must trespass on the matter4 ,popular instruction is compatible with this freedom4 ,by the term popular speakers or popular writers ,i imply all those who do not direct their remarks exclusively to the learned4 ,now1 as these persons do not address any carefully trained body of hearers or readers1 but take them as they find them1 they must only assume the existence of the general conditions of thought1 only the universal impulses that call attention1 but no special gift of thinking1 no acquaintance with distinct conceptions1 nor any interest in special subjects4 ,these lecturers and authors must not be too particular as to whether their audience or readers assign by their imagination a proper meaning to their abstractions1 or whether they will furnish a proper subject-matter for the universal conceptions to which the scientific discourse is limited4 ,in order to pursue a safer1 easier course1 these persons will present along with their ideas the perceptions and separate cases to which they relate1 and they leave it to the understanding of the reader to form a proper conception impromptu4 ,accordingly1 the faculty of imagination is much more mixed up with a popular discourse1 but only to reproduce1 to renew previously received representations1 and not to produce1 to express its own self-creating power4 ,those special cases or perceptions are much too certainly calculated for the object on hand1 and much too closely applied to the use that is to be made of them1 to allow the imagination ever to forget that it only acts in the service of the understanding4 ,it is true that a discourse of this popular kind holds somewhat closer to life and the world of sense1 but it does not become lost in it4 ,the mode of presenting the subject is still didactic2 for in order to be beautiful it is still wanting in the two most distinguished features of beauty1 sensuousness of expression and freedom of movement4 ,the mode of presenting a theme may be called free when the understanding1 while determining the connection of ideas1 does so with so little prominence that the imagination appears to act quite capriciously in the matter1 and to follow only the accident of time4 ,the presentation of a subject becomes sensuous when it conceals the general in the particular1 and when the fancy gives the living image 7the whole representation71 where attention is merely concerned with the conception 7the part representation74 ,accordingly1 sensuous presentation is1 viewed in one aspect1 rich1 for in cases where only one condition is desired1 a complete picture1 an entirety of conditions1 an individual is offered4 ,but viewed in another aspect it is limited and poor1 because it only confines to a single individual and a single case what ought to be understood of a whole sphere4 ,it therefore curtails the understanding in the same proportion that it grants preponderance to the imagination2 for the completer a representation is in substance1 the smaller it is in compass4 ,it is the interest of the imagination to change objects according to its caprice2 the interest of the understanding is to unite its representations with strict logical necessity4 ,to satisfy the imagination1 a discourse must have a material part1 a body2 and these are formed by the perceptions1 from which the understanding separates distinct features or conceptions4 ,for though we may attempt to obtain the highest pitch of abstraction1 something sensuous always lies at the ground of the thought4 ,but imagination strives to pass unfettered and lawless from one conception to another conception1 and seeks not to be bound by any other connection than that of time4 ,so when the perceptions that constitute the bodily part of a discourse have no concatenation as things1 when they appear rather to stand apart as independent limbs and separate unities1 when they betray the utter disorder of a sportive imagination1 obedient to itself alone1 then the clothing has aesthetic freedom and the wants of the fancy are satisfied4 ,a mode of presentation such as this might be styled an organic product1 in which not only the whole lives1 but also each part has its individual life4 ,a merely scientific presentation is a mechanical work1 when the parts1 lifeless in themselves1 impart by their connection an artificial life to the whole4 ,on the other hand1 a discourse1 in order to satisfy the understanding and to produce knowledge1 must have a spiritual part1 it must have significance1 and it receives this through the conceptions1 by means of which those perceptions are referred to one another and united into a whole4 ,the problem of satisfying the understanding by conformity with law1 while the imagination is flattered by being set free from restrictions1 is solved thus3 by obtaining the closest connection between the conceptions forming the spiritual part of the discourse1 while the perceptions1 corresponding to them and forming the sensuous part of the discourse1 appear to cohere merely through an arbitrary play of the fancy4 ,if an inquiry be instituted into the magic influence of a beautiful diction1 it will always be found that it consists in this happy relation between external freedom and internal necessity4 ,the principal features that contribute to this freedom of the imagination are the individualizing of objects and the figurative or inexact expression of a thing2 the former employed to give force to its sensuousness1 the latter to produce it where it does not exist4 ,when we express a species or kind by an individual1 and portray a conception in a single case1 we remove from fancy the chains which the understanding has placed upon her and give her the power to act as a creator4 ,always grasping at completely determinate images1 the imagination obtains and exercises the right to complete according to her wish the image afforded to her1 to animate it1 to fashion it1 to follow it in all the associations and transformations of which it is capable4 ,she may forget for a moment her subordinate position1 and act as an independent power1 only self-directing1 because the strictness of the inner concatenation has sufficiently guarded against her breaking loose from the control of the understanding4 ,an inexact or figurative expression adds to the liberty1 by associating ideas which in their nature differ essentially from one another1 but which unite in subordination to the higher idea4 ,the imagination adheres to the concrete object1 the understanding to this higher idea1 and thus the former finds movement and variety even where the other verifies a most perfect continuity4 ,the conceptions are developed according to the law of necessity1 but they pass before the imagination according to the law of liberty4 ,thought remains the same2 the medium that represents it is the only thing that changes4 ,it is thus that an eloquent writer knows how to extract the most splendid order from the very centre of anarchy1 and that he succeeds in erecting a solid structure on a constantly moving ground1 on the very torrent of imagination4 ,if we compare together scientific statement or address1 popular address1 and fine language1 it is seen directly that all three express the idea with an equal faithfulness as regards the matter1 and consequently that all three help us to acquire knowledge1 but that as regards the mode and degree of this knowledge a very marked difference exists between them4 ,the writer who uses the language of the beautiful rather represents the matter of which he treats as possible and desirable than indulges in attempts to convince us of its reality1 and still less of its necessity4 ,his thought does in fact only present itself as an arbitrary creation of the imagination1 which is never qualified1 in itself1 to guarantee the reality of what it represents4 ,no doubt the popular writer leads us to believe that the matter really is as he describes it1 but does not require anything more firm2 for1 though he may make the truth of a proposition credible to our feelings1 he does not make it absolutely certain4 ,now1 feeling may always teach us what is1 but not what must be4 ,the philosophical writer raises this belief to a conviction1 for he proves by undeniable reasons that the matter is necessarily so4 ,starting from the principle that we have just established1 it will not be difficult to assign its proper part and sphere to each of the three forms of diction4 ,generally it may be laid down as a rule that preference ought to be given to the scientific style whenever the chief consideration is not only the result1 but also the proofs4 ,but when the result merely is of the most essential importance the advantage must be given to popular elocution and fine language4 ,but it may be asked in what cases ought popular elocution to rise to a fine1 a noble style8 ,this depends on the degree of interest in the reader1 or which you wish to excite in his mind4 ,the purely scientific statement may incline either to popular discourse or to philosophic language1 and according to this bias it places us more or less in possession of some branch of knowledge4 ,all that popular elocution does is to lend us this knowledge for a momentary pleasure or enjoyment4 ,the first1 if ,i may be allowed the comparison1 gives us a tree with its roots1 though with the condition that we wait patiently for it to blossom and bear fruit4 ,the other1 or fine diction1 is satisfied with gathering its flowers and fruits1 but the tree that bore them does not become our property1 and when once the flowers are faded and the fruit is consumed our riches depart4 ,it would therefore be equally unreasonable to give only the flower and fruit to a man who wishes the whole tree to be transplanted into his garden1 and to offer the whole tree with its fruit in the germ to a man who only looks for the ripe fruit4 ,the application of the comparison is self-evident1 and ,i now only remark that a fine ornate style is as little suited to the professor's chair as the scholastic style to a drawing-room1 the pulpit1 or the bar4 ,the student accumulates in view of an ulterior end and for a future use2 accordingly the professor ought to endeavor to transmit the full and entire property of the knowledge that he communicates to him4 ,now1 nothing belongs to us as our own but what has been communicated to the understanding4 ,the orator1 on the other hand1 has in view an immediate end1 and his voice must correspond with an immediate want of the public4 ,his interest is to make his knowledge practically available as soon as possible2 and the surest way is to hand it over to the senses1 and to prepare it for the use of sensation4 ,the professor1 who only admits hearers on certain conditions1 and who is entitled to suppose in his hearers the dispositions of mind in which a man ought to be to receive the truth1 has only in view in his lecture the object of which he is treating2 while the orator1 who cannot make any conditions with his audience1 and who needs above everything sympathy1 to secure it on his side1 must regulate his action and treatment according to the subjects on which he turns his discourse4 ,the hearers of the professor have already attended his lectures1 and will attend them again2 they only want fragments that will form a whole after having been linked to the preceding lectures4 ,the audience of the orator is continually renewed2 it comes unprepared1 and perhaps will not return2 accordingly in every address the orator must finish what he wishes to do2 each of his harangues must form a whole and contain expressly and entirely his conclusion4 ,it is not therefore surprising that a dogmatic composition or address1 however solid1 should not have any success either in conversation or in the pulpit1 nor that a fine diction1 whatever wit it may contain1 should not bear fruit in a professor's chair4 ,it is not surprising that the fashionable world should not read writings that stand out in relief in the scientific world1 and that the scholar and the man of science are ignorant of works belonging to the school of worldly people that are devoured greedily by all lovers of the beautiful4 ,each of these works may be entitled to admiration in the circle to which it belongs2 and more than this1 both1 fundamentally1 may be quite of equal value2 but it would be requiring an impossibility to expect that the work which demands all the application of the thinker should at the same time offer an easy recreation to the man who is only a fine wit4 ,for the same reason ,i consider that it is hurtful to choose for the instruction of youth books in which scientific matters are clothed in an attractive style4 ,i do not speak here of those in which the substance is sacrificed to the form1 but of certain writings really excellent1 which are sufficiently well digested to stand the strictest examination1 but which do not offer their proofs by their very form4 ,no doubt books of this kind attain their end1 they are read2 but this is always at the cost of a more important end1 the end for which they ought to be read4 ,in this sort of reading the understanding is never exercised save in as far as it agrees with the fancy2 it does not learn to distinguish the form from the substance1 nor to act alone as pure understanding4 ,and yet the exercise of the pure understanding is in itself an essential and capital point in the instruction of youth2 and very often the exercise itself of thought is much more important than the object on which it is exercised4 ,if you wish for a matter to be done seriously1 be very careful not to announce it as a diversion4 ,it is preferable1 on the contrary1 to secure attention and effort by the very form that is employed1 and to use a kind of violence to draw minds over from the passive to an active state4 ,the professor ought never to hide from his pupil the exact regularity of the method2 he ought rather to fix his attention on it1 and if possible to make him desire this strictness4 ,the student ought to learn to pursue an end1 and in the interest of that end to put up with a difficult process4 ,he ought early to aspire to that loftier satisfaction which is the reward of exertion4 ,in a scientific lecture the senses are altogether set aside2 in an aesthetic address it is wished to interest them4 ,what is the result8 ,a writing or conversation of the aesthetic class is devoured with interest2 but questions are put as to its conclusions2 the hearer is scarcely able to give an answer4 ,and this is quite natural1 as here the conceptions reach the mind only in entire masses1 and the understanding only knows what it analyzes4 ,the mind during a lecture of this kind is more passive than active1 and the intellect only possesses what it has produced by its own activity4 ,however1 all this applies only to the vulgarly beautiful1 and to a vulgar fashion of perceiving beauty4 ,true beauty reposes on the strictest limitation1 on the most exact definition1 on the highest and most intimate necessity4 ,only this limitation ought rather to let itself be sought for than be imposed violently4 ,it requires the most perfect conformity to law1 but this must appear quite natural4 ,a product that unites these conditions will fully satisfy the understanding as soon as study is made of it4 ,but exactly because this result is really beautiful1 its conformity is not expressed2 it does not take the understanding apart to address it exclusively2 it is a harmonious unity which addresses the entire man--all his faculties together2 it is nature speaking to nature4 ,a vulgar criticism may perhaps find it empty1 paltry1 and too little determined4 ,he who has no other knowledge than that of distinguishing1 and no other sense than that for the particular1 is actually pained by what is precisely the triumph of art1 this harmonious unity where the parts are blended in a pure entirety4 ,no doubt it is necessary1 in a philosophical discourse1 that the understanding1 as a faculty of analysis1 find what will satisfy it2 it must obtain single concrete results2 this is the essential that must not by any means be lost sight of4 ,but if the writer1 while giving all possible precision to the substance of his conceptions1 has taken the necessary measures to enable the understanding1 as soon as it will take the trouble1 to find of necessity these truths1 ,i do not see that he is a less good writer because he has approached more to the highest perfection4 ,nature always acts as a harmonious unity1 and when she loses this in her efforts after abstraction1 nothing appears more urgent to her than to re-establish it1 and the writer we are speaking of is not less commendable if he obeys nature by attaching to the understanding what had been separated by abstraction1 and when1 by appealing at the same time to the sensuous and to the spiritual faculties1 he addresses altogether the entire man4 ,no doubt the vulgar critic will give very scant thanks to this writer for having given him a double task4 ,for vulgar criticism has not the feeling for this harmony1 it only runs after details1 and even in the ,basilica of ,st4 ,peter would exclusively attend to the pillars on which the ethereal edifice reposes4 ,the fact is that this critic must begin by translating it to understand it--in the same way that the pure understanding1 left to itself1 if it meets beauty and harmony1 either in nature or in art1 must begin by transferring them into its own language--and by decomposing it1 by doing in fact what the pupil does who spells before reading4 ,but it is not from the narrow mind of his readers that the writer who expresses his conceptions in the language of the beautiful receives his laws4 ,the ideal which he carries in himself is the goal at which he aims without troubling himself as to who follows and who remains behind4 ,many will stay behind2 for if it be a rare thing to find readers simply capable of thinking1 it is infinitely more rare to meet any who can think with imagination4 ,thus our writer1 by the force of circumstances1 will fall out1 on the one hand1 with those who have only intuitive ideas and feelings1 for he imposes on them a painful task by forcing them to think2 and1 on the other hand1 he aggravates those who only know how to think1 for he asks of them what is absolutely impossible--to give a living1 animated form to conception4 ,but as both only represent true humanity very imperfectly--that normal humanity which requires the absolute harmony of these two operations--their contradictory objections have no weight1 and if their judgments prove anything1 it is rather that the author has succeeded in attaining his end4 ,the abstract thinker finds that the substance of the work is solidly thought2 the reader of intuitive ideas finds his style lively and animated2 both consequently find and approve in him what they are able to understand1 and that alone is wanting which exceeds their capacity4 ,but precisely for this very reason a writer of this class is not adapted to make known to an ignorant reader the object of what he treats1 or1 in the most proper sense of the word1 to teach4 ,happily also1 he is not required for that1 for means will not be wanting for the teaching of scholars4 ,the professor in the strictest acceptation is obliged to bind himself to the needs of his scholars2 the first thing he has to presuppose is the ignorance of those who listen to him2 the other1 on the other hand1 demands a certain maturity and culture in his reader or audience4 ,nor is his office confined to impart to them dead ideas2 he grasps the living object with a living energy1 and seizes at once on the entire man--his understanding1 his heart1 and his will4 ,we have found that it is dangerous for the soundness of knowledge to give free scope to the exigencies of taste in teaching1 properly so called4 ,but this does not mean by any means that the culture of this faculty in the student is a premature thing4 ,he must1 on the contrary1 be encouraged to apply the knowledge that he has appropriated in the school to the field of living development4 ,when once the first point has been observed1 and the knowledge acquired1 the other point1 the exercise of taste1 can only have useful results4 ,it is certain that it is necessary to be quite the master of a truth to abandon without danger the form in which it has been found2 a great strength of understanding is required not to lose sight of your object while giving free play to the imagination4 ,he who transmits his knowledge under a scholastic form persuades me1 ,i admit1 that he has grasped these truths properly and that he knows how to support them4 ,but he who besides this is in a condition to communicate them to me in a beautiful form not only proves that he is adapted to promulgate them1 he shows moreover that he has assimilated them and that he is able to make their image pass into his productions and into his acts4 ,there is for the results of thought only one way by which they can penetrate into the will and pass into life2 that is1 by spontaneous imagination1 only what in ourselves was already a living act can become so out of us2 and the same thing happens with the creations of the mind as with those of organic nature1 that the fruit issues only from the flower4 ,if we consider how many truths were living and active as interior intuitions before philosophy showed their existence1 and how many truths most firmly secured by proofs often remain inactive on the will and the feelings1 it will be seen how important it is for practical life to follow in this the indications of nature1 and when we have acquired a knowledge scientifically to bring it back again to the state of a living intuition4 ,it is the only way to enable those whose nature has forbidden them to follow the artificial path of science to share in the treasures of wisdom4 ,the beautiful renders us here in relation with knowledge what1 in morals1 it does in relation with conduct2 it places men in harmony on results1 and on the substance of things1 who would never have agreed on the form and principles4 ,the other sex1 by its very nature and fair destiny1 cannot and ought not to rival ours in scientific knowledge2 but it can share truth with us by the reproduction of things4 ,man agrees to have his taste offended1 provided compensation be given to his understanding by the increased value of its possessions4 ,but women do not forgive negligence in form1 whatever be the nature of the conception2 and the inner structure of all their being gives them the right to show a strict severity on this point4 ,the fair sex1 even if it did not rule by beauty1 would still be entitled to its name because it is ruled by beauty1 and makes all objects presented to it appear before the tribunal of feeling1 and all that does not speak to feeling or belies it is lost in the opinion of women4 ,no doubt through this medium nothing can be made to reach the mind of woman save the matter of truth1 and not truth itself1 which is inseparable from its proofs4 ,but happily woman only needs the matter of truth to reach her highest perfection1 and the few exceptions hitherto seen are not of a nature to make us wish that the exception should become the rule4 ,as1 therefore1 nature has not only dispensed but cut off the other sex from this task1 man must give a double attention to it if he wishes to vie with woman and be equal to her in what is of great interest in human life4 ,consequently he will try to transfer all that he can from the field of abstraction1 where he is master1 to that of imagination1 of feeling1 where woman is at once a model and a judge4 ,the mind of woman being a ground that does not admit of durable cultivation1 he will try to make his own ground yield as many flowers and as much fruit as possible1 so as to renew as often as possible the quickly-fading produce on the other ground1 and to keep up a sort of artificial harvest where natural harvests could not ripen4 ,taste corrects or hides the natural differences of the two sexes4 ,it nourishes and adorns the mind of woman with the productions of that of man1 and allows the fair sex to feel without being previously fatigued by thought1 and to enjoy pleasures without having bought them with labors4 ,thus1 save the restrictions ,i have named1 it is to the taste that is intrusted the care of form in every statement by which knowledge is communicated1 but under the express condition that it will not encroach on the substance of things4 ,taste must never forget that it carries out an order emanating elsewhere1 and that it is not its own affairs it is treating of4 ,all its parts must be limited to place our minds in a condition favorable to knowledge2 over all that concerns knowledge itself it has no right to any authority4 ,for it exceeds its mission1 it betrays it1 it disfigures the object that it ought faithfully to transmit1 it lays claim to authority out of its proper province2 if it tries to carry out there1 too1 its own law1 which is nothing but that of pleasing the imagination and making itself agreeable to the intuitive faculties2 if it applies this law not only to the operation1 but also to the matter itself2 if it follows this rule not only to arrange the materials1 but also to choose them4 ,when this is the case the first consideration is not the things themselves1 but the best mode of presenting them so as to recommend them to the senses4 ,the logical sequence of conceptions of which only the strictness should have been hidden from us is rejected as a disagreeable impediment4 ,perfection is sacrificed to ornament1 the truth of the parts to the beauty of the whole1 the inmost nature of things to the exterior impression4 ,now1 directly the substance is subordinated to form1 properly speaking it ceases to exist2 the statement is empty1 and instead of having extended our knowledge we have only indulged in an amusing game4 ,the writers who have more wit than understanding and more taste than science1 are too often guilty of this deception2 and readers more accustomed to feel than to think are only too inclined to forgive them4 ,in general it is unsafe to give to the aesthetical sense all its culture before having exercised the understanding as the pure thinking faculty1 and before having enriched the head with conceptions2 for as taste always looks at the carrying out and not at the basis of things1 wherever it becomes the only arbiter1 there is an end of the essential difference between things4 ,men become indifferent to reality1 and they finish by giving value to form and appearance only4 ,hence arises that superficial and frivolous bel-esprit that we often see hold sway in social conditions and in circles where men pride themselves1 and not unreasonably1 on the finest culture4 ,it is a fatal thing to introduce a young man into assemblies where the ,graces hold sway before the ,muses have dismissed him and owned his majority4 ,moreover1 it can hardly be prevented that what completes the external education of a young man whose mind is ripe turns him who is not ripened by study into a fool4 ,i admit that to have a fund of conceptions1 and not form1 is only a half possession4 ,for the most splendid knowledge in a head incapable of giving them form is like a treasure buried in the earth4 ,but form without substance is a shadow of riches1 and all possible cleverness in expression is of no use to him who has nothing to express4 ,thus1 to avoid the graces of education leading us in a wrong road1 taste must be confined to regulating the external form1 while reason and experience determine the substance and the essence of conceptions4 ,if the impression made on the senses is converted into a supreme criterion1 and if things are exclusively referred to sensation1 man will never cease to be in the service of matter2 he will never clear a way for his intelligence2 in short1 reason will lose in freedom in proportion as it allows imagination to usurp undue influence4 ,the beautiful produces its effect by mere intuition2 the truth demands study4 ,accordingly1 the man who among all his faculties has only exercised the sense of the beautiful is satisfied even when study is absolutely required1 with a superficial view of things2 and he fancies he can make a mere play of wit of that which demands a serious effort4 ,but mere intuition cannot give any result4 ,to produce something great it is necessary to enter into the fundamental nature of things1 to distinguish them strictly1 to associate them in different manners1 and study them with a steady attention4 ,even the artist and the poet1 though both of them labor to procure us only the pleasure of intuition1 can only by most laborious and engrossing study succeed in giving us a delightful recreation by their works4 ,i believe this to be the test to distinguish the mere dilettante from the artist of real genius4 ,the seductive charm exercised by the sublime and the beautiful1 the fire which they kindle in the young imagination1 the apparent ease with which they place the senses under an illusion1 have often persuaded inexperienced minds to take in hand the palette or the harp1 and to transform into figures or to pour out in melody what they felt living in their heart4 ,misty ideas circulate in their heads1 like a world in formation1 and make them believe that they are inspired4 ,they take obscurity for depth1 savage vehemence for strength1 the undetermined for the infinite1 what has not senses for the super-sensuous4 ,and how they revel in these creations of their brain6 ,but the judgment of the connoisseur does not confirm this testimony of an excited self-love4 ,with his pitiless criticism he dissipates all the prestige of the imagination and of its dreams1 and carrying the torch before these novices he leads them into the mysterious depths of science and life1 where1 far from profane eyes1 the source of all true beauty flows ever towards him who is initiated4 ,if now a true genius slumbers in the young aspirant1 no doubt his modesty will at first receive a shock2 but soon the consciousness of real talent will embolden him for the trial4 ,if nature has endowed him with gifts for plastic art1 he will study the structure of man with the scalpel of the anatomist2 he will descend into the lowest depths to be true in representing surfaces1 and he will question the whole race in order to be just to the individual4 ,if he is born to be a poet1 he examines humanity in his own heart to understand the infinite variety of scenes in which it acts on the vast theatre of the world4 ,he subjects imagination and its exuberant fruitfulness to the discipline of taste1 and charges the understanding to mark out in its cool wisdom the banks that should confine the raging waters of inspiration4 ,he knows full well that the great is only formed of the little--from the imperceptible4 ,he piles up1 grain by grain1 the materials of the wonderful structure1 which1 suddenly disclosed to our eyes1 produces a startling effect and turns our head4 ,but if nature has only intended him for a dilettante1 difficulties damp his impotent zeal1 and one of two things happens3 either he abandons1 if he is modest1 that to which he was diverted by a mistaken notion of his vocation2 or1 if he has no modesty1 he brings back the ideal to the narrow limits of his faculties1 for want of being able to enlarge his faculties to the vast proportions of the ideal4 ,thus the true genius of the artist will be always recognized by this sign--that when most enthusiastic for the whole1 he preserves a coolness1 a patience defying all obstacles1 as regards details4 ,moreover1 in order not to do any injury to perfection1 he would rather renounce the enjoyment given by the completion4 ,for the simple amateur1 it is the difficulty of means that disgusts him and turns him from his aim2 his dreams would be to have no more trouble in producing than he had in conception and intuition4 ,i have spoken hitherto of the dangers to which we are exposed by an exaggerated sensuousness and susceptibility to the beautiful in the form1 and from too extensive aesthetical requirements2 and ,i have considered these dangers in relation to the faculty of thinking and knowing4 ,what1 then1 will be the result when these pretensions of the aesthetical taste bear on the will8 ,it is one thing to be stopped in your scientific progress by too great a love of the beautiful1 another to see this inclination become a cause of degeneracy in character itself1 and make us violate the law of duty4 ,in matters of thought the caprices of taste are no doubt an evil1 and they must of necessity darken the intelligence2 but these same caprices applied to the maxims of the will become really pernicious and infallibly deprave the heart4 ,yet this is the dangerous extreme to which too refined an aesthetic culture brings us directly we abandon ourselves exclusively to the feelings for the beautiful1 and directly we raise taste to the part of absolute lawgiver over our will4 ,the moral destination of man requires that the will should be completely independent of all influence of sensuous instincts1 and we know that taste labors incessantly at making the link between reason and the senses continually closer4 ,now this effort has certainly as its result the ennobling of the appetites1 and to make them more conformable with the requirements of reason2 but this very point may be a serious danger for morality4 ,i proceed to explain my meaning4 ,a very refined aesthetical education accustoms the imagination to direct itself according to laws1 even in its free exercise1 and leads the sensuous not to have any enjoyments without the concurrence of reason2 but it soon follows that reason1 in its turn1 is required to be directed1 even in the most serious operations of its legislative power1 according to the interests of imagination1 and to give no more orders to the will without the consent of the sensuous instincts4 ,the moral obligation of the will1 which is1 however1 an absolute and unconditional law1 takes unperceived the character of a simple contract1 which only binds each of the contracting parties when the other fulfils its engagement4 ,the purely accidental agreement of duty with inclination ends by being considered a necessary condition1 and thus the principle of all morality is quenched in its source4 ,how does the character become thus gradually depraved8 ,the process may be explained thus3 ,so long as man is only a savage1 and his instincts' only bear on material things and a coarse egotism determines his actions1 sensuousness can only become a danger to morality by its blind strength1 and does not oppose reason except as a force4 ,the voice of justice1 moderation1 and humanity is stifled by the appetites1 which make a stronger appeal4 ,man is then terrible in his vengeance1 because he is terribly sensitive to insults4 ,he robs1 he kills1 because his desires are still too powerful for the feeble guidance of reason4 ,he is towards others like a wild beast1 because the instinct of nature still rules him after the fashion of animals4 ,but when to the savage state1 to that of nature1 succeeds civilization2 when taste ennobles the instincts1 and holds out to them more worthy objects taken from the moral order2 when culture moderates the brutal outbursts of the appetites and brings them back under the discipline of the beautiful1 it may happen that these same instincts1 which were only dangerous before by their blind power1 coming to assume an air of dignity and a certain assumed authority1 may become more dangerous than before to the morality of the character2 and that1 under the guise of innocence1 nobleness1 and purity1 they may exercise over the will a tyranny a hundred times worse than the other4 ,the man of taste willingly escapes the gross thraldom of the appetites4 ,he submits to reason the instinct which impels him to pleasure1 and he is willing to take counsel from his spiritual and thinking nature for the choice of the objects he ought to desire4 ,now1 reason is very apt to mistake a spiritualized instinct for one of its own instincts1 and at length to give up to it the guidance of the will1 and this in proportion as moral judgment and aesthetic judgment1 the sense of the good and the sense of the beautiful1 meet in the same object and in the same decision4 ,so long as it remains possible for inclination and duty to meet in the same object and in a common desire1 this representation of the moral sense by the aesthetic sense may not draw after it positively evil consequences1 though1 if the matter be strictly considered1 the morality of particular actions does not gain by this agreement4 ,but the consequences will be quite different when sensuousness and reason have each of them a different interest4 ,if1 for example1 duty commands us to perform an action that revolts our taste1 or if taste feels itself drawn towards an object which reason as a moral judge is obliged to condemn1 then1 in fact1 we suddenly encounter the necessity of distinguishing between the requirements of the moral sense and those of the aesthetic sense1 which so long an agreement had almost confounded to such a degree that they could not be distinguished4 ,we must now determine their reciprocal rights1 and find which of them is the real master in our soul4 ,but such a long representation of the moral sense by the sense of the beautiful has made us forget this master4 ,when we have so long practised this rule of obeying at once the suggestions of taste1 and when we have found the result always satisfactory1 taste ends by assuming a kind of appearance of right4 ,as taste has shown itself irreproachable in the vigilant watch it has kept over the will1 we necessarily come to grant a certain esteem to its decisions2 and it is precisely to this esteem that inclination1 with captious logic1 gives weight against the duties of conscience4 ,esteem is a feeling that can only be felt for law1 and what corresponds to it4 ,whatever is entitled to esteem lays claim to an unconditional homage4 ,the ennobled inclination which has succeeded in captivating our esteem will1 therefore1 no longer be satisfied with being subordinate to reason2 it aspires to rank alongside it4 ,it does not wish to be taken for a faithless subject in revolt against his sovereign2 it wishes to be regarded as a queen2 and1 treating reason as its peer1 to dictate1 like reason1 laws to the conscience4 ,thus1 if we listen to her1 she would weigh by right equally in the scale2 and then have we not good reason to fear that interest will decide8 ,of all the inclinations that are decided from the feeling for the beautiful and that are special to refined minds1 none commends itself so much to the moral sense as the ennobled instinct of love2 none is so fruitful in impressions which correspond to the true dignity of man4 ,to what an elevation does it raise human nature6 and often what divine sparks does it kindle in the common soul6 ,it is a sacred fire that consumes every egotistical inclination1 and the very principles of morality are scarcely a greater safeguard of the soul's chastity than love is for the nobility of the heart4 ,how often it happens while the moral principles are still struggling that love prevails in their favor1 and hastens by its irresistible power the resolutions that duty alone would have vainly demanded from weak human nature6 ,who1 then1 would distrust an affection that protects so powerfully what is most excellent in human nature1 and which fights so victoriously against the moral foe of all morality1 egotism8 ,but do not follow this guide till you have secured a better4 ,suppose a loved object be met that is unhappy1 and unhappy because of you1 and that it depends only on you to make it happy by sacrificing a few moral scruples4 ,you may be disposed to say1 ,shall ,i let this loved being suffer for the pleasure of keeping our conscience pure8 ,is this resistance required by this generous1 devoted affection1 always ready to forget itself for its object8 ,i grant it is going against conscience to have recourse to this immoral means to solace the being we love2 but can we be said to love if in presence of this being and of its sorrow we continue to think of ourselves8 ,are we not more taken up with ourselves than with it1 since we prefer to see it unhappy rather than consent to be so ourselves by the reproaches of our conscience8 ,these are the sophisms that the passion of love sets against conscience 7whose voice thwarts its interests71 making its utterances despicable as suggestions of selfishness1 and representing our moral dignity as one of the components of our happiness that we are free to alienate4 ,then1 if the morality of our character is not strongly backed by good principles1 we shall surrender1 whatever may be the impetus of our exalted imagination1 to disgraceful acts2 and we shall think that we gain a glorious victory over our self-love1 while we are only the despicable victims of this instinct4 ,a well-known ,french romance1 ,les ,liaisons ,dangereuses1 gives us a striking example of this delusion1 by which love betrays a soul otherwise pure and beautiful4 ,the ,presidente de ,tourvel errs by surprise1 and seeks to calm her remorse by the idea that she has sacrificed her virtue to her generosity4 ,secondary and imperfect duties1 as they are styled1 are those that the feeling for the beautiful takes most willingly under its patronage1 and which it allows to prevail on many occasions over perfect duties4 ,as they assign a much larger place to the arbitrary option of the subject1 and at the same time as they have the appearance of merit1 which gives them lustre1 they commend themselves far more to the aesthetic taste than perfect or necessary duties1 which oblige us strictly and unconditionally4 ,how many people allow themselves to be unjust that they may be generous6 ,how many fail in their duties to society that they may do good to an individual1 and reciprocally6 ,how many people forgive a lie sooner than a rudeness1 a crime against humanity rather than an insult to honor6 ,how many debase their bodies to hasten the perfection of their minds1 and degrade their character to adorn their understanding6 ,how many do not scruple to commit a crime when they have a laudable end in view1 pursue an ideal of political happiness through all the terrors of anarchy1 tread under foot existing laws to make way for better ones1 and do not scruple to devote the present generation to misery to secure at this cost the happiness of future generations6 ,the apparent unselfishness of certain virtues gives them a varnish of purity1 which makes them rash enough to break and run counter to the moral law2 and many people are the dupes of this strange illusion1 to rise higher than morality and to endeavor to be more reasonable than reason4 ,the man of a refined taste is susceptible1 in this respect1 of a moral corruption1 from which the rude child of nature is preserved by his very coarseness4 ,in the latter1 the opposite of the demands of sense and the decrees of the moral law is so strongly marked and so manifest1 and the spiritual element has so small a share in his desires1 that although the appetites exercise a despotic sway over him1 they cannot wrest his esteem from him4 ,thus1 when the savage1 yielding to the superior attraction of sense1 gives way to the committal of an unjust action1 he may yield to temptation1 but he will not hide from himself that he is committing a fault1 and he will do homage to reason even while he violates its mandates4 ,the child of civilization1 on the contrary1 the man of refinement1 will not admit that he commits a fault1 and to soothe his conscience he prefers to impose on it by a sophism4 ,no doubt he wishes to obey his appetite1 but at the same time without falling in his own esteem4 ,how does he manage this8 ,he begins by overthrowing the superior authority that thwarts his inclination1 and before transgressing the law he calls in question the competence of the lawgiver4 ,could it be expected that a corrupt will should so corrupt the intelligence8 ,the only dignity that an inclination can assume accrues to it from its agreement with reason2 yet we find that inclination1 independent as well as blind1 aspires1 at the very moment she enters into contest with reason1 to keep this dignity which she owes to reason alone4 ,nay1 inclination even aspires to use this dignity she owes to reason against reason itself4 ,these are the dangers that threaten the morality of the character when too intimate an association is attempted between sensuous instincts and moral instincts1 which can never perfectly agree in real life1 but only in the ideal4 ,i admit that the sensuous risks nothing in this association1 because it possesses nothing except what it must give up directly duty speaks and reason demands the sacrifice4 ,but reason1 as the arbiter of the moral law1 will run the more risk from this union if it receives as a gift from inclination what it might enforce2 for1 under the appearance of freedom1 the feeling of obligation may be easily lost1 and what reason accepts as a favor may quite well be refused it when the sensuous finds it painful to grant it4 ,it is1 therefore1 infinitely safer for the morality of the character to suspend1 at least for a time1 this misrepresentation of the moral sense by the sense of the beautiful4 ,it is best of all that reason should command by itself without mediation1 and that it should show to the will its true master4 ,the remark is1 therefore1 quite justified1 that true morality only knows itself in the school of adversity1 and that a continual prosperity becomes easily a rock of offence to virtue4 ,i mean here by prosperity the state of a man who1 to enjoy the goods of life1 need not commit injustice1 and who to conform to justice need not renounce any of the goods of life4 ,the man who enjoys a continual prosperity never sees moral duty face to face1 because his inclinations1 naturally regular and moderate1 always anticipate the mandate of reason1 and because no temptation to violate the law recalls to his mind the idea of law4 ,entirely guided by the sense of the beautiful1 which represents reason in the world of sense1 he will reach the tomb without having known by experience the dignity of his destiny4 ,on the other hand1 the unfortunate man1 if he be at the same time a virtuous man1 enjoys the sublime privilege of being in immediate intercourse with the divine majesty of the moral law2 and as his virtue is not seconded by any inclination1 he bears witness in this lower world1 and as a human being1 of the freedom of pure spirits6 ,,reflections ,,on ,,the ,,use ,,of ,,the ,,vulgar ,,and ,,low ,,elements ,,in ,,works ,,of ,,art4 ,i call vulgar 7common7 all that does not speak to the mind1 of which all the interest is addressed only to the senses4 ,there are1 no doubt1 an infinite number of things vulgar in themselves from their material and subject4 ,but as the vulgarity of the material can always be ennobled by the treatment1 in respect of art the only question is that relating to the vulgarity in form4 ,a vulgar mind will dishonor the most noble matter by treating it in a common manner4 ,a great and noble mind1 on the contrary1 will ennoble even a common matter1 and it will do so by superadding to it something spiritual and discovering in it some aspect in which this matter has greatness4 ,thus1 for example1 a vulgar historian will relate to us the most insignificant actions of a hero with a scrupulousness as great as that bestowed on his sublimest exploit1 and will dwell as lengthily on his pedigree1 his costume1 and his household as on his projects and his enterprises4 ,he will relate those of his actions that have the most grandeur in such wise that no one will perceive that character in them4 ,on the contrary1 a historian of genius1 himself endowed with nobleness of mind1 will give even to the private life and the least considerable actions of his hero an interest and a value that will make them considerable4 ,thus1 again1 in the matter of the plastic arts1 the ,dutch and ,flemish painters have given proof of a vulgar taste2 the ,italians1 and still more the ancient ,greeks1 of a grand and noble taste4 ,the ,greeks always went to the ideal2 they rejected every vulgar feature1 and chose no common subject4 ,a portrait painter can represent his model in a common manner or with grandeur2 in a common manner if he reproduce the merely accidental details with the same care as the essential features1 if he neglect the great to carry out the minutiae curiously4 ,he does it grandly if he know how to find out and place in relief what is most interesting1 and distinguish the accidental from the necessary2 if he be satisfied with indicating what is paltry1 reserving all the finish of the execution for what is great4 ,and the only thing that is great is the expression of the soul itself1 manifesting itself by actions1 gestures1 or attitudes4 ,the poet treats his subject in a common manner when in the execution of his theme he dwells on valueless facts and only skims rapidly over those that are important4 ,he treats his theme with grandeur when he associates with it what is great4 ,for example1 ,homer treated the shield of ,achilles grandly1 though the making of a shield1 looking merely at the matter1 is a very commonplace affair4 ,one degree below the common or the vulgar is the element of the base or gross1 which differs from the common in being not only something negative1 a simple lack of inspiration or nobleness1 but something positive1 marking coarse feelings1 bad morals1 and contemptible manners4 ,vulgarity only testifies that an advantage is wanting1 whereof the absence is a matter of regret2 baseness indicates the want of a quality which we are authorized to require in all4 ,thus1 for example1 revenge1 considered in itself1 in whatever place or way it manifests itself1 is something vulgar1 because it is the proof of a lack of generosity4 ,but there is1 moreover1 a base vengeance1 when the man1 to satisfy it1 employs means exposed to contempt4 ,the base always implies something gross1 or reminds one of the mob1 while the common can be found in a well-born and well-bred man1 who may think and act in a common manner if he has only mediocre faculties4 ,a man acts in a common manner when he is only taken up with his own interest1 and it is in this that he is in opposition with the really noble man1 who1 when necessary1 knows how to forget himself to procure some enjoyment for others4 ,but the same man would act in a base manner if he consulted his interests at the cost of his honor1 and if in such a case he did not even take upon himself to respect the laws of decency4 ,thus the common is only the contrary of the noble2 the base is the contrary both of the noble and the seemly4 ,to give yourself up1 unresisting1 to all your passions1 to satisfy all your impulses1 without being checked even by the rules of propriety1 still less by those of morality1 is to conduct yourself basely1 and to betray baseness of the soul4 ,the artist also may fall into a low style1 not only by choosing ignoble subjects1 offensive to decency and good taste1 but moreover by treating them in a base manner4 ,it is to treat a subject in a base manner if those sides are made prominent which propriety directs us to conceal1 or if it is expressed in a manner that incidentally awakens low ideas4 ,the lives of the greater part of men can present particulars of a low kind1 but it is only a low imagination that will pick out these for representation4 ,there are pictures describing sacred history in which the ,apostles1 the ,virgin1 and even the ,christ1 are depicted in such wise that they might be supposed to be taken from the dregs of the populace4 ,this style of execution always betrays a low taste1 and might justly lead to the inference that the artist himself thinks coarsely and like the mob4 ,no doubt there are cases where art itself may be allowed to produce base images3 for example1 when the aim is to provoke laughter4 ,a man of polished manners may also sometimes1 and without betraying a corrupt taste1 be amused by certain features when nature expresses herself crudely but with truth1 and he may enjoy the contrast between the manners of polished society and those of the lower orders4 ,a man of position appearing intoxicated will always make a disagreeable impression on us2 but a drunken driver1 sailor1 or carter will only be a risible object4 ,jests that would be insufferable in a man of education amuse us in the mouth of the people4 ,of this kind are many of the scenes of ,aristophanes1 who unhappily sometimes exceeds this limit1 and becomes absolutely condemnable4 ,this is1 moreover1 the source of the pleasure we take in parodies1 when the feelings1 the language1 and the mode of action of the common people are fictitiously lent to the same personages whom the poet has treated with all possible dignity and decency4 ,as soon as the poet means only to jest1 and seeks only to amuse1 we can overlook traits of a low kind1 provided he never stirs up indignation or disgust4 ,he stirs up indignation when he places baseness where it is quite unpardonable1 that is in the case of men who are expected to show fine moral sense4 ,in attributing baseness to them he will either outrage truth1 for we prefer to think him a liar than to believe that well-trained men can act in a base manner2 or his personages will offend our moral sense1 and1 what is worse1 excite our imagination4 ,i do not mean by this to condemn farces2 a farce implies between the poet and the spectator a tacit consent that no truth is to be expected in the piece4 ,in a farce we exempt the poet from all faithfulness in his pictures2 he has a kind of privilege to tell us untruths4 ,here1 in fact1 all the comic consists exactly in its contrast with the truth1 and so it cannot possibly be true4 ,this is not all3 even in the serious and the tragic there are certain places where the low element can be brought into play4 ,but in this case the affair must pass into the terrible1 and the momentary violation of our good taste must be masked by a strong impression1 which brings our passion into play4 ,in other words1 the low impression must be absorbed by a superior tragic impression4 ,theft1 for example1 is a thing absolutely base1 and whatever arguments our heart may suggest to excuse the thief1 whatever the pressure of circumstances that led him to the theft1 it is always an indelible brand stamped upon him1 and1 aesthetically speaking1 he will always remain a base object4 ,on this point taste is even less forgiving than morality1 and its tribunal is more severe2 because an aesthetical object is responsible even for the accessory ideas that are awakened in us by such an object1 while moral judgment eliminates all that is merely accidental4 ,according to this view a man who robs would always be an object to be rejected by the poet who wishes to present serious pictures4 ,but suppose this man is at the same time a murderer1 he is even more to be condemned than before by the moral law4 ,but in the aesthetic judgment he is raised one degree higher and made better adapted to figure in a work of art4 ,continuing to judge him from the aesthetic point of view1 it may be added that he who abases himself by a vile action can to a certain extent be raised by a crime1 and can be thus reinstated in our aesthetic estimation4 ,this contradiction between the moral judgment and the aesthetical judgment is a fact entitled to attention and consideration4 ,it may be explained in different ways4 ,first1 ,i have already said that1 as the aesthetic judgment depends on the imagination1 all the accessory ideas awakened in us by an object and naturally associated with it1 must themselves influence this judgment4 ,now1 if these accessory ideas are base1 they infallibly stamp this character on the principal object4 ,in the second place1 what we look for in the aesthetic judgment is strength2 whilst in a judgment pronounced in the name of the moral sense we consider lawfulness4 ,the lack of strength is something contemptible1 and every action from which it may be inferred that the agent lacks strength is1 by that very fact1 a contemptible action4 ,every cowardly and underhand action is repugnant to us1 because it is a proof of impotence2 and1 on the contrary1 a devilish wickedness can1 aesthetically speaking1 flatter our taste1 as soon as it marks strength4 ,now1 a theft testifies to a vile and grovelling mind3 a murder has at least on its side the appearance of strength2 the interest we take in it aesthetically is in proportion to the strength that is manifested in it4 ,a third reason is1 because in presence of a deep and horrible crime we no longer think of the quality but the awful consequences of the action4 ,the stronger emotion covers and stifles the weaker one4 ,we do not look back into the mind of the agent2 we look onward into his destiny1 we think of the effects of his action4 ,now1 directly we begin to tremble all the delicacies of taste are reduced to silence4 ,the principal impression entirely fills our mind3 the accessory and accidental ideas1 in which chiefly dwell all impressions of baseness1 are effaced from it4 ,it is for this reason that the theft committed by young ,ruhberg1 in the ,crime through ,ambition1 a play of ,iffland far from displeasing on the stage1 is a real tragic effect4 ,the poet with great skill has managed the circumstances in such wise that we are carried away2 we are left almost breathless4 ,the frightful misery of the family1 and especially the grief of the father1 are objects that attract our attention1 turn it aside1 from the person of the agent1 towards the consequences of his act4 ,we are too much moved to tarry long in representing to our minds the stamp of infamy with which the theft is marked4 ,in a word1 the base element disappears in the terrible4 ,it is singular that this theft1 really accomplished by young ,ruhberg1 inspires us with less repugnance than1 in another piece1 the mere suspicion of a theft1 a suspicion which is actually without foundation4 ,in the latter case it is a young officer who is accused without grounds of having abstracted a silver spoon1 which is recovered later on4 ,thus the base element is reduced in this case to a purely imaginary thing1 a mere suspicion1 and this suffices nevertheless to do an irreparable injury1 in our aesthetical appreciation1 to the hero of the piece1 in spite of his innocence4 ,this is because a man who is supposed capable of a base action did not apparently enjoy a very solid reputation for morality1 for the laws of propriety require that a man should be held to be a man of honor as long as he does not show the opposite4 ,if therefore anything contemptible is imputed to him1 it seems that by some part of his past conduct he has given rise to a suspicion of this kind1 and this does him injury1 though all the odious and the base in an undeserved suspicion are on the side of him who accuses4 ,a point that does still greater injury to the hero of the piece of which ,i am speaking is the fact that he is an officer1 and the lover of a lady of condition brought up in a manner suitable to her rank4 ,with these two titles1 that of thief makes quite a revolting contrast1 and it is impossible for us1 when we see him near his lady1 not to think that perhaps at that very moment he had the silver spoon in his pocket4 ,lastly1 the most unfortunate part of the business is1 that he has no idea of the suspicion weighing over him1 for if he had a knowledge of it1 in his character of officer1 he would exact a sanguinary reparation4 ,in this case the consequences of the suspicion would change to the terrible1 and all that is base in the situation would disappear4 ,we must distinguish1 moreover1 between the baseness of feeling and that which is connected with the mode of treatment and circumstance4 ,the former in all respects is below aesthetic dignity2 the second in many cases may perfectly agree with it4 ,slavery1 for example1 is abase thing2 but a servile mind in a free man is contemptible4 ,the labors of the slave1 on the contrary1 are not so when his feelings are not servile4 ,far from this1 a base condition1 when joined to elevated feelings1 can become a source of the sublime4 ,the master of ,epictetus1 who beat him1 acted basely1 and the slave beaten by him showed a sublime soul4 ,true greatness1 when it is met in a base condition1 is only the more brilliant and splendid on that account3 and the artist must not fear to show us his heroes even under a contemptible exterior as soon as he is sure of being able to give them1 when he wishes1 the expression of moral dignity4 ,but what can be granted to the poet is not always allowed in the artist4 ,the poet only addresses the imagination2 the painter addresses the senses directly4 ,it follows not only that the impression of the picture is more lively than that of the poem1 but also that the painter1 if he employ only his natural signs1 cannot make the minds of his personages as visible as the poet can with the arbitrary signs at his command3 yet it is only the sight of the mind that can reconcile us to certain exteriors4 ,when ,homer causes his ,ulysses to appear in the rags of a beggar ,odyssey1 book xiii4 v4 #cig1 we are at liberty to represent his image to our mind more or less fully1 and to dwell on it as long as we like4 ,but in no case will it be sufficiently vivid to excite our repugnance or disgust4 ,but if a painter1 or even a tragedian1 try to reproduce faithfully the ,ulysses of ,homer1 we turn away from the picture with repugnance4 ,it is because in this case the greater or less vividness of the impression no longer depends on our will3 we cannot help seeing what the painter places under our eyes2 and it is not easy for us to remove the accessory repugnant ideas which the picture recalls to our mind4 ,,detached ,,reflections ,,on ,,different ,,questions ,,of ,,aesthetics4 ,all the properties by which an object can become aesthetic1 can be referred to four classes1 which1 as well according to their objective differences as according to their different relation with the subject1 produce on our passive and active faculties pleasures unequal not only in intensity but also in worth2 classes which also are of an unequal use for the end of the fine arts3 they are the agreeable1 the good1 the sublime1 and the beautiful4 ,of these four categories1 the sublime and the beautiful only belong properly to art4 ,the agreeable is not worthy of art1 and the good is at least not its end2 for the aim of art is to please1 and the good1 whether we consider it in theory or in practice1 neither can nor ought to serve as a means of satisfying the wants of sensuousness4 ,the agreeable only satisfies the senses1 and is distinguished thereby from the good1 which only pleases the reason4 ,the agreeable only pleases by its matter1 for it is only matter that can affect the senses1 and all that is form can only please the reason4 ,it is true that the beautiful only pleases through the medium of the senses1 by which it is distinguished from the good2 but it pleases reason1 on account of its form1 by which it is essentially distinguished from the agreeable4 ,it might be said that the good pleases only by its form being in harmony with reason2 the beautiful by its form having some relation of resemblance with reason1 and that the agreeable absolutely does not please by its form4 ,the good is perceived by thought1 the beautiful by intuition1 and the agreeable only by the senses4 ,the first pleases by the conception1 the second by the idea1 and the third by material sensation4 ,the distance between the good and the agreeable is that which strikes the eyes the most4 ,the good widens our understanding1 because it procures and supposes an idea of its object2 the pleasure which it makes us perceive rests on an objective foundation1 even when this pleasure itself is but a certain state in which we are situated4 ,the agreeable1 on the contrary1 produces no notion of its object1 and1 indeed1 reposes on no objective foundation4 ,it is agreeable only inasmuch as it is felt by the subject1 and the idea of it completely vanishes the moment an obstruction is placed on the affectibility of the senses1 or only when it is modified4 ,for a man who feels the cold the agreeable would be a warm air2 but this same man1 in the heat of summer1 would seek the shade and coolness2 but we must agree that in both cases he has judged well4 ,on the other hand1 that which is objective is altogether independent of us1 and that which to-day appears to us true1 useful1 reasonable1 ought yet 7if this judgment of to-day be admitted as just7 to seem to us the same twenty years hence4 ,but our judgment of the agreeable changes as soon as our state1 with regard to its object1 has changed4 ,the agreeable is therefore not a property of the object2 it springs entirely from the relations of such an object with our senses1 for the constitution of our senses is a necessary condition thereof4 ,the good1 on the contrary1 is good in itself1 before being represented to us1 and before being felt4 ,the property by which it pleases exists fully in itself without being in want of our subject1 although the pleasure which we take in it rests on an aptitude for feeling that which is in us4 ,thus we can say that the agreeable exists only because it is experienced1 and that the good1 on the contrary1 is experienced because it exists4 ,the distinction between the beautiful and the agreeable1 great as it is1 moreover1 strikes the eye less4 ,the beautiful approaches the agreeable in this--that it must always be proposed to the senses1 inasmuch as it pleases only as a phenomenon4 ,it comes near to it again in as far as it neither procures nor supposes any notion of its object4 ,but1 on the other hand1 it is widely separated from the agreeable1 because it pleases by the form under which it is produced1 and not by the fact of the material sensation4 ,no doubt it only pleases the reasonable subject in so far as it is also a sensuous subject2 but also it pleases the sensuous subject only inasmuch as it is at the same time a reasonable subject4 ,the beautiful is not only pleasing to the individual but to the whole species2 and although it draws its existence but from its relation with creatures at the same time reasonable and sensuous1 it is not less independent of all empirical limitations of sensuousness1 and it remains identical even when the particular constitution of the individual is modified4 ,the beautiful has exactly in common with the good that by which it differs from the agreeable1 and it differs from the good exactly in that in which it approximates to the agreeable4 ,by the good we must understand that in which reason recognizes a conformity with her theoretical and practical laws4 ,but the same object can be perfectly conformable to the theoretical reason1 and not be the less in contradiction in the highest degree with the practical reason4 ,we can disapprove of the end of an enterprise1 and yet admire the skill of the means and their relation with the end in view4 ,we can despise the pleasures which the voluptuous man makes the end of his life1 and nevertheless praise the skill which he exhibits in the choice of his means1 and the logical result with which he carries out his principles4 ,that which pleases us only by its form is good1 absolutely good1 and without any conditions1 when its form is at the same time its matter4 ,the good is also an object of sensuousness1 but not of an immediate sensuousness1 as the agreeable1 nor moreover of a mixed sensuousness1 as the beautiful4 ,it does not excite desire as the first1 nor inclination as the second4 ,the simple idea of the good inspires only esteem4 ,the difference separating the agreeable1 the good1 and the beautiful being thus established1 it is evident that the same object can be ugly1 defective1 even to be morally rejected1 and nevertheless be agreeable and pleasing to the senses2 that an object can revolt the senses1 and yet be good1 i4e41 please the reason2 that an object can from its inmost nature revolt the moral senses1 and yet please the imagination which contemplates it1 and still be beautiful4 ,it is because each one of these ideas interests different faculties1 and interests differently4 ,but have we exhausted the classification of the aesthetic attributes8 ,no1 there are objects at the same time ugly1 revolting1 and horrifying to the senses1 which do not please the understanding1 and of no account to the moral judgment1 and these objects do not fail to please2 certainly to please to such a degree1 that we would willingly sacrifice the pleasure of these senses and that of the understanding to procure for us the enjoyment of these objects4 ,there is nothing more attractive in nature than a beautiful landscape1 illuminated by the purple light of evening4 ,the rich variety of the objects1 the mellow outlines1 the play of lights infinitely varying the aspect1 the light vapors which envelop distant objects1--all combine in charming the senses2 and add to it1 to increase our pleasure1 the soft murmur of a cascade1 the song of the nightingales1 an agreeable music4 ,we give ourselves up to a soft sensation of repose1 and whilst our senses1 touched by the harmony of the colors1 the forms1 and the sounds1 experience the agreeable in the highest1 the mind is rejoiced by the easy and rich flow of the ideas1 the heart by the sentiments which overflow in it like a torrent4 ,all at once a storm springs up1 darkening the sky and all the landscape1 surpassing and silencing all other noises1 and suddenly taking from us all our pleasures4 ,black clouds encircle the horizon2 the thunder falls with a deafening noise4 ,flash succeeds flash4 ,our sight and hearing is affected in the most revolting manner4 ,the lightning only appears to render to us more visible the horrors of the night3 we see the electric fluid strike1 nay1 we begin to fear lest it may strike us4 ,well1 that does not prevent us from believing that we have gained more than lost by the change2 ,i except1 of course1 those whom fear has bereft of all liberty of judgment4 ,we are1 on the one hand1 forcibly drawn towards this terrible spectacle1 which on the other wounds and repulses our senses1 and we pause before it with a feeling which we cannot properly call a pleasure1 but one which we often like much more than pleasure4 ,but still1 the spectacle that nature then offers to us is in itself rather destructive than good 7at all events we in no way need to think of the utility of a storm to take pleasure in this phenomenon71 is in itself rather ugly than beautiful1 for the darkness1 hiding from us all the images which light affords1 cannot be in itself a pleasant thing2 and those sudden crashes with which the thunder shakes the atmosphere1 those sudden flashes when the lightning rends the cloud--all is contrary to one of the essential conditions of the beautiful1 which carries with it nothing abrupt1 nothing violent4 ,and moreover this phenomenon1 if we consider only our senses1 is rather painful than agreeable1 for the nerves of our sight and those of our hearing are each in their turn painfully strained1 then not less violently relaxed1 by the alternations of light and darkness1 of the explosion of the thunder1 and silence4 ,and in spite of all these causes of displeasure1 a storm is an attractive phenomenon for whomsoever is not afraid of it4 ,another example4 ,in the midst of a green and smiling plain there rises a naked and barren hillock1 which hides from the sight a part of the view4 ,each one would wish that this hillock were removed which disfigures the beauty of all the landscape4 ,well1 let us imagine this hillock rising1 rising still1 without indeed changing at all its shape1 and preserving1 although on a greater scale1 the same proportions between its width and height4 ,to begin with1 our impression of displeasure will but increase with the hillock itself1 which will the more strike the sight1 and which will be the more repulsive4 ,but continue2 raise it up twice as high as a tower1 and insensibly the displeasure will efface itself to make way for quite another feeling4 ,the hill has at last become a mountain1 so high a mountain that it is quite impossible for our eyes to take it in at one look4 ,there is an object more precocious than all this smiling plain which surrounds it1 and the impression that it makes on us is of such a nature that we should regret to exchange it for any other impression1 however beautiful it might be4 ,now1 suppose this mountain to be leaning1 and of such an inclination that we could expect it every minute to crash down1 the previous impression will be complicated with another impression3 terror will be joined to it3 the object itself will be but still more attractive4 ,but suppose it were possible to prop up this leaning mountain with another mountain1 the terror would disappear1 and with it a good part of the pleasure we experienced4 ,suppose that there were beside this mountain four or five other mountains1 of which each one was a fourth or a fifth part lower than the one which came immediately after2 the first impression with which the height of one mountain inspired us will be notably weakened4 ,something somewhat analogous would take place if the mountain itself were cut into ten or twelve terraces1 uniformly diminishing2 or again if it were artificially decorated with plantations4 ,we have at first subjected one mountain to no other operation than that of increasing its size1 leaving it otherwise just as it was1 and without altering its form2 and this simple circumstance has sufficed to make an indifferent or even disagreeable object satisfying to the eyes4 ,by the second operation1 this enlarged object has become at the same time an object of terror2 and the pleasure which we have found in contemplating it has but been the greater4 ,finally1 by the last operation which we have made1 we have diminished the terror which its sight occasioned1 and the pleasure has diminished as much4 ,we have diminished subjectively the idea of its height1 whether by dividing the attention of the spectator between several objects1 or in giving to the eyes1 by means of these smaller mountains1 placed near to the large one1 a measure by which to master the height of the mountain all the more easily4 ,the great and the terrible can therefore be of themselves in certain cases a source of aesthetic pleasure4 ,there is not in the ,greek mythology a more terrible1 and at the same time more hideous1 picture than the ,furies1 or ,erinyes1 quitting the infernal regions to throw themselves in the pursuit of a criminal4 ,their faces frightfully contracted and grimacing1 their fleshless bodies1 their heads covered with serpents in the place of hair--revolt our senses as much as they offend our taste4 ,however1 when these monsters are represented to us in the pursuit of ,orestes1 the murderer of his mother1 when they are shown to us brandishing the torches in their hands1 and chasing their prey1 without peace or truce1 from country to country1 until at last1 the anger of justice being appeased1 they engulf themselves in the abyss of the infernal regions2 then we pause before the picture with a horror mixed with pleasure4 ,but not only the remorse of a criminal which is personified by the ,furies1 even his unrighteous acts nay1 the real perpetration of a crime1 are able to please us in a work of art4 ,medea1 in the ,greek tragedy2 ,clytemnestra1 who takes the life of her husband2 ,orestes1 who kills his mother1 fill our soul with horror and with pleasure4 ,even in real life1 indifferent and even repulsive or frightful objects begin to interest us the moment that they approach the monstrous or the terrible4 ,an altogether vulgar and insignificant man will begin to please us the moment that a violent passion1 which indeed in no way upraises his personal value1 makes him an object of fear and terror1 in the same way that a vulgar1 meaningless object becomes to us the source of aesthetic pleasure the instant we have enlarged it to the point where it threatens to overstep our comprehension4 ,an ugly man is made still more ugly by passion1 and nevertheless it is in bursts of this passion1 provided that it turns to the terrible and not to the ridiculous1 that this man will be to us of the most interest4 ,this remark extends even to animals4 ,an ox at the plow1 a horse before a carriage1 a dog1 are common objects2 but excite this bull to the combat1 enrage this horse who is so peaceable1 or represent to yourself this dog a prey to madness2 instantly these animals are raised to the rank of aesthetic objects1 and we begin to regard them with a feeling which borders on pleasure and esteem4 ,the inclination to the pathetic--an inclination common to all men--the strength of the sympathetic sentiment--this force which in mature makes us wish to see suffering1 terror1 dismay1 which has so many attractions for us in art1 which makes us hurry to the theatre1 which makes us take so much pleasure in the picturing of great misfortune1--all this bears testimony to a fourth source of aesthetic pleasure1 which neither the agreeable1 nor the good1 nor the beautiful are in a state to produce4 ,all the examples that ,i have alleged up to the present have this in common--that the feeling they excite in us rests on something objective4 ,in all these phenomena we receive the idea of something which oversteps1 or which threatens to overstep1 the power of comprehension of our senses1 or their power of resistance2 but not1 however1 going so far as to paralyze these two powers1 or so far as to render us incapable of striving1 either to know the object1 or to resist the impression it makes on us4 ,there is in the phenomena a complexity which we cannot retrace to unity without driving the intuitive faculty to its furthest limits4 ,we have the idea of a force in comparison with which our own vanishes1 and which we are nevertheless compelled to compare with our own4 ,either it is an object which at the same time presents and hides itself from our faculty of intuition1 and which urges us to strive to represent it to ourselves1 without leaving room to hope that this aspiration will be satisfied2 or else it is an object which appears to upraise itself as an enemy1 even against our existence--which provokes us1 so to say1 to combat1 and makes us anxious as to the issue4 ,in all the alleged examples there is visible in the same way the same action on the faculty of feeling4 ,all throw our souls into an anxious agitation and strain its springs4 ,a certain gravity which can even raise itself to a solemn rejoicing takes possession of our soul1 and whilst our organs betray evident signs of internal anxiety1 our mind falls back on itself by reflection1 and appears to find a support in a higher consciousness of its independent strength and dignity4 ,this consciousness of ourselves must always dominate in order that the great and the horrible may have for us an aesthetic value4 ,it is because the soul before such sights as these feels itself inspired and lifted above itself that they are designated under the name of sublime1 although the things themselves are objectively in no way sublime2 and consequently it would be more just to say that they are elevating than to call them in themselves elevated or sublime4 ,for an object to be called sublime it must be in opposition with our sensuousness4 ,in general it is possible to conceive but two different relations between the objects and our sensuousness1 and consequently there ought to be two kinds of resistance4 ,they ought either to be considered as objects from which we wish to draw a knowledge1 or else they should be regarded as a force with which we compare our own4 ,according to this division there are two kinds of the sublime1 the sublime of knowledge and the sublime of force4 ,moreover1 the sensuous faculties contribute to knowledge only in grasping a given matter1 and putting one by the other its complexity in time and in space4 ,as to dissecting this complex property and assorting it1 it is the business of the understanding and not of the imagination4 ,it is for the understanding alone that the diversity exists3 for the imagination 7considered simply as a sensuous faculty7 there is but an uniformity1 and consequently it is but the number of the uniform things 7the quantity and not the quality7 which can give origin to any difference between the sensuous perception of phenomena4 ,thus1 in order that the faculty of picturing things sensuously maybe reduced to impotence before an object1 necessarily it is imperative that this object exceeds in its quantity the capacity of our imagination4 ,,on ,,simple ,,and ,,sentimental ,,poetry4 ,there are moments in life when nature inspires us with a sort of love and respectful emotion1 not because she is pleasing to our senses1 or because she satisfies our mind or our taste 7it is often the very opposite that happens71 but merely because she is nature4 ,this feeling is often elicited when nature is considered in her plants1 in her mineral kingdom1 in rural districts2 also in the case of human nature1 in the case of children1 and in the manners of country people and of the primitive races4 ,every man of refined feeling1 provided he has a soul1 experiences this feeling when he walks out under the open sky1 when he lives in the country1 or when he stops to contemplate the monuments of early ages2 in short1 when escaping from factitious situations and relations1 he finds himself suddenly face to face with nature4 ,this interest1 which is often exalted in us so as to become a want1 is the explanation of many of our fancies for flowers and for animals1 our preference for gardens laid out in the natural style1 our love of walks1 of the country and those who live there1 of a great number of objects proceeding from a remote antiquity1 etc4 ,it is taken for granted that no affectation exists in the matter1 and moreover that no accidental interest comes into play4 ,but this sort of interest which we take in nature is only possible under two conditions4 ,first the object that inspires us with this feeling must be really nature1 or something we take for nature2 secondly this object must be in the full sense of the word simple1 that is1 presenting the entire contrast of nature with art1 all the advantage remaining on the side of nature4 ,directly this second condition is united to the first1 but no sooner1 nature assumes the character of simplicity4 ,considered thus1 nature is for us nothing but existence in all its freedom2 it is the constitution of things taken in themselves2 it is existence itself according to its proper and immutable laws4 ,it is strictly necessary that we should have this idea of nature to take an interest in phenomena of this kind4 ,if we conceive an artificial flower so perfectly imitated that it has all the appearance of nature and would produce the most complete illusion1 or if we imagine the imitation of simplicity carried out to the extremest degree1 the instant we discover it is only an imitation1 the feeling of which ,i have been speaking is completely destroyed4 ,it is1 therefore1 quite evident that this kind of satisfaction which nature causes us to feel is not a satisfaction of the aesthetical taste1 but a satisfaction of the moral sense2 for it is produced by means of a conception and not immediately by the single fact of intuition3 accordingly it is by no means determined by the different degrees of beauty in forms4 ,for1 after all1 is there anything so specially charming in a flower of common appearance1 in a spring1 a moss-covered stone1 the warbling of birds1 or the buzzing of bees1 etc48 ,what is that can give these objects a claim to our love8 ,it is not these objects in themselves2 it is an idea represented by them that we love in them4 ,we love in them life and its latent action1 the effects peacefully produced by beings of themselves1 existence under its proper laws1 the inmost necessity of things1 the eternal unity of their nature4 ,these objects which captivate us are what we were1 what we must be again some day4 ,we were nature as they are2 and culture1 following the way of reason and of liberty1 must bring us back to nature4 ,accordingly1 these objects are an image of our infancy irrevocably past--of our infancy which will remain eternally very dear to us1 and thus they infuse a certain melancholy into us2 they are also the image of our highest perfection in the ideal world1 whence they excite a sublime emotion in us4 ,but the perfection of these objects is not a merit that belongs to them1 because it is not the effect of their free choice4 ,accordingly they procure quite a peculiar pleasure for us1 by being our models without having anything humiliating for us4 ,it is like a constant manifestation of the divinity surrounding us1 which refreshes without dazzling us4 ,the very feature that constitutes their character is precisely what is lacking in ours to make it complete2 and what distinguishes us from them is precisely what they lack to be divine4 ,we are free and they are necessary2 we change and they remain identical4 ,now it is only when these two conditions are united1 when the will submits freely to the laws of necessity1 and when1 in the midst of all the changes of which the imagination is susceptible1 reason maintains its rule--it is only then that the divine or the ideal is manifested4 ,thus we perceive eternally in them that which we have not1 but which we are continually forced to strive after2 that which we can never reach1 but which we can hope to approach by continual progress4 ,and we perceive in ourselves an advantage which they lack1 but in which some of them--the beings deprived of reason--cannot absolutely share1 and in which the others1 such as children1 can only one day have a share by following our way4 ,accordingly1 they procure us the most delicious feeling of our human nature1 as an idea1 though in relation to each determinate state of our nature they cannot fail to humble us4 ,as this interest in nature is based on an idea1 it can only manifest itself in a soul capable of ideas1 that is1 in a moral soul4 ,for the immense majority it is nothing more than pure affectation2 and this taste of sentimentality so widely diffused in our day1 manifesting itself1 especially since the appearance of certain books1 by sentimental excursions and journeys1 by sentimental gardens1 and other fancies akin to these--this taste by no means proves that true refinement of sense has become general4 ,nevertheless1 it is certain that nature will always produce something of this impression1 even on the most insensible hearts1 because all that is required for this is the moral disposition or aptitude1 which is common to all men4 ,for all men1 however contrary their acts may be to simplicity and to the truth of nature1 are brought back to it in their ideas4 ,this sensibility in connection with nature is specially and most strongly manifested1 in the greater part of persons1 in connection with those sorts of objects which are closely related to us1 and which1 causing us to look closer into ourselves1 show us more clearly what in us departs from nature2 for example1 in connection with children1 or with nations in a state of infancy4 ,it is an error to suppose that it is only the idea of their weakness that1 in certain moments1 makes us dwell with our eyes on children with so much emotion4 ,this may be true with those who1 in the presence of a feeble being1 are used to feel nothing but their own superiority4 ,but the feeling of which ,i speak is only experienced in a very peculiar moral disposition1 nor must it be confounded with the feeling awakened in us by the joyous activity of children4 ,the feeling of which ,i speak is calculated rather to humble than to flatter our self-love2 and if it gives us the idea of some advantage1 this advantage is at all events not on our side4 ,we are moved in the presence of childhood1 but it is not because from the height of our strength and of our perfection we drop a look of pity on it2 it is1 on the contrary1 because from the depths of our impotence1 of which the feeling is inseparable from that of the real and determinate state to which we have arrived1 we raise our eyes to the child's determinableness and pure innocence4 ,the feeling we then experience is too evidently mingled with sadness for us to mistake its source4 ,in the child1 all is disposition and destination2 in us1 all is in the state of a completed1 finished thing1 and the completion always remains infinitely below the destination4 ,it follows that the child is to us like the representation of the ideal2 not1 indeed1 of the ideal as we have realized it1 but such as our destination admitted2 and1 consequently1 it is not at all the idea of its indigence1 of its hinderances1 that makes us experience emotion in the child's presence2 it is1 on the contrary1 the idea of its pure and free force1 of the integrity1 the infinity of its being4 ,this is the reason why1 in the sight of every moral and sensible man1 the child will always be a sacred thing2 ,i mean an object which1 by the grandeur of an idea1 reduces to nothingness all grandeur realized by experience2 an object which1 in spite of all it may lose in the judgment of the understanding1 regains largely the advantage before the judgment of reason4 ,now it is precisely this contradiction between the judgment of reason and that of the understanding which produces in us this quite special phenomenon1 this mixed feeling1 called forth in us by the sight of the simple--,i mean the simple in the manner of thinking4 ,it is at once the idea of a childlike simplicity and of a childish simplicity4 ,by what it has of childish simplicity it exposes a weak side to the understanding1 and provokes in us that smile by which we testify our superiority 7an entirely speculative superiority74 ,but directly we have reason to think that childish simplicity is at the same time a childlike simplicity--that it is not consequently a want of intelligence1 an infirmity in a theoretical point of view1 but a superior force 7practically71 a heart-full of truth and innocence1 which is its source1 a heart that has despised the help of art because it was conscious of its real and internal greatness--directly this is understood1 the understanding no longer seeks to triumph4 ,then raillery1 which was directed against simpleness1 makes way for the admiration inspired by noble simplicity4 ,we feel ourselves obliged to esteem this object1 which at first made us smile1 and directing our eyes to ourselves1 to feel ourselves unhappy in not resembling it4 ,thus is produced that very special phenomenon of a feeling in which good-natured raillery1 respect1 and sadness are confounded4 ,it is the condition of the simple that nature should triumph over art1 either unconsciously to the individual and against his inclination1 or with his full and entire cognizance4 ,in the former case it is simplicity as a surprise1 and the impression resulting from it is one of gayety2 in the second case1 it is simplicity of feeling1 and we are moved4 ,with regard to simplicity as a surprise1 the person must be morally capable of denying nature4 ,in simplicity of feeling the person may be morally incapable of this1 but we must not think him physically incapable1 in order that it may make upon us the impression of the simple4 ,this is the reason why the acts and words of children only produce the impression of simplicity upon us when we forget that they are physically incapable of artifice1 and in general only when we are exclusively impressed by the contrast between their natural character and what is artificial in us4 ,simplicity is a childlike ingenuousness which is encountered when it is not expected2 and it is for this very reason that1 taking the word in its strictest sense1 simplicity could not be attributed to childhood properly speaking4 ,but in both cases1 in simplicity as a surprise and simplicity as a feeling1 nature must always have the upper hand1 and art succumb to her4 ,until we have established this distinction we can only form an incomplete idea of simplicity4 ,the affections are also something natural1 and the rules of decency are artificial2 yet the triumph of the affections over decency is anything but simple4 ,but when affection triumphs over artifice1 over false decency1 over dissimulation1 we shall have no difficulty in applying the word simple to this4 ,nature must therefore triumph over art1 not by its blind and brutal force as a dynamical power1 but in virtue of its form as a moral magnitude2 in a word1 not as a want1 but as an internal necessity4 ,it must not be insufficiency1 but the inopportune character of the latter that gives nature her victory2 for insufficiency is only a want and a defect1 and nothing that results from a want or defect could produce esteem4 ,no doubt in the simplicity resulting from surprise1 it is always the predominance of affection and a want of reflection that causes us to appear natural4 ,but this want and this predominance do not by any means suffice to constitute simplicity2 they merely give occasion to nature to obey without let or hinderance her moral constitution1 that is1 the law of harmony4 ,the simplicity resulting from surprise can only be encountered in man and that only in as far as at the moment he ceases to be a pure and innocent nature4 ,this sort of simplicity implies a will that is not in harmony with that which nature does of her own accord4 ,a person simple after this fashion1 when recalled to himself1 will be the first to be alarmed at what he is2 on the other hand1 a person in whom simplicity is found as a feeling1 will only wonder at one thing1 that is1 at the way in which men feel astonishment4 ,as it is not the moral subject as a person1 but only his natural character set free by affection1 that confesses the truth1 it follows from this that we shall not attribute this sincerity to man as a merit1 and that we shall be entitled to laugh at it1 our raillery not being held in check by any personal esteem for his character4 ,nevertheless1 as it is still the sincerity of nature which1 even in the simplicity caused by surprise1 pierces suddenly through the veil of dissimulation1 a satisfaction of a superior order is mixed with the mischievous joy we feel in having caught any one in the act4 ,this is because nature1 opposed to affectation1 and truth1 opposed to deception1 must in every case inspire us with esteem4 ,thus we experience1 even in the presence of simplicity originating in surprise1 a really moral pleasure1 though it be not in connection with a moral object4 ,i admit that in simplicity proceeding from surprise we always experience a feeling of esteem for nature1 because we must esteem truth2 whereas in the simplicity of feeling we esteem the person himself1 enjoying in this way not only a moral satisfaction1 but also a satisfaction of which the object is moral4 ,in both cases nature is right1 since she speaks the truth2 but in the second case not only is nature right1 but there is also an act that does honor to the person4 ,in the first case the sincerity of nature always puts the person to the blush1 because it is involuntary2 in the second it is always a merit which must be placed to the credit of the person1 even when what he confesses is of a nature to cause a blush4 ,we attribute simplicity of feeling to a man1 when1 in the judgments he pronounces on things1 he passes1 without seeing them1 over all the factitious and artificial sides of an object1 to keep exclusively to simple nature4 ,we require of him all the judgments that can be formed of things without departing from a sound nature2 and we only hold him entirely free in what presupposes a departure from nature in his mode of thinking or feeling4 ,if a father relates to his son that such and such a person is dying of hunger1 and if the child goes and carries the purse of his father to this unfortunate being1 this is a simple action4 ,it is in fact a healthy nature that acts in the child2 and in a world where healthy nature would be the law1 he would be perfectly right to act so4 ,he only sees the misery of his neighbor and the speediest means of relieving him4 ,the extension given to the right of property1 in consequence of which part of the human race might perish1 is not based on mere nature4 ,thus the act of this child puts to shame real society1 and this is acknowledged by our heart in the pleasure it experiences from this action4 ,if a good-hearted man1 inexperienced in the ways of the world1 confides his secrets to another1 who deceives him1 but who is skilful in disguising his perfidy1 and if by his very sincerity he furnishes him with the means of doing him injury1 we find his conduct simple4 ,we laugh at him1 yet we cannot avoid esteeming him1 precisely on account of his simplicity4 ,this is because his trust in others proceeds from the rectitude of his own heart2 at all events1 there is simplicity here only as far as this is the case4 ,simplicity in the mode of thinking cannot then ever be the act of a depraved man2 this quality only belongs to children1 and to men who are children in heart4 ,it often happens to these in the midst of the artificial relations of the great world to act or to think in a simple manner4 ,being themselves of a truly good and humane nature1 they forget that they have to do with a depraved world2 and they act1 even in the courts of kings1 with an ingenuousness and an innocence that are only found in the world of pastoral idyls4 ,nor is it always such an easy matter to distinguish exactly childish candor from childlike candor1 for there are actions that are on the skirts of both4 ,is a certain act foolishly simple1 and must we laugh at it8 or is it nobly simple1 and must we esteem the actors the higher on that account8 ,it is difficult to know which side to take in some cases4 ,a very remarkable example of this is found in the history of the government of ,pope ,adrian ,,vi41 related by ,mr4 ,schroeckh with all the solidity and the spirit of practical truth which distinguish him4 ,adrian1 a ,netherlander by birth1 exerted the pontifical sway at one of the most critical moments for the hierarchy--at a time when an exasperated party laid bare without any scruple all the weak sides of the ,roman ,church1 while the opposite party was interested in the highest degree in covering them over4 ,i do not entertain the question how a man of a truly simple character ought to act in such a case1 if such a character were placed in the papal chair4 ,but1 we ask1 how could this simplicity of feeling be compatible with the part of a pope8 ,this question gave indeed very little embarrassment to the predecessors and successors of ,adrian4 ,they followed uniformly the system adopted once for all by the court of ,rome1 not to make any concessions anywhere4 ,but ,adrian had preserved the upright character of his nation and the innocence of his previous condition4 ,issuing from the humble sphere of literary men to rise to this eminent position1 he did not belie at that elevation the primitive simplicity of his character4 ,he was moved by the abuses of the ,roman ,church1 and he was much too sincere to dissimulate publicly what he confessed privately4 ,it was in consequence of this manner of thinking that1 in his instruction to his legate in ,germany1 he allowed himself to be drawn into avowals hitherto unheard of in a sovereign pontiff1 and diametrically contrary to the principles of that court ,we know well1 he said1 among other things1 that for many years many abominable things have taken place in this holy chair2 it is not therefore astonishing that the evil has been propagated from the head to the members1 from the pope to the prelates4 ,we have all gone astray from the good road1 and for a long time there is none of us1 not one1 who has done anything good4 ,elsewhere he orders his legate to declare in his name that he1 ,adrian1 cannot be blamed for what other popes have done before him2 that he himself1 when he occupied a comparatively mediocre position1 had always condemned these excesses4 ,it may easily be conceived how such simplicity in a pope must have been received by the ,roman clergy4 ,the smallest crime of which he was accused was that of betraying the church and delivering it over to heretics4 ,now this proceeding1 supremely imprudent in a pope1 would yet deserve our esteem and admiration if we could believe it was real simplicity2 that is1 that ,adrian1 without fear of consequences1 had made such an avowal1 moved by his natural sincerity1 and that he would have persisted in acting thus1 though he had understood all the drift of his clumsiness4 ,unhappily we have some reason to believe that he did not consider his conduct as altogether impolitic1 and that in his candor he went so far as to flatter himself that he had served very usefully the interests of his church by his indulgence to his adversaries4 ,he did not even imagine that he ought to act thus in his quality as an honest man2 he thought also as a pope to be able to justify himself1 and forgetting that the most artificial of structures could only be supported by continuing to deny the truth1 he committed the unpardonable fault of having recourse to means of safety1 excellent perhaps1 in a natural situation1 but here applied to entirely contrary circumstances4 ,this necessarily modifies our judgment very much1 and although we cannot refuse our esteem for the honesty of heart in which the act originates1 this esteem is greatly lessened when we reflect that nature on this occasion was too easily mistress of art1 and that the heart too easily overruled the head4 ,true genius is of necessity simple1 or it is not genius4 ,simplicity alone gives it this character1 and it cannot belie in the moral order what it is in the intellectual and aesthetical order4 ,it does not know those rules1 the crutches of feebleness1 those pedagogues which prop up slippery spirits2 it is only guided by nature and instinct1 its guardian angel2 it walks with a firm1 calm step across all the snares of false taste1 snares in which the man without genius1 if he have not the prudence to avoid them the moment he detects them1 remains infallibly imbedded4 ,it is therefore the part only of genius to issue from the known without ceasing to be at home1 or to enlarge the circle of nature without overstepping it4 ,it does indeed sometimes happen that a great genius oversteps it2 but only because geniuses have their moments of frenzy1 when nature1 their protector1 abandons them1 because the force of example impels them1 or because the corrupt taste of their age leads them astray4 ,the most intricate problems must be solved by genius with simplicity1 without pretension1 with ease2 the egg of ,christopher ,columbus is the emblem of all the discoveries of genius4 ,it only justifies its character as genius by triumphing through simplicity over all the complications of art4 ,it does not proceed according to known principles1 but by feelings and inspiration2 the sallies of genius are the inspirations of a ,god 7all that healthy nature produces is divine72 its feelings are laws for all time1 for all human generations4 ,this childlike character imprinted by genius on its works is also shown by it in its private life and manners4 ,it is modest1 because nature is always so2 but it is not decent1 because corruption alone is decent4 ,it is intelligent1 because nature cannot lack intelligence2 but it is not cunning1 because art only can be cunning4 ,it is faithful to its character and inclinations1 but this is not so much because it has principles as because nature1 notwithstanding all its oscillations1 always returns to its equilibrium1 and brings back the same wants4 ,it is modest and even timid1 because genius remains always a secret to itself2 but it is not anxious1 because it does not know the dangers of the road in which it walks4 ,we know little of the private life of the greatest geniuses2 but the little that we know of it--what tradition has preserved1 for example1 of ,sophocles1 of ,archimedes1 of ,hippocrates1 and in modern times of ,ariosto1 of ,dante1 of ,tasso1 of ,raphael1 of ,albert ,duerer1 of ,cervantes1 of ,shakespeare1 of ,fielding1 of ,sterne1 etc4-- confirms this assertion4 ,nay1 more2 though this admission seems more difficult to support1 even the greatest philosophers and great commanders1 if great by their genius1 have simplicity in their character4 ,among the ancients ,i need only name ,julius ,caesar and ,epaminondas2 among the moderns ,henry ,,iv4 in ,france1 ,gustavus ,adolphus in ,sweden1 and the ,czar ,peter the ,great4 ,the ,duke of ,marlborough1 ,turenne1 and ,vendome all present this character4 ,with regard to the other sex1 nature proposes to it simplicity of character as the supreme perfection to which it should reach4 ,accordingly1 the love of pleasing in women strives after nothing so much as the appearance of simplicity2 a sufficient proof1 if it were the only one1 that the greatest power of the sex reposes in this quality4 ,but1 as the principles that prevail in the education of women are perpetually struggling with this character1 it is as difficult for them in the moral order to reconcile this magnificent gift of nature with the advantages of a good education as it is difficult for men to preserve them unchanged in the intellectual order3 and the woman who knows how to join a knowledge of the world to this sort of simplicity in manners is as deserving of respect as a scholar who joins to the strictness of scholastic rules the freedom and originality of thought4 ,simplicity in our mode of thinking brings with it of necessity simplicity in our mode of expression1 simplicity in terms as well as movement2 and it is in this that grace especially consists4 ,genius expresses its most sublime and its deepest thoughts with this simple grace2 they are the divine oracles that issue from the lips of a child2 while the scholastic spirit1 always anxious to avoid error1 tortures all its words1 all its ideas1 and makes them pass through the crucible of grammar and logic1 hard and rigid1 in order to keep from vagueness1 and uses few words in order not to say too much1 enervates and blunts thought in order not to wound the reader who is not on his guard--genius gives to its expression1 with a single and happy stroke of the brush1 a precise1 firm1 and yet perfectly free form4 ,in the case of grammar and logic1 the sign and the thing signified are always heterogenous and strangers to each other3 with genius1 on the contrary1 the expression gushes forth spontaneously from the idea1 the language and the thought are one and the same2 so that even though the expression thus gives it a body the spirit appears as if disclosed in a nude state4 ,this fashion of expression1 when the sign disappears entirely in the thing signified1 when the tongue1 so to speak1 leaves the thought it translates naked1 whilst the other mode of expression cannot represent thought without veiling it at the same time3 this is what is called originality and inspiration in style4 ,this freedom1 this natural mode by which genius expresses itself in works of intellect1 is also the expression of the innocence of heart in the intercourse of life4 ,every one knows that in the world men have departed from simplicity1 from the rigorous veracity of language1 in the same proportion as they have lost the simplicity of feelings4 ,the guilty conscience easily wounded1 the imagination easily seduced1 made an anxious decency necessary4 ,without telling what is false1 people often speak differently from what they think2 we are obliged to make circumlocutions to say certain things1 which however1 can never afflict any but a sickly self-love1 and that have no danger except for a depraved imagination4 ,the ignorance of these laws of propriety 7conventional laws71 coupled with a natural sincerity which despises all kinds of bias and all appearance of falsity 7sincerity ,i mean1 not coarseness1 for coarseness dispenses with forms because it is hampered71 gives rise in the intercourse of life to a simplicity of expression that consists in naming things by their proper name without circumlocution4 ,this is done because we do not venture to designate them as they are1 or only to do so by artificial means4 ,the ordinary expressions of children are of this kind4 ,they make us smile because they are in opposition to received manners2 but men would always agree in the bottom of their hearts that the child is right4 ,it is true that simplicity of feeling cannot properly be attributed to the child any more than to the man1--that is1 to a being not absolutely subject to nature1 though there is still no simplicity1 except on the condition that it is pure nature that acts through him4 ,but by an effort of the imagination1 which likes to poetise things1 we often carry over these attributes of a rational being to beings destitute of reason4 ,it is thus that1 on seeing an animal1 a landscape1 a building1 and nature in general1 from opposition to what is arbitrary and fantastic in the conceptions of man1 we often attribute to them a simple character4 ,but that implies always that in our thought we attribute a will to these things that have none1 and that we are struck to see it directed rigorously according to the laws of necessity4 ,discontented as we are that we have ill employed our own moral freedom1 and that we no longer find moral harmony in our conduct1 we are easily led to a certain disposition of mind1 in which we willingly address ourselves to a being destitute of reason1 as if it were a person4 ,and we readily view it as if it had really had to struggle against the temptation of acting otherwise1 and proceed to make a merit of its eternal uniformity1 and to envy its peaceable constancy4 ,we are quite disposed to consider in those moments reason1 this prerogative of the human race1 as a pernicious gift and as an evil2 we feel so vividly all that is imperfect in our conduct that we forget to be just to our destiny and to our aptitudes4 ,we see1 then1 in nature1 destitute of reason1 only a sister who1 more fortunate than ourselves1 has remained under the maternal roof1 while in the intoxication of our freedom we have fled from it to throw ourselves into a stranger world4 ,we regret this place of safety1 we earnestly long to come back to it as soon as we have begun to feel the bitter side of civilization1 and in the totally artificial life in which we are exiled we hear in deep emotion the voice of our mother4 ,while we were still only children of nature we were happy1 we were perfect3 we have become free1 and we have lost both advantages4 ,hence a twofold and very unequal longing for nature3 the longing for happiness and the longing for the perfection that prevails there4 ,man1 as a sensuous being1 deplores sensibly the loss of the former of these goods2 it is only the moral man who can be afflicted at the loss of the other4 ,therefore1 let the man with a sensible heart and a loving nature question himself closely4 ,is it your indolence that longs for its repose1 or your wounded moral sense that longs for its harmony8 ,ask yourself well1 when1 disgusted with the artifices1 offended by the abuses that you discover in social life1 you feel yourself attracted towards inanimate nature1 in the midst of solitude ask yourself what impels you to fly the world4 ,is it the privation from which you suffer1 its loads1 its troubles8 or is it the moral anarchy1 the caprice1 the disorder that prevail there8 ,your heart ought to plunge into these troubles with joy1 and to find in them the compensation in the liberty of which they are the consequence4 ,you can1 ,i admit1 propose as your aim1 in a distant future1 the calm and the happiness of nature2 but only that sort of happiness which is the reward of your dignity4 ,thus1 then1 let there be no more complaint about the loads of life1 the inequality of conditions1 or the hampering of social relations1 or the uncertainty of possession1 ingratitude1 oppression1 and persecution4 ,you must submit to all these evils of civilization with a free resignation2 it is the natural condition of good1 par excellence1 of the only good1 and you ought to respect it under this head4 ,in all these evils you ought only to deplore what is morally evil in them1 and you must do so not with cowardly tears only4 ,rather watch to remain pure yourself in the midst of these impurities1 free amidst this slavery1 constant with yourself in the midst of these capricious changes1 a faithful observer of the law amidst this anarchy4 ,be not frightened at the disorder that is without you1 but at the disorder which is within2 aspire after unity1 but seek it not in uniformity2 aspire after repose1 but through equilibrium1 and not by suspending the action of your faculties4 ,this nature which you envy in the being destitute of reason deserves no esteem3 it is not worth a wish4 ,you have passed beyond it2 it ought to remain for ever behind you4 ,the ladder that carried you having given way under your foot1 the only thing for you to do is to seize again on the moral law freely1 with a free consciousness1 a free will1 or else to roll down1 hopeless of safety1 into a bottomless abyss4 ,but when you have consoled yourself for having lost the happiness of nature1 let its perfection be a model to your heart4 ,if you can issue from the circle in which art keeps you enclosed and find nature again1 if it shows itself to you in its greatness and in its calm1 in its simple beauty1 in its childlike innocence and simplicity1 oh6 then pause before its image1 cultivate this feeling lovingly4 ,it is worthy of you1 and of what is noblest in man4 ,let it no more come into your mind to change with it2 rather embrace it1 absorb it into your being1 and try to associate the infinite advantage it has over you with that infinite prerogative that is peculiar to you1 and let the divine issue from this sublime union4 ,let nature breathe around you like a lovely idyl1 where far from artifice and its wanderings you may always find yourself again1 where you may go to draw fresh courage1 a new confidence1 to resume your course1 and kindle again in your heart the flame of the ideal1 so readily extinguished amidst the tempests of life4 ,if we think of that beautiful nature which surrounded the ancient ,greeks1 if we remember how intimately that people1 under its blessed sky1 could live with that free nature2 how their mode of imagining1 and of feeling1 and their manners1 approached far nearer than ours to the simplicity of nature1 how faithfully the works of their poets express this2 we must necessarily remark1 as a strange fact1 that so few traces are met among them of that sentimental interest that we moderns ever take in the scenes of nature and in natural characters4 ,i admit that the ,greeks are superiorly exact and faithful in their descriptions of nature4 ,they reproduce their details with care1 but we see that they take no more interest in them and more heart in them than in describing a vestment1 a shield1 armor1 a piece of furniture1 or any production of the mechanical arts4 ,in their love for the object it seems that they make no difference between what exists in itself and what owes its existence to art1 to the human will4 ,it seems that nature interests their minds and their curiosity more than moral feeling4 ,they do not attach themselves to it with that depth of feeling1 with that gentle melancholy1 that characterize the moderns4 ,nay1 more1 by personifying nature in its particular phenomena1 by deifying it1 by representing its effects as the acts of free being1 they take from it that character of calm necessity which is precisely what makes it so attractive to us4 ,their impatient imagination only traverses nature to pass beyond it to the drama of human life4 ,it only takes pleasure in the spectacle of what is living and free2 it requires characters1 acts1 the accidents of fortune and of manners2 and whilst it happens with us1 at least in certain moral dispositions1 to curse our prerogative1 this free will1 which exposes us to so many combats with ourselves1 to so many anxieties and errors1 and to wish to exchange it for the condition of beings destitute of reason1 for that fatal existence that no longer admits of any choice1 but which is so calm in its uniformity2--while we do this1 the ,greeks1 on the contrary1 only have their imagination occupied in retracing human nature in the inanimate world1 and in giving to the will an influence where blind necessity rules4 ,whence can arise this difference between the spirit of the ancients and the modern spirit8 ,how comes it that1 being1 for all that relates to nature1 incomparably below the ancients1 we are superior to them precisely on this point1 that we render a more complete homage to nature2 that we have a closer attachment to it2 and that we are capable of embracing even the inanimate world with the most ardent sensibility4 ,it is because nature1 in our time1 is no longer in man1 and that we no longer encounter it in its primitive truth1 except out of humanity1 in the inanimate world4 ,it is not because we are more conformable to nature--quite the contrary2 it is because in our social relations1 in our mode of existence1 in our manners1 we are in opposition with nature4 ,this is what leads us1 when the instinct of truth and of simplicity is awakened--this instinct which1 like the moral aptitude from which it proceeds1 lives incorruptible and indelible in every human heart--to procure for it in the physical world the satisfaction which there is no hope of finding in the moral order4 ,this is the reason why the feeling that attaches us to nature is connected so closely with that which makes us regret our infancy1 forever flown1 and our primitive innocence4 ,our childhood is all that remains of nature in humanity1 such as civilization has made it1 of untouched1 unmutilated nature4 ,it is1 therefore1 not wonderful1 when we meet out of us the impress of nature1 that we are always brought back to the idea of our childhood4 ,it was quite different with the ,greeks in antiquity4 ,civilization with them did not degenerate1 nor was it carried to such an excess that it was necessary to break with nature4 ,the entire structure of their social life reposed on feelings1 and not on a factitious conception1 on a work of art4 ,their very theology was the inspiration of a simple spirit1 the fruit of a joyous imagination1 and not1 like the ecclesiastical dogmas of modern nations1 subtle combinations of the understanding4 ,since1 therefore1 the ,greeks had not lost sight of nature in humanity1 they had no reason1 when meeting it out of man1 to be surprised at their discovery1 and they would not feel very imperiously the need of objects in which nature could be retraced4 ,in accord with themselves1 happy in feeling themselves men1 they would of necessity keep to humanity as to what was greatest to them1 and they must needs try to make all the rest approach it2 while we1 who are not in accord with ourselves--we who are discontented with the experience we have made of our humanity--have no more pressing interest than to fly out of it and to remove from our sight a so ill-fashioned form4 ,the feeling of which we are treating here is1 therefore1 not that which was known by the ancients2 it approaches far more nearly that which we ourselves experience for the ancients4 ,the ancients felt naturally2 we1 on our part1 feel what is natural4 ,it was certainly a very different inspiration that filled the soul of ,homer1 when he depicted his divine cowherd ,dios uphorbos1 ,odyssey1 xiv4 #dac1 etc4 giving hospitality to ,ulysses1 from that which agitated the soul of the young ,werther at the moment when he read the ,odyssey ,werther1 ,may #bf1 ,june #ba1 ,august #bh1 ,may #i1 etc4 on issuing from an assembly in which he had only found tedium4 ,the feeling we experience for nature resembles that of a sick man for health4 ,as soon as nature gradually vanishes from human life--that is1 in proportion as it ceases to be experienced as a subject 7active and passive7--we see it dawn and increase in the poetical world in the guise of an idea and as an object4 ,the people who have carried farthest the want of nature1 and at the same time the reflections on that matter1 must needs have been the people who at the same time were most struck with this phenomenon of the simple1 and gave it a name4 ,if ,i am not mistaken1 this people was the ,french4 ,but the feeling of the simple1 and the interest we take in it1 must naturally go much farther back1 and it dates from the time when the moral sense and the aesthetical sense began to be corrupt4 ,this modification in the manner of feeling is exceedingly striking in ,euripides1 for example1 if compared with his predecessors1 especially ,aeschylus2 and yet ,euripides was the favorite poet of his time4 ,the same revolution is perceptible in the ancient historians4 ,horace1 the poet of a cultivated and corrupt epoch1 praises1 under the shady groves of ,tibur1 the calm and happiness of the country1 and he might be termed the true founder of this sentimental poetry1 of which he has remained the unsurpassed model4 ,in ,propertius1 ,virgil1 and others1 we find also traces of this mode of feeling2 less of it is found in ,ovid1 who would have required for that more abundance of heart1 and who in his exile at ,tomes sorrowfully regrets the happiness that ,horace so readily dispensed with in his villa at ,tibur4 ,it is in the fundamental idea of poetry that the poet is everywhere the guardian of nature4 ,when he can no longer entirely fill this part1 and has already in himself suffered the deleterious influence of arbitrary and factitious forms1 or has had to struggle against this influence1 he presents himself as the witness of nature and as its avenger4 ,the poet will1 therefore1 be the expression of nature itself1 or his part will be to seek it1 if men have lost sight of it4 ,hence arise two kinds of poetry1 which embrace and exhaust the entire field of poetry4 ,all poets --,i mean those who are really so--will belong1 according to the time when they flourish1 according to the accidental circumstances that have influenced their education generally1 and the different dispositions of mind through which they pass1 will belong1 ,i say1 to the order of the sentimental poetry or to simple poetry4 ,the poet of a young world1 simple and inspired1 as also the poet who at an epoch of artificial civilization approaches nearest to the primitive bards1 is austere and prudish1 like the virginal ,diana in her forests4 ,wholly unconfiding1 he hides himself from the heart that seeks him1 from the desire that wishes to embrace him4 ,it is not rare for the dry truth with which he treats his subject to resemble insensibility4 ,the whole object possesses him1 and to reach his heart it does not suffice1 as with metals of little value1 to stir up the surface2 as with pure gold1 you must go down to the lowest depths4 ,like the ,deity behind this universe1 the simple poet hides himself behind his work2 he is himself his work1 and his work is himself4 ,a man must be no longer worthy of the work1 nor understand it1 or be tired of it1 to be even anxious to learn who is its author4 ,such appears to us1 for instance1 ,homer in antiquity1 and ,shakespeare among moderns3 two natures infinitely different and separated in time by an abyss1 but perfectly identical as to this trait of character4 ,when1 at a very youthful age1 ,i became first acquainted with ,shakespeare1 ,i was displeased with his coldness1 with his insensibility1 which allows him to jest even in the most pathetic moments1 to disturb the impression of the most harrowing scenes in ,hamlet1 in ,king ,lear1 and in ,macbeth1 etc41 by mixing with them the buffooneries of a madman4 ,i was revolted by his insensibility1 which allowed him to pause sometimes at places where my sensibility would bid me hasten and bear me along1 and which sometimes carried him away with indifference when my heart would be so happy to pause4 ,though ,i was accustomed1 by the practice of modern poets1 to seek at once the poet in his works1 to meet his heart1 to reflect with him in his theme--in a word1 to see the object in the subject--,i could not bear that the poet could in ,shakespeare never be seized1 that he would never give me an account of himself4 ,for some years ,shakespeare had been the object of my study and of all my respect before ,i had learned to love his personality4 ,i was not yet able to comprehend nature at first hand4 ,all that my eyes could bear was its image only1 reflected by the understanding and arranged by rules3 and on this score the sentimental poetry of the ,french1 or that of the ,germans of #agej to #aghj1 was what suited me best4 ,for the rest1 ,i do not blush at this childish judgment3 adult critics pronounced in that day in the same way1 and carried their simplicity so far as to publish their decisions to the world4 ,the same thing happened to me in the case of ,homer1 with whom ,i made acquaintance at a later date4 ,i remember now that remarkable passage of the sixth book of the ,iliad1 where ,glaucus and ,diomed meet each other in the strife1 and then1 recognizing each other as host and guest1 exchange presents4 ,with this touching picture of the piety with which the laws of hospitality were observed even in war1 may be compared a picture of chivalrous generosity in ,ariosto4 ,the knights1 rivals in love1 ,ferragus and ,rinaldo--the former a ,saracen1 the latter a ,christian --after having fought to extremity1 all covered with wounds1 make peace together1 and mount the same horse to go and seek the fugitive ,angelica4 ,these two examples1 however different in other respects1 are very similar with regard to the impression produced on our heart3 both represent the noble victory of moral feeling over passion1 and touch us by the simplicity of feeling displayed in them4 ,but what a difference in the way in which the two poets go to work to describe two such analogous scenes6 ,ariosto1 who belongs to an advanced epoch1 to a world where simplicity of manners no longer existed1 in relating this trait1 cannot conceal the astonishment1 the admiration1 he feels at it4 ,he measures the distance from those manners to the manners of his own age1 and this feeling of astonishment is too strong for him4 ,he abandons suddenly the painting of the object1 and comes himself on the scene in person4 ,this beautiful stanza is well known1 and has been always specially admired at all times3-- ,oh nobleness1 oh generosity of the ancient manners of chivalry6 ,these were rivals1 separated by their faith1 suffering bitter pain throughout their frames in consequence of a desperate combat2 and1 without any suspicion1 behold them riding in company along dark and winding paths4 ,stimulated by four spurs1 the horse hastens his pace till they arrive at the place where the road divides4 ,orlando ,furioso1 canto i41 stanza #cb4 ,now let us turn to old ,homer4 ,scarcely has ,diomed learned by the story of ,glaucus1 his adversary1 that the latter has been1 from the time of their fathers1 the host and friend of his family1 when he drives his lance into the ground1 converses familiarly with him1 and both agree henceforth to avoid each other in the strife4 ,but let us hear ,homer himself3-- ',thus1 then1 ,i am for thee a faithful host in ,argos1 and thou to me in ,lycia1 when ,i shall visit that country4 ,we shall1 therefore1 avoid our lances meeting in the strife4 ,are there not for me other ,trojans or brave allies to kill when a god shall offer them to me and my steps shall reach them8 ,and for thee1 ,glaucus1 are there not enough ,achaeans1 that thou mayest immolate whom thou wishest8 ,but let us exchange our arms1 in order that others may also see that we boast of having been hosts and guests at the time of our fathers4' ,thus they spoke1 and1 rushing from their chariots1 they seized each other's hands1 and swore friendship the one to the other4 ,pope's ,iliad1 vi4 #bfd-bhg4 ,it would have been difficult for a modern poet 7at least to one who would be modern in the moral sense of the term7 even to wait as long as this before expressing his joy in the presence of such an action4 ,we should pardon this in him the more easily1 because we also1 in reading it1 feel that our heart makes a pause here1 and readily turns aside from the object to bring back its thoughts on itself4 ,but there is not the least trace of this in ,homer4 ,as if he had been relating something that is seen everyday--nay1 more1 as if he had no heart beating in his breast--he continues1 with his dry truthfulness3-- ,then the son of ,saturn blinded ,glaucus1 who1 exchanging his armor with ,diomed1 gave him golden arms of the value of one hecatomb1 for brass arms only worth nine beeves4 ,iliad1 vi4 #bcd-bcf4 ,the poets of this order1--the genuinely simple poets1 are scarcely any longer in their place in this artificial age4 ,accordingly they are scarcely possible in it1 or at least they are only possible on the condition of traversing their age1 like scared persons1 at a running pace1 and of being preserved by a happy star from the influence of their age1 which would mutilate their genius4 ,never1 for ay and forever1 will society produce these poets2 but out of society they still appear sometimes at intervals1 rather1 ,i admit1 as strangers1 who excite wonder1 or as ill-trained children of nature1 who give offence4 ,these apparitions1 so very comforting for the artist who studies them1 and for the real connoisseur1 who knows how to appreciate them1 are1 as a general conclusion1 in the age when they are begotten1 to a very small degree preposterous4 ,the seal of empire is stamped on their brow1 and we1--we ask the ,muses to cradle us1 to carry us in their arms4 ,the critics1 as regular constables of art1 detest these poets as disturbers of rules or of limits4 ,homer himself may have been only indebted to the testimony of ten centuries for the reward these aristarchs are kindly willing to concede him4 ,moreover1 they find it a hard matter to maintain their rules against his example1 or his authority against their rules4 ,,sentimental ,,poetry4 ,i have previously remarked that the poet is nature1 or he seeks nature4 ,in the former case1 he is a simple poet1 in the second case1 a sentimental poet4 ,the poetic spirit is immortal1 nor can it disappear from humanity2 it can only disappear with humanity itself1 or with the aptitude to be a man1 a human being4 ,and actually1 though man by the freedom of his imagination and of his understanding departs from simplicity1 from truth1 from the necessity of nature1 not only a road always remains open to him to return to it1 but1 moreover1 a powerful and indestructible instinct1 the moral instinct1 brings him incessantly back to nature2 and it is precisely the poetical faculty that is united to this instinct by the ties of the closest relationship4 ,thus man does not lose the poetic faculty directly he parts with the simplicity of nature2 only this faculty acts out of him in another direction4 ,even at present nature is the only flame that kindles and warms the poetic soul4 ,from nature alone it obtains all its force2 to nature alone it speaks in the artificial culture-seeking man4 ,any other form of displaying its activity is remote from the poetic spirit4 ,accordingly it may be remarked that it is incorrect to apply the expression poetic to any of the so-styled productions of wit1 though the high credit given to ,french literature has led people for a long period to class them in that category4 ,i repeat that at present1 even in the existing phase of culture1 it is still nature that powerfully stirs up the poetic spirit1 only its present relation to nature is of a different order from formerly4 ,as long as man dwells in a state of pure nature 7,i mean pure and not coarse nature71 all his being acts at once like a simple sensuous unity1 like a harmonious whole4 ,the senses and reason1 the receptive faculty and the spontaneously active faculty1 have not been as yet separated in their respective functions3 a fortiori they are not yet in contradiction with each other4 ,then the feelings of man are not the formless play of chance2 nor are his thoughts an empty play of the imagination1 without any value4 ,his feelings proceed from the law of necessity2 his thoughts from reality4 ,but when man enters the state of civilization1 and art has fashioned him1 this sensuous harmony which was in him disappears1 and henceforth he can only manifest himself as a moral unity1 that is1 as aspiring to unity4 ,the harmony that existed as a fact in the former state1 the harmony of feeling and thought1 only exists now in an ideal state4 ,it is no longer in him1 but out of him2 it is a conception of thought which he must begin by realizing in himself2 it is no longer a fact1 a reality of his life4 ,well1 now let us take the idea of poetry1 which is nothing else than expressing humanity as completely as possible1 and let us apply this idea to these two states4 ,we shall be brought to infer that1 on the one hand1 in the state of natural simplicity1 when all the faculties of man are exerted together1 his being still manifests itself in a harmonious unity1 where1 consequently1 the totality of his nature expresses itself in reality itself1 the part of the poet is necessarily to imitate the real as completely as is possible4 ,in the state of civilization1 on the contrary1 when this harmonious competition of the whole of human nature is no longer anything but an idea1 the part of the poet is necessarily to raise reality to the ideal1 or1 what amounts to the same thing1 to represent the ideal4 ,and1 actually1 these are the only two ways in which1 in general1 the poetic genius can manifest itself4 ,their great difference is quite evident1 but though there be great opposition between them1 a higher idea exists that embraces both1 and there is no cause to be astonished if this idea coincides with the very idea of humanity4 ,this is not the place to pursue this thought any further1 as it would require a separate discussion to place it in its full light4 ,but if we only compare the modern and ancient poets together1 not according to the accidental forms which they may have employed1 but according to their spirit1 we shall be easily convinced of the truth of this thought4 ,the thing that touches us in the ancient poets is nature2 it is the truth of sense1 it is a present and a living reality modern poets touch us through the medium of ideas4 ,the path followed by modern poets is moreover that necessarily followed by man generally1 individuals as well as the species4 ,nature reconciles man with himself2 art divides and disunites him2 the ideal brings him back to unity4 ,now1 the ideal being an infinite that he never succeeds in reaching1 it follows that civilized man can never become perfect in his kind1 while the man of nature can become so in his4 ,accordingly in relation to perfection one would be infinitely below the other1 if we only considered the relation in which they are both to their own kind and to their maximum4 ,if1 on the other hand1 it is the kinds that are compared together1 it is ascertained that the end to which man tends by civilization is infinitely superior to that which he reaches through nature4 ,thus one has his reward1 because having for object a finite magnitude1 he completely reaches this object2 the merit of the other is to approach an object that is of infinite magnitude4 ,now1 as there are only degrees1 and as there is only progress in the second of these evolutions1 it follows that the relative merit of the man engaged in the ways of civilization is never determinable in general1 though this man1 taking the individuals separately1 is necessarily at a disadvantage1 compared with the man in whom nature acts in all its perfection4 ,but we know also that humanity cannot reach its final end except by progress1 and that the man of nature cannot make progress save through culture1 and consequently by passing himself through the way of civilization4 ,accordingly there is no occasion to ask with which of the two the advantage must remain1 considering this last end4 ,all that we say here of the different forms of humanity may be applied equally to the two orders of poets who correspond to them4 ,accordingly it would have been desirable not to compare at all the ancient and the modern poets1 the simple and the sentimental poets1 or only to compare them by referring them to a higher idea 7since there is really only one7 which embraces both4 ,for1 sooth to say1 if we begin by forming a specific idea of poetry1 merely from the ancient poets1 nothing is easier1 but also nothing is more vulgar1 than to depreciate the moderns by this comparison4 ,if persons wish to confine the name of poetry to that which has in all times produced the same impression in simple nature1 this places them in the necessity of contesting the title of poet in the moderns precisely in that which constitutes their highest beauties1 their greatest originality and sublimity2 for precisely in the points where they excel the most1 it is the child of civilization whom they address1 and they have nothing to say to the simple child of nature4 ,to the man who is not disposed beforehand to issue from reality in order to enter the field of the ideal1 the richest and most substantial poetry is an empty appearance1 and the sublimest flights of poetic inspiration are an exaggeration4 ,never will a reasonable man think of placing alongside ,homer1 in his grandest episodes1 any of our modern poets2 and it has a discordant and ridiculous effect to hear ,milton or ,klopstock honored with the name of a new ,homer4 ,but take in modern poets what characterizes them1 what makes their special merit1 and try to compare any ancient poet with them in this point1 they will not be able to support the comparison any better1 and ,homer less than any other4 ,i should express it thus3 the power of the ancients consists in compressing objects into the finite1 and the moderns excel in the art of the infinite4 ,what we have said here may be extended to the fine arts in general1 except certain restrictions that are self-evident4 ,if1 then1 the strength of the artists of antiquity consists in determining and limiting objects1 we must no longer wonder that in the field of the plastic arts the ancients remain so far superior to the moderns1 nor especially that poetry and the plastic arts with the moderns1 compared respectively with what they were among the ancients1 do not offer the same relative value4 ,this is because an object that addresses itself to the eyes is only perfect in proportion as the object is clearly limited in it2 whilst a work that is addressed to the imagination can also reach the perfection which is proper to it by means of the ideal and the infinite4 ,this is why the superiority of the moderns in what relates to ideas is not of great aid to them in the plastic arts1 where it is necessary for them to determine in space1 with the greatest precision1 the image which their imagination has conceived1 and where they must therefore measure themselves with the ancient artist just on a point where his superiority cannot be contested4 ,in the matter of poetry it is another affair1 and if the advantage is still with the ancients on that ground1 as respects the simplicity of forms--all that can be represented by sensuous features1 all that is something bodily--yet1 on the other hand1 the moderns have the advantage over the ancients as regards fundamental wealth1 and all that can neither be represented nor translated by sensuous signs1 in short1 for all that is called mind and idea in the works of art4 ,from the moment that the simple poet is content to follow simple nature and feeling1 that he is contented with the imitation of the real world1 he can only be placed1 with regard to his subject1 in a single relation4 ,and in this respect he has no choice as to the manner of treating it4 ,if simple poetry produces different impressions--,i do not1 of course1 speak of the impressions that are connected with the nature of the subject1 but only of those that are dependent on poetic execution--the whole difference is in the degree2 there is only one way of feeling1 which varies from more to less2 even the diversity of external forms changes nothing in the quality of aesthetic impressions4 ,whether the form be lyric or epic1 dramatic or descriptive1 we can receive an impression either stronger or weaker1 but if we remove what is connected with the nature of the subject1 we shall always be affected in the same way4 ,the feeling we experience is absolutely identical2 it proceeds entirely from one single and the same element to such a degree that we are unable to make any distinction4 ,the very difference of tongues and that of times does not here occasion any diversity1 for their strict unity of origin and of effect is precisely a characteristic of simple poetry4 ,it is quite different with sentimental poetry4 ,the sentimental poet reflects on the impression produced on him by objects2 and it is only on this reflection that his poetic force is based4 ,it follows that the sentimental poet is always concerned with two opposite forces1 has two modes of representing objects to himself1 and of feeling them2 these are1 the real or limited1 and the ideal or infinite2 and the mixed feeling that he will awaken will always testify to this duality of origin4 ,sentimental poetry thus admitting more than one principle1 it remains to know which of the two will be predominant in the poet1 both in his fashion of feeling and in that of representing the object2 and consequently a difference in the mode of treating it is possible4 ,here1 then1 a new subject is presented3 shall the poet attach himself to the real or the ideal8 to the real as an object of aversion and of disgust1 or to the ideal as an object of inclination8 ,the poet will therefore be able to treat the same subject either in its satirical aspect or in its elegiac aspect1--taking these words in a larger sense1 which will be explained in the sequel3 every sentimental poet will of necessity become attached to one or the other of these two modes of feeling4 ,,satirical ,,poetry4 ,the poet is a satirist when he takes as subject the distance at which things are from nature1 and the contrast between reality and the ideal3 as regards the impression received by the soul1 these two subjects blend into the same4 ,in the execution1 he may place earnestness and passion1 or jests and levity1 according as he takes pleasure in the domain of the will or in that of the understanding4 ,in the former case it is avenging and pathetic satire2 in the second case it is sportive1 humorous1 and mirthful satire4 ,properly speaking1 the object of poetry is not compatible either with the tone of punishment or that of amusement4 ,the former is too grave for play1 which should be the main feature of poetry2 the latter is too trifling for seriousness1 which should form the basis of all poetic play4 ,our mind is necessarily interested in moral contradictions1 and these deprive the mind of its liberty4 ,nevertheless1 all personal interest1 and reference to a personal necessity1 should be banished from poetic feeling4 ,but mental contradictions do not touch the heart1 nevertheless the poet deals with the highest interests of the heart--nature and the ideal4 ,accordingly it is a hard matter for him not to violate the poetic form in pathetic satire1 because this form consists in the liberty of movement2 and in sportive satire he is very apt to miss the true spirit of poetry1 which ought to be the infinite4 ,the problem can only be solved in one way3 by the pathetic satire assuming the character of the sublime1 and the playful satire acquiring poetic substance by enveloping the theme in beauty4 ,in satire1 the real as imperfection is opposed to the ideal1 considered as the highest reality4 ,in other respects it is by no means essential that the ideal should be expressly represented1 provided the poet knows how to awaken it in our souls1 but he must in all cases awaken it1 otherwise he will exert absolutely no poetic action4 ,thus reality is here a necessary object of aversion2 but it is also necessary1 for the whole question centres here1 that this aversion should come necessarily from the ideal1 which is opposed to reality4 ,to make this clear--this aversion might proceed from a purely sensuous source1 and repose only on a want of which the satisfaction finds obstacles in the real4 ,how often1 in fact1 we think we feel1 against society a moral discontent1 while we are simply soured by the obstacles that it opposes to our inclination4 ,it is this entirely material interest that the vulgar satirist brings into play2 and as by this road he never fails to call forth in us movements connected with the affections1 he fancies that he holds our heart in his hand1 and thinks he has graduated in the pathetic4 ,but all pathos derived from this source is unworthy of poetry1 which ought only to move us through the medium of ideas1 and reach our heart only by passing through the reason4 ,moreover1 this impure and material pathos will never have its effect on minds1 except by over-exciting the affective faculties and by occupying our hearts with painful feelings2 in this it differs entirely from the truly poetic pathos1 which raises in us the feeling of moral independence1 and which is recognized by the freedom of our mind persisting in it even while it is in the state of affection4 ,and1 in fact1 when the emotion emanates from the ideal opposed to the real1 the sublime beauty of the ideal corrects all impression of restraint2 and the grandeur of the idea with which we are imbued raises us above all the limits of experience4 ,thus in the representation of some revolting reality1 the essential thing is that the necessary be the foundation on which the poet or the narrator places the real3 that he know how to dispose our mind for ideas4 ,provided the point from which we see and judge be elevated1 it matters little if the object be low and far beneath us4 ,when the historian ,tacitus depicts the profound decadence of the ,romans of the first century1 it is a great soul which from a loftier position lets his looks drop down on a low object2 and the disposition in which he places us is truly poetic1 because it is the height where he is himself placed1 and where he has succeeded in raising us1 which alone renders so perceptible the baseness of the object4 ,accordingly the satire of pathos must always issue from a mind deeply imbued with the ideal4 ,it is nothing but an impulsion towards harmony that can give rise to that deep feeling of moral opposition and that ardent indignation against moral obliquity which amounted to the fulness of enthusiasm in ,juvenal1 ,swift1 ,rousseau1 ,haller1 and others4 ,these same poets would have succeeded equally well in forms of poetry relating to all that is tender and touching in feeling1 and it was only the accidents of life in their early days that diverted their minds into other walks4 ,nay1 some amongst them actually tried their hand successfully in these other branches of poetry4 ,the poets whose names have been just mentioned lived either at a period of degeneracy1 and had scenes of painful moral obliquity presented to their view1 or personal troubles had combined to fill their souls with bitter feelings4 ,the strictly austere spirit in which ,rousseau1 ,haller1 and others paint reality is a natural result1 moreover1 of the philosophical mind1 when with rigid adherence to laws of thought it separates the mere phenomenon from the substance of things4 ,yet these outer and contingent influences1 which always put restraint on the mind1 should never be allowed to do more than decide the direction taken by enthusiasm1 nor should they ever give the material for it4 ,the substance ought always to remain unchanged1 emancipated from all external motion or stimulus1 and it ought to issue from an ardent impulsion towards the ideal1 which forms the only true motive that can be put forth for satirical poetry1 and indeed for all sentimental poetry4 ,while the satire of pathos is only adapted to elevated minds1 playful satire can only be adequately represented by a heart imbued with beauty4 ,the former is preserved from triviality by the serious nature of the theme2 but the latter1 whose proper sphere is confined to the treatment of subjects of morally unimportant nature1 would infallibly adopt the form of frivolity1 and be deprived of all poetic dignity1 were it not that the substance is ennobled by the form1 and did not the personal dignity of the poet compensate for the insignificance of the subject4 ,now1 it is only given to mind imbued with beauty to impress its character1 its entire image1 on each of its manifestations1 independently of the object of its manifestations4 ,a sublime soul can only make itself known as such by single victories over the rebellion of the senses1 only in certain moments of exaltation1 and by efforts of short duration4 ,in a mind imbued with beauty1 on the contrary1 the ideal acts in the same manner as nature1 and therefore continuously2 accordingly it can manifest itself in it in a state of repose4 ,the deep sea never appears more sublime than when it is agitated2 the true beauty of a clear stream is in its peaceful course4 ,the question has often been raised as to the comparative preference to be awarded to tragedy or comedy4 ,if the question is confined merely to their respective themes1 it is certain that tragedy has the advantage4 ,but if our inquiry be directed to ascertain which has the more important personality1 it is probable that a decision may be given in favor of comedy4 ,in tragedy the theme in itself does great things2 in comedy the object does nothing and the poet all4 ,now1 as in the judgments of taste no account must be kept of the matter treated of1 it follows naturally that the aesthetic value of these two kinds will be in an inverse ratio to the proper importance of their themes4 ,the tragic poet is supported by the theme1 while the comic poet1 on the contrary1 has to keep up the aesthetic character of his theme by his own individual influence4 ,the former may soar1 which is not a very difficult matter1 but the latter has to remain one and the same in tone2 he has to be in the elevated region of art1 where he must be at home1 but where the tragic poet has to be projected and elevated by a bound4 ,and this is precisely what distinguishes a soul of beauty from a sublime soul4 ,a soul of beauty bears in itself by anticipation all great ideas2 they flow without constraint and without difficulty from its very nature--an infinite nature1 at least in potency1 at whatever point of its career you seize it4 ,a sublime soul can rise to all kinds of greatness1 but by an effort2 it can tear itself from all bondage1 to all that limits and constrains it1 but only by strength of will4 ,consequently the sublime soul is only free by broken efforts2 the other with ease and always4 ,the noble task of comedy is to produce and keep up in us this freedom of mind1 just as the end of tragedy is to re-establish in us this freedom of mind by aesthetic ways1 when it has been violently suspended by passion4 ,consequently it is necessary that in tragedy the poet1 as if he made an experiment1 should artificially suspend our freedom of mind1 since tragedy shows its poetic virtue by re-establishing it2 in comedy1 on the other hand1 care must be taken that things never reach this suspension of freedom4 ,it is for this reason that the tragic poet invariably treats his theme in a practical manner1 and the comic poet in a theoretic manner1 even when the former1 as happened with ,lessing in his ,nathan1 should have the curious fancy to select a theoretical1 and the latter should have that of choosing a practical subject4 ,a piece is constituted a tragedy or a comedy not by the sphere from which the theme is taken1 but by the tribunal before which it is judged4 ,a tragic poet ought never to indulge in tranquil reasoning1 and ought always to gain the interest of the heart2 but the comic poet ought to shun the pathetic and bring into play the understanding4 ,the former displays his art by creating continual excitement1 the latter by perpetually subduing his passion2 and it is natural that the art in both cases should acquire magnitude and strength in proportion as the theme of one poet is abstract and that of the other pathetic in character4 ,accordingly1 if tragedy sets out from a more exalted place1 it must be allowed1 on the other hand1 that comedy aims at a more important end2 and if this end could be actually attained it would make all tragedy not only unnecessary1 but impossible4 ,the aim that comedy has in view is the same as that of the highest destiny of man1 and this consists in liberating himself from the influence of violent passions1 and taking a calm and lucid survey of all that surrounds him1 and also of his own being1 and of seeing everywhere occurrence rather than fate or hazard1 and ultimately rather smiling at the absurdities than shedding tears and feeling anger at sight of the wickedness of man4 ,it frequently happens in human life that facility of imagination1 agreeable talents1 a good-natured mirthfulness are taken for ornaments of the mind4 ,the same fact is discerned in the case of poetical displays4 ,now1 public taste scarcely if ever soars above the sphere of the agreeable1 and authors gifted with this sort of elegance of mind and style do not find it a difficult matter to usurp a glory which is or ought to be the reward of so much real labor4 ,nevertheless1 an infallible text exists to enable us to discriminate a natural facility of manner from ideal gentleness1 and qualities that consist in nothing more than natural virtue from genuine moral worth of character4 ,this test is presented by trials such as those presented by difficulty and events offering great opportunities4 ,placed in positions of this kind1 the genius whose essence is elegance is sure infallibly to fall into platitudes1 and that virtue which only results from natural causes drops down to a material sphere4 ,but a mind imbued with true and spiritual beauty is in cases of the kind we have supposed sure to be elevated to the highest sphere of character and of feeling4 ,so long as ,lucian merely furnishes absurdity1 as in his ,wishes1 in the ,lapithae1 in ,jupiter ,tragoedus1 etc41 he is only a humorist1 and gratifies us by his sportive humor2 but he changes character in many passages in his ,nigrinus1 his ,timon1 and his ,alexander1 when his satire directs its shafts against moral depravity4 ,thus he begins in his ,nigrinus his picture of the degraded corruption of ,rome at that time in this way3 ,wretch1 why didst thou quit ,greece1 the sunlight1 and that free and happy life8 ,why didst thou come here into this turmoil of splendid slavery1 of service and festivals1 of sycophants1 flatterers1 poisoners1 orphan-robbers1 and false friends8 ,it is on such occasions that the poet ought to show the lofty earnestness of soul which has to form the basis of all plays1 if a poetical character is to be obtained by them4 ,a serious intention may even be detected under the malicious jests with which ,lucian and ,aristophanes pursue ,socrates4 ,their purpose is to avenge truth against sophistry1 and to do combat for an ideal which is not always prominently put forward4 ,there can be no doubt that ,lucian has justified this character in his ,diogenes and ,demonax4 ,again1 among modern writers1 how grave and beautiful is the character depicted on all occasions by ,cervantes in his ,don ,quixote6 ,how splendid must have been the ideal that filled the mind of a poet who created a ,tom ,jones and a ,sophonisba6 ,how deeply and strongly our hearts are moved by the jests of ,yorick when he pleases6 ,i detect this seriousness also in our own ,wieland3 even the wanton sportiveness of his humor is elevated and impeded by the goodness of his heart2 it has an influence even on his rhythm2 nor does he ever lack elastic power1 when it is his wish1 to raise us up to the most elevated planes of beauty and of thought4 ,the same judgment cannot be pronounced on the satire of ,voltaire4 ,no doubt1 also1 in his case1 it is the truth and simplicity of nature which here and there makes us experience poetic emotions1 whether he really encounters nature and depicts it in a simple character1 as many times in his ,ingenu2 or whether he seeks it and avenges it as in his ,candide and elsewhere4 ,but when neither one nor the other takes place1 he can doubtless amuse us with his fine wit1 but he assuredly never touches us as a poet4 ,there is always rather too little of the serious under his raillery1 and this is what makes his vocation as poet justly suspicious4 ,you always meet his intelligence only2 never his feelings4 ,no ideal can be detected under this light gauze envelope2 scarcely can anything absolutely fixed be found under this perpetual movement4 ,his prodigious diversity of externals and forms1 far from proving anything in favor of the inner fulness of his inspiration1 rather testifies to the contrary2 for he has exhausted all forms without finding a single one on which he has succeeded in impressing his heart4 ,we are almost driven to fear that in the case of his rich talent the poverty of heart alone determined his choice of satire4 ,and how could we otherwise explain the fact that he could pursue so long a road without ever issuing from its narrow rut8 ,whatever may be the variety of matter and of external forms1 we see the inner form return everywhere with its sterile and eternal uniformity1 and in spite of his so productive career1 he never accomplished in himself the circle of humanity1 that circle which we see joyfully traversed throughout by the satirists previously named4 ,,elegiac ,,poetry4 ,when the poet opposes nature to art1 and the ideal to the real1 so that nature and the ideal form the principal object of his pictures1 and that the pleasure we take in them is the dominant impression1 ,i call him an elegiac poet4 ,in this kind1 as well as in satire1 ,i distinguish two classes4 ,either nature and the ideal are objects of sadness1 when one is represented as lost to man and the other as unattained2 or both are objects of joy1 being represented to us as reality4 ,in the first case it is elegy in the narrower sense of the term2 in the second case it is the idyl in its most extended acceptation4 ,indignation in the pathetic and ridicule in mirthful satire are occasioned by an enthusiasm which the ideal has excited2 and thus also sadness should issue from the same source in elegy4 ,it is this1 and this only1 that gives poetic value to elegy1 and any other origin for this description of poetical effusion is entirely beneath the dignity of poetry4 ,the elegiac poet seeks after nature1 but he strives to find her in her beauty1 and not only in her mirth2 in her agreement with conception1 and not merely in her facile disposition towards the requirements and demands of sense4 ,melancholy at the privation of joys1 complaints at the disappearance of the world's golden age1 or at the vanished happiness of youth1 affection1 etc41 can only become the proper themes for elegiac poetry if those conditions implying peace and calm in the sphere of the senses can moreover be portrayed as states of moral harmony4 ,on this account ,i cannot bring myself to regard as poetry the complaints of ,ovid1 which he transmitted from his place of exile by the ,black ,sea2 nor would they appear so to me however touching and however full of passages of the highest poetry they might be4 ,his suffering is too devoid of spirit1 and nobleness4 ,his lamentations display a want of strength and enthusiasm2 though they may not reflect the traces of a vulgar soul1 they display a low and sensuous condition of a noble spirit that has been trampled into the dust by its hard destiny4 ,if1 indeed1 we call to mind that his regrets are directed to ,rome1 in the ,augustan age1 we forgive him the pain he suffers2 but even ,rome in all its splendor1 except it be transfigured by the imagination1 is a limited greatness1 and therefore a subject unworthy of poetry1 which1 raised above every trace of the actual1 ought only to mourn over what is infinite4 ,thus the object of poetic complaint ought never to be an external object1 but only an internal and ideal object2 even when it deplores a real loss1 it must begin by making it an ideal loss4 ,the proper work of the poet consists in bringing back the finite object to the proportions of the infinite4 ,consequently the external matter of elegy1 considered in itself1 is always indifferent1 since poetry can never employ it as it finds it1 and because it is only by what it makes of it that it confers on it a poetic dignity4 ,the elegiac poet seeks nature1 but nature as an idea1 and in a degree of perfection that it has never reached in reality1 although he weeps over this perfection as something that has existed and is now lost4 ,when ,ossian speaks to us of the days that are no more1 and of the heroes that have disappeared1 his imagination has long since transformed these pictures represented to him by his memory into a pure ideal1 and changed these heroes into gods4 ,the different experiences of such or such a life in particular have become extended and confounded in the universal idea of transitoriness1 and the bard1 deeply moved1 pursued by the increase of ruin everywhere present1 takes his flight towards heaven1 to find there in the course of the sun an emblem of what does not pass away4 ,i turn now to the elegiac poets of modern times4 ,rousseau1 whether considered as a poet or a philosopher1 always obeys the same tendency2 to seek nature or to avenge it by art4 ,according to the state of his heart1 whether he prefers to seek nature or to avenge it1 we see him at one time roused by elegiac feelings1 at others showing the tone of the satire of ,juneval2 and again1 as in his ,julia1 delighting in the sphere of the idyl4 ,his compositions have undoubtedly a poetic value1 since their object is ideal2 only he does not know how to treat it in a poetic fashion4 ,no doubt his serious character prevents him from falling into frivolity2 but this seriousness also does not allow him to rise to poetic play4 ,sometimes absorbed by passion1 at others by abstractions1 he seldom if ever reaches aesthetic freedom1 which the poet ought to maintain in spite of his material before his object1 and in which he ought to make the reader share4 ,either he is governed by his sickly sensibility and his impressions become a torture1 or the force of thought chains down his imagination and destroys by its strictness of reasoning all the grace of his pictures4 ,these two faculties1 whose reciprocal influence and intimate union are what properly make the poet1 are found in this writer in an uncommon degree1 and he only lacks one thing--it is that the two qualities should manifest themselves actually united2 it is that the proper activity of thought should show itself mixed more with feeling1 and the sensuous more with thought4 ,accordingly1 even in the ideal which he has made of human nature1 he is too much taken up with the limits of this nature1 and not enough with its capabilities2 he always betrays a want of physical repose rather than want of moral harmony4 ,his passionate sensuousness must be blamed when1 to finish as quickly as possible that struggle in humanity which offends him1 he prefers to carry man back to the unintelligent uniformity of his primitive condition1 rather than see that struggle carried out in the intellectual harmony of perfect cultivation1 when1 rather than await the fulfilment of art he prefers not to let it begin2 in short1 when he prefers to place the aim nearer the earth1 and to lower the ideal in order to reach it the sooner and the safer4 ,among the poets of ,germany who belong to this class1 ,i shall only mention here ,haller1 ,kleist1 and ,klopstock4 ,the character of their poetry is sentimental2 it is by the ideal that they touch us1 not by sensuous reality2 and that not so much because they are themselves nature1 as because they know how to fill us with enthusiasm for nature4 ,however1 what is true in general1 as well of these three poets as of every sentimental poet1 does not evidently exclude the faculty of moving us1 in particular1 by beauties of the simple genus2 without this they would not be poets4 ,i only mean that it is not their proper and dominant characteristic to receive the impression of objects with a calm feeling1 simple1 easy1 and to give forth in like manner the impression received4 ,involuntarily the imagination in them anticipates intuition1 and reflection is in play before the sensuous nature has done its function2 they shut their eyes and stop their ears to plunge into internal meditations4 ,their souls could not be touched by any impression without observing immediately their own movements1 without placing before their eyes and outside themselves what takes place in them4 ,it follows from this that we never see the object itself1 but what the intelligence and reflection of the poet have made of the object2 and even if this object be the person itself of the poet1 even when he wishes to represent to us his own feelings1 we are not informed of his state immediately or at first hand2 we only see how this state is reflected in his mind and what he has thought of it in the capacity of spectator of himself4 ,when ,haller deplores the death of his wife--every one knows this beautiful elegy--and begins in the following manner3-- ,if ,i must needs sing of thy death1 ,o ,marian1 what a song it would be6 ,when sighs strive against words1 ,and idea follows fast on idea1 etc41 we feel that this description is strictly true1 but we feel also that the poet does not communicate to us1 properly speaking1 his feelings1 but the thoughts that they suggest to him4 ,accordingly1 the emotion we feel on hearing him is much less vivid6 people remark that the poet's mind must have been singularly cooled down to become thus a spectator of his own emotion4 ,haller scarcely treated any subjects but the super-sensuous1 and part of the poems of ,klopstock are also of this nature3 this choice itself excludes them from the simple kind4 ,accordingly1 in order to treat these super-sensuous themes in a poetic fashion1 as no body could be given to them1 and they could not be made the objects of sensuous intuition1 it was necessary to make them pass from the finite to the infinite1 and raise them to the state of objects of spiritual intuition4 ,in general1 it may be said1 that it is only in this sense that a didactic poetry can be conceived without involving contradiction2 for1 repeating again what has been so often said1 poetry has only two fields1 the world of sense and the ideal world1 since in the sphere of conceptions1 in the world of the understanding1 it cannot absolutely thrive4 ,i confess that ,i do not know as yet any didactic poem1 either among the ancients or among the moderns1 where the subject is completely brought down to the individual1 or purely and completely raised to the ideal4 ,the most common case1 in the most happy essays1 is where the two principles are used together2 the abstract idea predominates1 and the imagination1 which ought to reign over the whole domain of poetry1 has merely the permission to serve the understanding4 ,a didactic poem in which thought itself would be poetic1 and would remain so1 is a thing which we must still wait to see4 ,what we say here of didactic poems in general is true in particular of the poems of ,haller4 ,the thought itself of these poems is not poetical1 but the execution becomes so sometimes1 occasionally by the use of images1 at other times by a flight towards the ideal4 ,it is from this last quality only that the poems of ,haller belong to this class4 ,energy1 depth1 a pathetic earnestness--these are the traits that distinguish this poet4 ,he has in his soul an ideal that enkindles it1 and his ardent love of truth seeks in the peaceful valleys of the ,alps that innocence of the first ages that the world no longer knows4 ,his complaint is deeply touching2 he retraces in an energetic and almost bitter satire the wanderings of the mind and of the heart1 and he lovingly portrays the beautiful simplicity of nature4 ,only1 in his pictures as well as in his soul1 abstraction prevails too much1 and the sensuous is overweighted by the intellectual4 ,he constantly teaches rather than paints2 and even in his paintings his brush is more energetic than lovable4 ,he is great1 bold1 full of fire1 sublime2 but he rarely and perhaps never attains to beauty4 ,for the solidity and depth of ideas1 ,kleist is far inferior to ,haller2 in point of grace1 perhaps1 he would have the advantage--if1 as happens occasionally1 we did not impute to him as a merit1 on the one side1 that which really is a want on the other4 ,the sensuous soul of ,kleist takes especial delight at the sight of country scenes and manners2 he withdraws gladly from the vain jingle and rattle of society1 and finds in the heart of inanimate nature the harmony and peace that are not offered to him by the moral world4 ,how touching is his ,aspiration after ,repose6 how much truth and feeling there is in these verses6-- ,o world1 thou art the tomb of true life6 ,often a generous instinct attracts me to virtue2 ,my heart is sad1 a torrent of tears bathes my cheeks ,but example conquers1 and thou1 ,o fire of youth6 ,soon you dry these noble tears4 ,a true man must live far from men6 ,but if the poetic instinct of ,kleist leads him thus far away from the narrow circle of social relations1 in solitude1 and among the fruitful inspirations of nature1 the image of social life and of its anguish pursues him1 and also1 alas6 its chains4 ,what he flees from he carries in himself1 and what he seeks remains entirely outside him3 never can he triumph over the fatal influence of his time4 ,in vain does he find sufficient flame in his heart and enough energy in his imagination to animate by painting the cold conceptions of the understanding2 cold thought each time kills the living creations of fancy1 and reflection destroys the secret work of the sensuous nature4 ,his poetry1 it must be admitted1 is of as brilliant color and as variegated as the spring he celebrated in verse2 his imagination is vivid and active2 but it might be said that it is more variable than rich1 that it sports rather than creates1 that it always goes forward with a changeful gait1 rather than stops to accumulate and mould things into shape4 ,traits succeed each other rapidly1 with exuberance1 but without concentrating to form an individual1 without completing each other to make a living whole1 without rounding to a form1 a figure4 ,whilst he remains in purely lyrical poetry1 and pauses amidst his landscapes of country life1 on the one hand the greater freedom of the lyrical form1 and on the other the more arbitrary nature of the subject1 prevent us from being struck with this defect2 in these sorts of works it is in general rather the feelings of the poet1 than the object in itself1 of which we expect the portraiture4 ,but this defect becomes too apparent when he undertakes1 as in ,cisseis and ,paches1 or in his ,seneca1 to represent men and human actions2 because here the imagination sees itself kept in within certain fixed and necessary limits1 and because here the effect can only be derived from the object itself4 ,kleist becomes poor1 tiresome1 jejune1 and insupportably frigid2 an example full of lessons for those who1 without having an inner vocation1 aspire to issue from musical poetry1 to rise to the regions of plastic poetry4 ,a spirit of this family1 ,thomson1 has paid the same penalty to human infirmity4 ,in the sentimental kind1 and especially in that part of the sentimental kind which we name elegiac1 there are but few modern poets1 and still fewer ancient ones1 who can be compared to our ,klopstock4 ,musical poetry has produced in this poet all that can be attained out of the limits of the living form1 and out of the sphere of individuality1 in the region of ideas4 ,it would1 no doubt1 be doing him a great injustice to dispute entirely in his case that individual truth and that feeling of life with which the simple poet describes his pictures4 ,many of his odes1 many separate traits in his dramas1 and in his ,messiah1 represent the object with a striking truth1 and mark the outline admirably2 especially1 when the object is his own heart1 he has given evidence on many occasions of a great natural disposition and of a charming simplicity4 ,i mean only that it is not in this that the proper force of ,klopstock consists1 and that it would not perhaps be right to seek for this throughout his work4 ,viewed as a production of musical poetry1 the ,messiah is a magnificent work2 but in the light of plastic poetry1 where we look for determined forms and forms determined for the intuition1 the ,messiah leaves much to be desired4 ,perhaps in this poem the figures are sufficiently determined1 but they are not so with intuition in view4 ,it is abstraction alone that created them1 and abstraction alone can discern them4 ,they are excellent types to express ideas1 but they are not individuals nor living figures4 ,with regard to the imagination1 which the poet ought to address1 and which he ought to command by putting before it always perfectly determinate forms1 it is left here much too free to represent as it wishes these men and these angels1 these divinities and demons1 this paradise and this hell4 ,we see quite well the vague outlines in which the understanding must be kept to conceive these personages2 but we do not find the limit clearly traced in which the imagination must be enclosed to represent them4 ,and what ,i say here of characters must apply to all that in this poem is1 or ought to be1 action and life1 and not only in this epopoeia1 but also in the dramatic poetry of ,klopstock4 ,for the understanding all is perfectly determined and bounded in them--,i need only here recall his ,judas1 his ,pilate1 his ,philo1 his ,solomon in the tragedy that bears that name--but for the imagination all this wants form too much1 and ,i must readily confess ,i do not find that our poet is at all in his sphere here4 ,his sphere is always the realm of ideas2 and he knows how to raise all he touches to the infinite4 ,it might be said that he strips away their bodily envelope1 to spiritualize them from all the objects with which he is occupied1 in the same way that other poets clothe all that is spiritual with a body4 ,the pleasure occasioned by his poems must almost always be obtained by an exercise of the faculty of reflection2 the feelings he awakens in us1 and that so deeply and energetically1 flow always from super-sensuous sources4 ,hence the earnestness1 the strength1 the elasticity1 the depth1 that characterize all that comes from him2 but from that also issues that perpetual tension of mind in which we are kept when reading him4 ,no poet--except perhaps ,young1 who in this respect exacts even more than ,klopstock1 without giving us so much compensation --no poet could be less adapted than ,klopstock to play the part of favorite author and guide in life1 because he never does anything else than lead us out of life1 because he never calls to arms anything save spirit1 without giving recreation and refreshment to sensuous nature by the calm presence of any object4 ,his muse is chaste1 it has nothing of the earthly1 it is immaterial and holy as his religion2 and we are forced to admit with admiration that if he wanders sometimes on these high places1 it never happened to him to fall from them4 ,but precisely for this reason1 ,i confess in all ingenuousness1 that ,i am not free from anxiety for the common sense of those who quite seriously and unaffectedly make ,klopstock the favorite book1 the book in which we find sentiments fitting all situations1 or to which we may revert at all times3 perhaps even--and ,i suspect it--,germany has seen enough results of his dangerous influence4 ,it is only in certain dispositions of the mind1 and in hours of exaltation1 that recourse can be had to ,klopstock1 and that he can be felt4 ,it is for this reason that he is the idol of youth1 without1 however1 being by any means the happiest choice that they could make4 ,youth1 which always aspires to something beyond real life1 which avoids all stiffness of form1 and finds all limits too narrow1 lets itself be carried away with love1 with delight1 into the infinite spaces opened up to them by this poet4 ,but wait till the youth has become a man1 and till1 from the domain of ideas1 he comes back to the world of experience1 then you will see this enthusiastic love of ,klopstock decrease greatly1 without1 however1 a riper age changing at all the esteem due to this unique phenomenon1 to this so extraordinary genius1 to these noble sentiments--the esteem that ,germany in particular owes to his high merit4 ,i have said that this poet was great specially in the elegiac style1 and it is scarcely necessary to confirm this judgment by entering into particulars4 ,capable of exercising all kinds of action on the heart1 and having graduated as master in all that relates to sentimental poetry1 he can sometimes shake the soul by the most sublime pathos1 at others cradle it with sweet and heavenly sensations4 ,yet his heart prefers to follow the direction of a lofty spiritual melancholy2 and1 however sublime be the tones of his harp and of his lyre1 they are always the tender notes of his lute that resound with most truth and the deepest emotion4 ,i take as witnesses all those whose nature is pure and sensuous3 would they not be ready to give all the passages where ,klopstock is strong1 and bold2 all those fictions1 all the magnificent descriptions1 all the models of eloquence which abound in the ,messiah1 all those dazzling comparisons in which our poet excels1--would they not exchange them for the pages breathing tenderness1 the ,elegy to ,ebert for example1 or that admirable poem entitled ,bardalus1 or again1 the ,tombs ,opened before the ,hour1 the ,summer's ,night1 the ,lake of ,zurich1 and many other pieces of this kind8 ,in the same way the ,messiah is dear to me as a treasure of elegiac feelings and of ideal paintings1 though ,i am not much satisfied with it as the recital of an action and as an epic4 ,i ought1 perhaps1 before quitting this department1 to recall the merits in this style of ,uz1 ,denis1 ,gessner in the ,death of ,abel--,jacobi1 ,gerstenberg1 ,hoelty1 ,de ,goeckingk1 and several others1 who all knew how to touch by ideas1 and whose poems belong to the sentimental kind in the sense in which we have agreed to understand the word4 ,but my object is not here to write a history of ,german poetry2 ,i only wished to clear up what ,i said further back by some examples from our literature4 ,i wished to show that the ancient and the modern poets1 the authors of simple poetry and of sentimental poetry1 follow essentially different paths to arrive at the same end3 that the former move by nature1 individuality1 a very vivid sensuous element2 while the latter do it by means of ideas and a high spirituality1 exercising over our minds an equally powerful though less extensive influence4 ,it has been seen1 by the examples which precede1 how sentimental poetry conceives and treats subjects taken from nature2 perhaps the reader may be curious to know how also simple poetry treats a subject of the sentimental order4 ,this is1 as it seems1 an entirely new question1 and one of special difficulty2 for1 in the first place1 has a subject of the sentimental order ever been presented in primitive and simple periods8 ,and in modern times1 where is the simple poet with whom we could make this experiment8 ,this has not1 however1 prevented genius from setting this problem1 and solving it in a wonderfully happy way4 ,a poet in whose mind nature works with a purer and more faithful activity than in any other1 and who is perhaps of all modern poets the one who departs the least from the sensuous truth of things1 has proposed this problem to himself in his conception of a mind1 and of the dangerous extreme of the sentimental character4 ,this mind and this character have been portrayed by the modern poet we speak of1 a character which with a burning sensuousness embraces the ideal and flies the real1 to soar up to an infinite devoid of being1 always occupied in seeking out of himself what he incessantly destroys in himself2 a mind that only finds reality in his dreams1 and to whom the realities of life are only limits and obstacles2 in short1 a mind that sees only in its own existence a barrier1 and goes on1 as it were1 logically to break down this barrier in order to penetrate to true reality4 ,it is interesting to see with what a happy instinct all that is of a nature to feed the sentimental mind is gathered together in ,werther3 a dreamy and unhappy love1 a very vivid feeling for nature1 the religious sense coupled with the spirit of philosophic contemplation1 and lastly1 to omit nothing1 the world of ,ossian1 dark1 formless1 melancholy4 ,add to this the aspect under which reality is presented1 all is depicted which is least adapted to make it lovable1 or rather all that is most fit to make it hated2 see how all external circumstances unite to drive back the unhappy man into his ideal world2 and now we understand that it was quite impossible for a character thus constituted to save itself1 and issue from the circle in which it was enclosed4 ,the same contrast reappears in the ,torquato ,tasso of the same poet1 though the characters are very different4 ,even his last romance presents1 like his first1 this opposition between the poetic mind and the common sense of practical men1 between the ideal and the real1 between the subjective mode and the objective mode of seeing and representing things2 it is the same opposition1 ,i say1 but with what a diversity6 ,even in ,faust we still find this contrast1 rendered1 ,i admit--as the subject required--much more coarsely on both hands1 and materialized4 ,it would be quite worth while if a psychological explanation were attempted of this character1 personified and specified in four such different ways4 ,it has been observed further back that a mere disposition to frivolity of mind1 to a merry humor1 if a certain fund of the ideal is not joined to it1 does not suffice to constitute the vocation of a satirical poet1 though this mistake is frequently made4 ,in the same way a mere disposition for tender sentiments1 softness of heart1 and melancholy do not suffice to constitute a vocation for elegy4 ,i cannot detect the true poetical talent1 either on one side or the other2 it wants the essential1 ,i mean the energetic and fruitful principle that ought to enliven the subject1 and produce true beauty4 ,accordingly the productions of this latter nature1 of the tender nature1 do nothing but enervate us2 and without refreshing the heart1 without occupying the mind1 they are only able to flatter in us the sensuous nature4 ,a constant disposition to this mode of feeling ends necessarily1 in the long run1 by weakening the character1 and makes it fall into a state of passivity from which nothing real can issue1 either for external or for internal life4 ,people have1 therefore1 been quite right to persecute by pitiless raillery this fatal mania of sentimentality and of tearful melancholy which possessed ,germany eighteen years since1 in consequence of certain excellent works that were ill understood and indiscreetly imitated4 ,people have been right1 ,i say1 to combat this perversity1 though the indulgence with which men are disposed to receive the parodies of these elegiac caricatures--that are very little better themselves--the complaisance shown to bad wit1 to heartless satire and spiritless mirth1 show clearly enough that this zeal against false sentimentalism does not issue from quite a pure source4 ,in the balance of true taste one cannot weigh more than the other1 considering that both here and there is wanting that which forms the aesthetic value of a work of art1 the intimate union of spirit with matter1 and the twofold relation of the work with the faculty of perception as well as with the faculty of the ideal4 ,people have turned ,siegwart ,siegwart1 a novel by ,j4 ,mailer1 published at ,ulm1 #aggf and his convent story into ridicule1 and yet the ,travels into the ,south of ,france are admired2 yet both works have an equal claim to be esteemed in certain respects1 and as little to be unreservedly praised in others4 ,a true1 though excessive1 sensuousness gives value to the former of these two romances2 a lively and sportive humor1 a fine wit1 recommends the other3 but one totally lacks all sobriety of mind that would befit it1 the other lacks all aesthetic dignity4 ,if you consult experience1 one is rather ridiculous2 if you think of the ideal1 the other is almost contemptible4 ,now1 as true beauty must of necessity accord both with nature and with the ideal1 it is clear that neither the one nor the other of these two romances could pretend to pass for a fine work4 ,and notwithstanding all this1 it is natural1 as ,i know it by my own experience1 that the romance of ,thummel should be read with much pleasure4 ,as a fact it only wounds those requirements which have their principle in the ideal1 and which consequently do not exist for the greater part of readers2 requirements that1 even in persons of most delicate feeling1 do not make themselves felt at the moments when we read romances4 ,with regard to the other needs of the mind1 and especially to those of the senses1 this book1 on the other hand1 affords unusual satisfaction4 ,accordingly1 it must be1 and will be so1 that this book will remain justly one of the favorite works of our age1 and of all epochs when men only write aesthetic works to please1 and people only read to get pleasure4 ,but does not poetical literature also offer1 even in its classical monuments1 some analogous examples of injuries inflicted or attempted against the ideal and its superior purity8 ,are there not some who1 by the gross1 sensuous nature of their subject1 seem to depart strangely from the spiritualism ,i here demand of all works of art8 ,if this is permitted to the poet1 the chaste nurseling of the muses1 ought it not to be conceded to the novelist1 who is only the half-brother of the poet1 and who still touches by so many points8 ,i can the less avoid this question because there are masterpieces1 both in the elegiac and in the satirical kind1 where the authors seek and preach up a nature quite different from that ,i am discussing in this essay1 and where they seem to defend it1 not so much against bad as against good morals4 ,the natural conclusion would be either that this sort of poem ought to be rejected1 or that1 in tracing here the idea of elegiac poetry1 we have granted far too much to what is arbitrary4 ,the question ,i asked was1 whether what was permitted by the poet might not be tolerated in a prose narrator too8 ,the answer is contained in the question4 ,what is allowed in the poet proves nothing about what must be allowed in one who is not a poet4 ,this tolerancy in fact reposes on the very idea which we ought to make to ourselves of the poet1 and only on this idea2 what in his case is legitimate freedom1 is only a license worthy of contempt as soon as it no longer takes its source in the ideal1 in those high and noble inspirations which make the poet4 ,the laws of decency are strangers to innocent nature2 the experience of corruption alone has given birth to them4 ,but when once this experience has been made1 and natural innocence has disappeared from manners1 these laws are henceforth sacred laws that man1 who has a moral sense1 ought not to infringe upon4 ,they reign in an artificial world with the same right that the laws of nature reign in the innocence of primitive ages4 ,but by what characteristic is the poet recognized8 ,precisely by his silencing in his soul all that recalls an artificial world1 and by causing nature herself to revive in him with her primitive simplicity4 ,the moment he has done this he is emancipated by this alone from all the laws by which a depraved heart secures itself against itself4 ,he is pure1 he is innocent1 and all that is permitted to innocent nature is equally permitted to him4 ,but you who read him or listen to him1 if you have lost your innocence1 and if you are incapable of finding it again1 even for a moment1 in a purifying contact with the poet1 it is your own fault1 and not his3 why do not you leave him alone8 it is not for you that he has sung6 ,here follows1 therefore1 in what relates to these kinds of freedoms1 the rules that we can lay down4 ,let us remark in the first place that nature only can justify these licenses2 whence it follows that you could not legitimately take them up of your own choice1 nor with a determination of imitating them2 the will1 in fact1 ought always to be directed according to the laws of morality1 and on its part all condescending to the sensuous is absolutely unpardonable4 ,these licenses must1 therefore1 above all1 be simplicity4 ,but how can we be convinced that they are actually simple8 ,we shall hold them to be so if we see them accompanied and supported by all the other circumstances which also have their spring of action in nature2 for nature can only be recognized by the close and strict consistency1 by the unity and uniformity of its effects4 ,it is only a soul that has on all occasions a horror of all kinds of artifice1 and which consequently rejects them even where they would be useful--it is only that soul which we permit to be emancipated from them when the artificial conventionalities hamper and hinder it4 ,a heart that submits to all the obligations of nature has alone the right to profit also by the liberties which it authorizes4 ,all the other feelings of that heart ought consequently to bear the stamp of nature3 it will be true1 simple1 free1 frank1 sensible1 and straightforward2 all disguise1 all cunning1 all arbitrary fancy1 all egotistical pettiness1 will be banished from his character1 and you will see no trace of them in his writings4 ,second rule3 beautiful nature alone can justify freedoms of this kind2 whence it follows that they ought not to be a mere outbreak of the appetites2 for all that proceeds exclusively from the wants of sensuous nature is contemptible4 ,it is1 therefore1 from the totality and the fulness of human nature that these vivid manifestations must also issue4 ,we must find humanity in them4 ,but how can we judge that they proceed in fact from our whole nature1 and not only from an exclusive and vulgar want of the sensuous nature8 ,for this purpose it is necessary that we should see--that they should represent to us--this whole of which they form a particular feature4 ,this disposition of the mind to experience the impressions of the sensuous is in itself an innocent and an indifferent thing4 ,it does not sit well on a man only because of its being common to animals with him2 it augurs in him the lack of true and perfect humanity4 ,it only shocks us in the poem because such a work having the pretension to please us1 the author consequently seems to think us capable1 us also1 of this moral infirmity4 ,but when we see in the man who has let himself be drawn into it by surprise all the other characteristics that human nature in general embraces2 when we find in the work where these liberties have been taken the expression of all the realities of human nature1 this motive of discontent disappears1 and we can enjoy1 without anything changing our joy1 this simple expression of a true and beautiful nature4 ,consequently this same poet who ventures to allow himself to associate us with feelings so basely human1 ought to know1 on the other hand1 how to raise us to all that is grand1 beautiful1 and sublime in our nature4 ,we should1 therefore1 have found there a measure to which we could subject the poet with confidence1 when he trespasses on the ground of decency1 and when he does not fear to penetrate as far as that in order freely to paint nature4 ,his work is common1 base1 absolutely inexcusable1 from the moment it is frigid1 and from the moment it is empty1 because that shows a prejudice1 a vulgar necessity1 an unhealthy appeal to our appetites4 ,his work1 on the other hand1 is beautiful and noble1 and we ought to applaud it without any consideration for all the objections of frigid decency1 as soon as we recognize in it simplicity1 the alliance of spiritual nature and of the heart4 ,perhaps ,i shall be told that if we adopt this criterion1 most of the recitals of this kind composed by the ,french1 and the best imitations made of them in ,germany1 would not perhaps find their interest in it2 and that it might be the same1 at least in part1 with many of the productions of our most intellectual and amiable poets1 without even excepting his masterpieces4 ,i should have nothing to reply to this4 ,the sentence after all is anything but new1 and ,i am only justifying the judgment pronounced long since on this matter by all men of delicate perceptions4 ,but these same principles which1 applied to the works of which ,i have just spoken1 seem perhaps in too strict a spirit1 might also be found too indulgent when applied to some other works4 ,i do not deny1 in fact1 that the same reasons which make me hold to be quite inexcusable the dangerous pictures drawn by the ,roman ,ovid and the ,german ,ovid1 those of ,crebillon1 of ,voltaire1 of ,marmontel1 who pretends to write moral tales6--of ,lacroix1 and of many others--that these same reasons1 ,i say1 reconcile me with the elegies of the ,roman ,propertius and of the ,german ,propertius1 and even with some of the decried productions of ,diderot4 ,this is because the former of those works are only witty1 prosaic1 and voluptuous1 while the others are poetic1 human1 and simple4 ,,idyl4 ,it remains for me to say a few words about this third kind of sentimental poetry--some few words and no more1 for ,i propose to speak of it at another time with the developments particularly demanded by the theme4 ,this kind of poetry generally presents the idea and description of an innocent and happy humanity4 ,this innocence and bliss seeming remote from the artificial refinements of fashionable society1 poets have removed the scene of the idyl from crowds of worldly life to the simple shepherd's cot1 and have given it a place in the infancy of humanity before the beginning of culture4 ,these limitations are evidently accidental2 they do not form the object of the idyl1 but are only to be regarded as the most natural means to attain this end4 ,the end is everywhere to portray man in a state of innocence3 which means a state of harmony and peace with himself and the external world4 ,but a state such as this is not merely met with before the dawn of civilization2 it is also the state to which civilization aspires1 as to its last end1 if only it obeys a determined tendency in its progress4 ,the idea of a similar state1 and the belief of the possible reality of this state1 is the only thing that can reconcile man with all the evils to which he is exposed in the path of civilization2 and if this idea were only a chimera1 the complaints of those who accuse civil life and the culture of the intelligence as an evil for which there is no compensation1 and who represent this primitive state of nature that we have renounced as the real end of humanity--their complaints1 ,i say1 would have a perfectly just foundation4 ,it is1 therefore1 of infinite importance for the man engaged in the path of civilization to see confirmed in a sensuous manner the belief that this idea can be accomplished in the world of sense1 that this state of innocence can be realized in it2 and as real experience1 far from keeping up this belief1 is rather made incessantly to contradict it1 poetry comes here1 as in many other cases1 in aid of reason1 to cause this idea to pass into the condition of an intuitive idea1 and to realize it in a particular fact4 ,no doubt this innocence of pastoral life is also a poetic idea1 and the imagination must already have shown its creative power in that4 ,but the problem1 with this datum1 becomes infinitely simpler and easier to solve2 and we must not forget that the elements of these pictures already existed in real life1 and that it was only requisite to gather up the separate traits to form a whole4 ,under a fine sky1 in a primitive society1 when all the relations are still simple1 when science is limited to so little1 nature is easily satisfied1 and man only turns to savagery when he is tortured by want4 ,all nations that have a history have a paradise1 an age of innocence1 a golden age4 ,nay1 more than this1 every man has his paradise1 his golden age1 which he remembers with more or less enthusiasm1 according as he is more or less poetical4 ,thus experience itself furnishes sufficient traits to this picture which the pastoral idyl executes4 ,but this does not prevent the pastoral idyl from remaining always a beautiful and an encouraging fiction2 and poetic genius1 in retracing these pictures1 has really worked in favor of the ideal4 ,for1 to the man who has once departed from simple nature1 and who has been abandoned to the dangerous guidance of his reason1 it is of the greatest importance to find the laws of nature expressed in a faithful copy1 to see their image in a clear mirror1 and to reject all the stains of artificial life4 ,there is1 however1 a circumstance which remarkably lessens the aesthetic value of these sorts of poetry4 ,by the very fact that the idyl is transported to the time that precedes civilization1 it also loses the advantages thereof2 and by its nature finds itself in opposition to itself4 ,thus1 in a theoretical sense1 it takes us back at the same time that in a practical sense it leads us on and ennobles us4 ,unhappily it places behind us the end towards which it ought to lead us1 and consequently it can only inspire us with the sad feeling of a loss1 and not the joyous feeling of a hope4 ,as these poems can only attain their end by dispensing with all art1 and by simplifying human nature1 they have the highest value for the heart1 but they are also far too poor for what concerns the mind1 and their uniform circle is too quickly traversed4 ,accordingly we can only seek them and love them in moments in which we need calm1 and not when our faculties aspire after movement and exercise4 ,a morbid mind will find its cure in them1 a sound soul will not find its food in them4 ,they cannot vivify1 they can only soften4 ,this defect1 grounded in the essence of the pastoral idyll1 has not been remedied by the whole art of poets4 ,i know that this kind of poem is not without admirers1 and that there are readers enough who prefer an ,amyntus and a ,daphnis to the most splendid masterpieces of the epic or the dramatic muse2 but in them it is less the aesthetical taste than the feeling of an individual want that pronounces on works of art2 and their judgment1 by that very fact1 could not be taken into consideration here4 ,the reader who judges with his mind1 and whose heart is sensuous1 without being blind to the merit of these poems1 will confess that he is rarely affected by them1 and that they tire him most quickly4 ,but they act with so much the more effect in the exact moment of need4 ,but must the truly beautiful be reduced to await our hours of need8 and is it not rather its office to awaken in our soul the want that it is going to satisfy8 ,the reproaches ,i here level against the bucolic idyl cannot be understood of the sentimental4 ,the simple pastoral1 in fact1 cannot be deprived of aesthetic value1 since this value is already found in the mere form4 ,to explain myself3 every kind of poetry is bound to possess an infinite ideal value1 which alone constitutes it a true poetry2 but it can satisfy this condition in two different ways4 ,it can give us the feeling of the infinite as to form1 by representing the object altogether limited and individualizing it2 it can awaken in us the feeling of the infinite as to matter1 in freeing its object from all limits in which it is enclosed1 by idealizing this object2 therefore it can have an ideal value either by an absolute representation or by the representation of an absolute4 ,simple poetry takes the former road1 the other is that of sentimental poetry4 ,accordingly the simple poet is not exposed to failure in value so long as he keeps faithfully to nature1 which is always completely circumscribed1 that is1 is infinite as regards form4 ,the sentimental poet1 on the contrary1 by that very fact1 that nature only offers him completely circumscribed objects1 finds in it an obstruction when he wishes to give an absolute value to a particular object4 ,thus the sentimental poet understands his interests badly when he goes along the trail of the simple poet1 and borrows his objects from him--objects which by themselves are perfectly indifferent1 and which only become poetical by the way in which they are treated4 ,by this he imposes on himself without any necessity the same limits that confine the field of the simple poet1 without1 however1 being able to carry out the limitation properly1 or to vie with his rival in absolute definiteness of representation4 ,he ought rather1 therefore1 to depart from the simple poet1 just in the choice of object2 because1 the latter having the advantage of him on the score of form1 it is only by the nature of the objects that he can resume the upper hand4 ,applying this to the pastoral idyls of the sentimental poet1 we see why these poems1 whatever amount of art and genius be displayed in them1 do not fully satisfy the heart or the mind4 ,an ideal is proposed in it1 and1 at the same time1 the writer keeps to this narrow and poor medium of pastoral life4 ,would it not have been better1 on the contrary1 to choose for the ideal another frame1 or for the pastoral world another kind of picture8 ,these pictures are just ideal enough for painting to lose its individual truth in them1 and1 again1 just individual enough for the ideal in them to suffer therefrom4 ,for example1 a shepherd of ,gessner can neither charm by the illusion of nature nor by the beauty of imitation2 he is too ideal a being for that1 but he does not satisfy us any more as an ideal by the infinity of the thought3 he is a far too limited creature to give us this satisfaction4 ,he will1 therefore1 please up to a certain point all classes of readers1 without exception1 because he seeks to unite the simple with the sentimental1 and he thus gives a commencement of satisfaction to the two opposite exigencies that may be brought to bear on any particular part of a poem2 but the author1 in trying to unite the two points1 does not fully satisfy either one or the other exigency1 as you do not find in him either pure nature or the pure ideal2 he cannot rank himself as entirely up to the mark of a stringent critical taste1 for taste does not accept anything equivocal or incomplete in aesthetical matters4 ,it is a strange thing that1 in the poet whom ,i have named1 this equivocal character extends to the language1 which floats undecided between poetry and prose1 as if he feared either to depart too far from nature1 by speaking rhythmical language1 or if he completely freed himself from rhythm1 to lose all poetic flight4 ,milton gives a higher satisfaction to the mind1 in the magnificent picture of the first human pair1 and of the state of innocence in paradise2--the most beautiful idyl ,i know of the sentimental kind4 ,here nature is noble1 inspired1 simple1 full of breadth1 and1 at the same time1 of depth2 it is humanity in its highest moral value1 clothed in the most graceful form4 ,thus1 even in respect to the idyl1 as well as to all kinds of poetry1 we must once for all declare either for individuality or ideality2 for to aspire to give satisfaction to both exigencies is the surest means1 unless you have reached the terminus of perfection1 to miss both ends4 ,if the modern poet thinks he feels enough of the ,greeks' mind to vie with them1 notwithstanding all the indocility of his matter1 on their own ground1 namely that of simple poetry1 let him do it exclusively1 and place himself apart from all the requirements of the sentimental taste of his age4 ,no doubt it is very doubtful if he come up to his models2 between the original and the happiest imitation there will always remain a notable distance2 but1 by taking this road1 he is at all events secure of producing a really poetic work4 ,if1 on the other hand1 he feels himself carried to the ideal by the instinct of sentimental poetry1 let him decide to pursue this end fully2 let him seek the ideal in its purity1 and let him not pause till he has reached the highest regions without looking behind him to know if the real follows him1 and does not leave him by the way4 ,let him not lower himself to this wretched expedient of spoiling the ideal to accommodate himself to the wants of human weakness1 and to turn out mind in order to play more easily with the heart4 ,let him not take us back to our infancy1 to make us buy1 at the cost of the most precious acquisitions of the understanding1 a repose that can only last as long as the slumber of our spiritual faculties2 but let him lead us on to emancipation1 and give us this feeling of higher harmony which compensates for all his troubles and secures the happiness of the victor6 ,let him prepare as his task an idyl that realizes the pastoral innocence1 even in the children of civilization1 and in all the conditions of the most militant and excited life2 of thought enlarged by culture2 of the most refined art2 of the most delicate social conventionalities--an idyl1 in short1 that is made1 not to bring back man to ,arcadia1 but to lead him to ,elysium4 ,this idyl1 as ,i conceive it1 is the idea of humanity definitely reconciled with itself1 in the individual as well as in the whole of society2 it is union freely re-established between inclination and duty2 it is nature purified1 raised to its highest moral dignity2 in short1 it is no less than the ideal of beauty applied to real life4 ,thus1 the character of this idyl is to reconcile perfectly all the contradictions between the real and the ideal1 which formed the matter of satirical and elegiac poetry1 and1 setting aside their contradictions1 to put an end to all conflict between the feelings of the soul4 ,thus1 the dominant expression of this kind of poetry would be calm2 but the calm that follows the accomplishment1 and not that of indolence--the calm that comes from the equilibrium re-established between the faculties1 and not from the suspending of their exercise2 from the fulness of our strength1 and not from our infirmity2 the calm1 in short1 which is accompanied in the soul by the feeling of an infinite power4 ,but precisely because idyl thus conceived removes all idea of struggle1 it will be infinitely more difficult than it was in two previously-named kinds of poetry to express movement2 yet this is an indispensable condition1 without which poetry can never act on men's souls4 ,the most perfect unity is required1 but unity ought not to wrong variety2 the heart must be satisfied1 but without the inspiration ceasing on that account4 ,the solution of this problem is properly what ought to be given us by the theory of the idyl4 ,now1 what are the relations of the two poetries to one another1 and their relations to the poetic ideal8 ,here are the principles we have established4 ,nature has granted this favor to the simple poet1 to act always as an indivisible unity1 to be at all times identical and perfect1 and to represent1 in the real world1 humanity at its highest value4 ,in opposition1 it has given a powerful faculty to the sentimental poet1 or1 rather1 it has imprinted an ardent feeling on him2 this is to replace out of himself this first unity that abstraction has destroyed in him1 to complete humanity in his person1 and to pass from a limited state to an infinite state4 ,they both propose to represent human nature fully1 or they would not be poets2 but the simple poet has always the advantage of sensuous reality over the sentimental poet1 by setting forth as a real fact what the other aspires only to reach4 ,every one experiences this in the pleasure he takes in simple poetry4 ,we there feel that the human faculties are brought into play2 no vacuum is felt2 we have the feeling of unity1 without distinguishing anything of what we experience2 we enjoy both our spiritual activity and also the fulness of physical life4 ,very different is the disposition of mind elicited by the sentimental poet4 ,here we feel only a vivid aspiration to produce in us this harmony of which we had in the other case the consciousness and reality2 to make of ourselves a single and same totality2 to realize in ourselves the idea of humanity as a complete expression4 ,hence it comes that the mind is here all in movement1 stretched1 hesitating between contrary feelings2 whereas it was before calm and at rest1 in harmony with itself1 and fully satisfied4 ,but if the simple poet has the advantage over the sentimental poet on the score of reality2 if he causes really to live that of which the other can only elicit a vivid instinct1 the sentimental poet1 in compensation1 has this great advantage over the simple poet3 to be in a position to offer to this instinct a greater object than that given by his rival1 and the only one he could give4 ,all reality1 we know1 is below the ideal2 all that exists has limits1 but thought is infinite4 ,this limitation1 to which everything is subject in sensuous reality1 is1 therefore1 a disadvantage for the simple poet1 while the absolute1 unconditional freedom of the ideal profits the sentimental poet4 ,no doubt the former accomplishes his object1 but this object is limited2 the second1 ,i admit1 does not entirely accomplish his1 but his object is infinite4 ,here ,i appeal to experience4 ,we pass pleasantly to real life and things from the frame of mind in which the simple poet has placed us4 ,on the other hand1 the sentimental poet will always disgust us1 for a time1 with real life4 ,this is because the infinite character has1 in a manner1 enlarged our mind beyond its natural measure1 so that nothing it finds in the world of sense can fill its capacity4 ,we prefer to fall back in contemplation on ourselves1 where we find food for this awakened impulse towards the ideal world2 while1 in the simple poet1 we only strive to issue out of ourselves1 in search of sensuous objects4 ,sentimental poetry is the offspring of retirement and science1 and invites to it2 simple poetry is inspired by the spectacle of life1 and brings back life4 ,i have styled simple poetry a gift of nature to show that thought has no share in it4 ,it is a first jet1 a happy inspiration1 that needs no correction1 when it turns out well1 and which cannot be rectified if ill turned out4 ,the entire work of the simple genius is accomplished by feeling2 in that is its strength1 and in it are its limits4 ,if1 then1 he has not felt at once in a poetic manner--that is1 in a perfectly human manner--no art in the world can remedy this defect4 ,criticism may help him to see the defect1 but can place no beauty in its stead4 ,simple genius must draw all from nature2 it can do nothing1 or almost nothing1 by its will2 and it will fulfil the idea of this kind of poetry provided nature acts in it by an inner necessity4 ,now1 it is true that all which happens by nature is necessary1 and all the productions1 happy or not1 of the simple genius1 which is disassociated from nothing so much as from arbitrary will1 are also imprinted with this character of necessity2 momentary constraint is one thing1 and the internal necessity dependent on the totality of things another4 ,considered as a whole1 nature is independent and infinite2 in isolated operations it is poor and limited4 ,the same distinction holds good in respect to the nature of the poet4 ,the very moment when he is most happily inspired depends on a preceding instant1 and consequently only a conditional necessity can be attributed to him4 ,but now the problem that the poet ought to solve is to make an individual state similar to the human whole1 and consequently to base it in an absolute and necessary manner on itself4 ,it is therefore necessary that at the moment of inspiration every trace of a temporal need should be banished1 and that the object itself1 however limited1 should not limit the flight of the poet4 ,but it may be conceived that this is only possible in so far as the poet brings to the object an absolute freedom1 an absolute fulness of faculties1 and in so far as he is prepared by an anterior exercise to embrace all things with all his humanity4 ,now he cannot acquire this exercise except by the world in which he lives1 and of which he receives the impressions immediately4 ,thus simple genius is in a state of dependence with regard to experience1 while the sentimental genius is forced from it4 ,we know that the sentimental genius begins its operation at the place where the other finishes its own3 its virtue is to complete by the elements which it derives from itself a defective object1 and to transport itself by its own strength from a limited state to one of absolute freedom4 ,thus the simple poet needs a help from without1 while the sentimental poet feeds his genius from his own fund1 and purifies himself by himself4 ,the former requires a picturesque nature1 a poetical world1 a simple humanity which casts its eyes around2 for he ought to do his work without issuing from the sensuous sphere4 ,if external aid fails him1 if he be surrounded by matter not speaking to mind1 one of two things will happen3 either1 if the general character of the poet-race is what prevails in him1 he issues from the particular class to which he belongs as a poet1 and becomes sentimental to be at any rate poetic2 or1 if his particular character as simple poet has the upper hand1 he leaves his species and becomes a common nature1 in order to remain at any rate natural4 ,the former of these two alternatives might represent the case of the principal poets of the sentimental kind in ,roman antiquity and in modern times4 ,born at another period of the world1 transplanted under another sky1 these poets who stir us now by ideas1 would have charmed us by individual truth and simple beauty4 ,the other alternative is the almost unavoidable quicksand for a poet who1 thrown into a vulgar world1 cannot resolve to lose sight of nature4 ,i mean1 to lose sight of actual nature2 but the greatest care must be given to distinguish actual nature from true nature1 which is the subject of simple poetry4 ,actual nature exists everywhere2 but true nature is so much the more rare because it requires an internal necessity that determines its existence4 ,every eruption of passion1 however vulgar1 is real--it may be even true nature2 but it is not true human nature1 for true human nature requires that the self-directing faculty in us should have a share in the manifestation1 and the expression of this faculty is always dignified4 ,all moral baseness is an actual human phenomenon1 but ,i hope not real human nature1 which is always noble4 ,all the faults of taste cannot be surveyed that have been occasioned in criticism or the practice of art by this--confusion between actual human nature and true human nature4 ,the greatest trivialities are tolerated and applauded under the pretext that they are real nature4 ,caricatures not to be tolerated in the real world are carefully preserved in the poetic world and reproduced according to nature6 ,the poet can certainly imitate a lower nature2 and it enters into the very definition of a satirical poet3 but then a beauty by its own nature must sustain and raise the object1 and the vulgarity of the subject must not lower the imitator too much4 ,if at the moment he paints he is true human nature himself1 the object of his paintings is indifferent2 but it is only on this condition we can tolerate a faithful reproduction of reality4 ,unhappy for us readers when the rod of satire falls into hands that nature meant to handle another instrument1 and when1 devoid of all poetic talent1 with nothing but the ape's mimicry1 they exercise it brutally at the expense of our taste6 ,but vulgar nature has even its dangers for the simple poet2 for the simple poet is formed by this fine harmony of the feeling and thinking faculty1 which yet is only an idea1 never actually realized4 ,even in the happiest geniuses of this class1 receptivity will always more or less carry the day over spontaneous activity4 ,but receptivity is always more or less subordinate to external impressions1 and nothing but a perpetual activity of the creative faculty could prevent matter from exercising a blind violence over this quality4 ,now1 every time this happens the feeling becomes vulgar instead of poetical4 ,no genius of the simple class1 from ,homer down to ,bodmer1 has entirely steered clear of this quicksand4 ,it is evident that it is most perilous to those who have to struggle against external vulgarity1 or who have parted with their refinement owing to a want of proper restraint4 ,the first-named difficulty is the reason why even authors of high cultivation are not always emancipated from platitudes--a fact which has prevented many splendid talents from occupying the place to which they were summoned by nature4 ,for this reason1 a comic poet whose genius has chiefly to deal with scenes of real life1 is more liable to the danger of acquiring vulgar habits of style and expression--a fact evidenced in the case of ,aristophanes1 ,plautus1 and all the poets who have followed in their track4 ,even ,shakspeare1 with all his sublimity1 suffers us to fall very low now and then4 ,again1 ,lope ,de ,vega1 ,moliere1 ,regnard1 ,goldoni worry us with frequent trifling4 ,holberg drags us down into the mire4 ,schlegel1 a ,german poet1 among the most remarkable for intellectual talent1 with genius to raise him to a place among poets of the first order2 ,gellert1 a truly simple poet1 ,rabener1 and ,lessing himself1 if ,i am warranted to introduce his name in this category--this highly-cultivated scholar of criticism and vigilant examiner of his own genius--all these suffer in different degrees from the platitudes and uninspired movements of the natures they chose as the theme of their satire4 ,with regard to more recent authors of this class1 ,i avoid naming any of them1 as ,i can make no exceptions in their case4 ,but not only is simple genius exposed to the danger of coming too near to vulgar reality2 the ease of expression1 even this too close approximation to reality1 encourages vulgar imitators to try their hand in poetry4 ,sentimental poetry1 though offering danger enough1 has this advantage1 to keep this crowd at a distance1 for it is not for the first comer to rise to the ideal2 but simple poetry makes them believe that1 with feeling and humor1 you need only imitate real nature to claim the title of poet4 ,now nothing is more revolting than platitude when it tries to be simple and amiable1 instead of hiding its repulsive nature under the veil of art4 ,this occasions the incredible trivialities loved by the ,germans under the name of simple and facetious songs1 and which give them endless amusement round a well-garnished table4 ,under the pretext of good humor and of sentiment people tolerate these poverties3 but this good humor and this sentiment ought to be carefully proscribed4 ,the ,muses of the ,pleisse1 in particular1 are singularly pitiful2 and other ,muses respond to them1 from the banks of the ,seine1 and the ,elbe4 ,if these pleasantries are flat1 the passion heard on our tragic stage is equally pitiful1 for1 instead of imitating true nature1 it is only an insipid and ignoble expression of the actual4 ,thus1 after shedding torrents of tears1 you feel as you would after visiting a hospital or reading the ,human ,misery of ,saltzmann4 ,but the evil is worse in satirical poetry and comic romance1 kinds which touch closely on every-day life1 and which consequently1 as all frontier posts1 ought to be in safer hands4 ,in truth1 he less than any other is called on to become the painter of his century1 who is himself the child and caricature of his century4 ,but as1 after all1 nothing is easier than to take in hand1 among our acquaintances1 a comic character--a big1 fat man--and draw a coarse likeness of him on paper1 the sworn enemies of poetic inspiration are often led to blot some paper in this way to amuse a circle of friends4 ,it is true that a pure heart1 a well-made mind1 will never confound these vulgar productions with the inspirations of simple genius4 ,but purity of feeling is the very thing that is wanting1 and in most cases nothing is thought of but satisfying a want of sense1 without spiritual nature having any share4 ,a fundamentally just idea1 ill understood1 that works of bel esprit serve to recreate the mind1 contributes to keep up this indulgence1 if indulgence it may be called when nothing higher occupies the mind1 and reader as well as writer find their chief interest therein4 ,this is because vulgar natures1 if overstrained1 can only be refreshed by vacuity2 and even a higher intelligence1 when not sustained by a proportional culture1 can only rest from its work amidst sensuous enjoyments1 from which spiritual nature is absent4 ,poetic genius ought to have strength enough to rise with a free and innate activity above all the accidental hinderances which are inseparable from every confined condition1 to arrive at a representation of humanity in the absolute plenitude of its powers2 it is not1 however1 permitted1 on the other hand1 to emancipate itself from the necessary limits implied by the very idea of human nature2 for the absolute only in the circle of humanity is its true problem4 ,simple genius is not exposed to overstep this sphere1 but rather not to fill it entirely1 giving too much scope to external necessity1 to accidental wants1 at the expense of the inner necessity4 ,the danger for the sentimental genius is1 on the other hand1 by trying to remove all limits1 of nullifying human nature absolutely1 and not only rising1 as is its right and duty1 beyond finite and determinate reality1 as far as absolute possibility1 or in other terms to idealize2 but of passing even beyond possibility1 or1 in other words1 dreaming4 ,this fault--overstraining--is precisely dependent on the specific property of the sentimental process1 as the opposite defect1 inertia1 depends on the peculiar operation of the simple genius4 ,the simple genius lets nature dominate1 without restricting it2 and as nature in her particular phenomena is always subject to some want1 it follows that the simple sentiment will not be always exalted enough to resist the accidental limitations of the present hour4 ,the sentimental genius1 on the contrary1 leaves aside the real world1 to rise to the ideal and to command its matter with free spontaneity4 ,but while reason1 according to law1 aspires always to the unconditional1 so the sentimental genius will not always remain calm enough to restrain itself uniformly and without interruption within the conditions implied by the idea of human nature1 and to which reason must always1 even in its freest acts1 remain attached4 ,he could only confine himself in these conditions by help of a receptivity proportioned to his free activity2 but most commonly the activity predominates over receptivity in the sentimental poet1 as much as receptivity over activity in the simple poet4 ,hence1 in the productions of simple genius1 if sometimes inspiration is wanting1 so also in works of sentimental poetry the object is often missed4 ,thus1 though they proceed in opposite ways1 they will both fall into a vacuum1 for before the aesthetic judgment an object without inspiration1 and inspiration without an object1 are both negations4 ,the poets who borrow their matter too much from thought1 and rather conceive poetic pictures by the internal abundance of ideas than by the suggestions of feeling1 are more or less likely to be addicted to go thus astray4 ,in their creations reason makes too little of the limits of the sensuous world1 and thought is always carried too far for experience to follow it4 ,now1 when the idea is carried so far that not only no experience corresponds to it--as is the case in the beau ideal--but also that it is repugnant to the conditions of all possible experience1 so that1 in order to realize it1 one must leave human nature altogether1 it is no longer a poetic but an exaggerated thought2 that is1 supposing it claims to be representable and poetical1 for otherwise it is enough if it is not self-contradictory4 ,if thought is contradictory it is not exaggeration1 but nonsense2 for what does not exist cannot exceed4 ,but when the thought is not an object proposed to the fancy1 we are just as little justified in calling it exaggerated4 ,for simple thought is infinite1 and what is limitless also cannot exceed4 ,exaggeration1 therefore1 is only that which wounds1 not logical truth1 but sensuous truth1 and what pretends to be sensuous truth4 ,consequently1 if a poet has the unhappy chance to choose for his picture certain natures that are merely superhuman and cannot possibly be represented1 he can only avoid exaggeration by ceasing to be a poet1 and not trusting the theme to his imagination4 ,otherwise one of two things would happen3 either imagination1 applying its limits to the object1 would make a limited and merely human object of an absolute object--which happened with the gods of ,greece--or the object would take away limits from fancy1 that is1 would render it null and void1 and this is precisely exaggeration4 ,extravagance of feeling should be distinguished from extravagance of portraiture2 we are speaking of the former4 ,the object of the feeling may be unnatural1 but the feeling itself is natural1 and ought accordingly to be shadowed forth in the language of nature4 ,while extravagant feelings may issue from a warm heart and a really poetic nature1 extravagance of portraiture always displays a cold heart1 and very often a want of poetic capacity4 ,therefore this is not a danger for the sentimental poet1 but only for the imitator1 who has no vocation2 it is therefore often found with platitude1 insipidity1 and even baseness4 ,exaggeration of sentiment is not without truth1 and must have a real object2 as nature inspires it1 it admits of simplicity of expression and coming from the heart it goes to the heart4 ,as its object1 however1 is not in nature1 but artificially produced by the understanding1 it has only a logical reality1 and the feeling is not purely human4 ,it was not an illusion that ,heloise had for ,abelard1 ,petrarch for ,laura1 ,saint ,preux for his ,julia1 ,werther for his ,charlotte2 ,agathon1 ,phanias1 and ,peregrinus--in ,wieland--for the object of their dreams3 the feeling is true1 only the object is factitious and outside nature4 ,if their thought had kept to simple sensuous truth1 it could not have taken this flight2 but on the other hand a mere play of fancy1 without inner value1 could not have stirred the heart3 this is only stirred by reason4 ,thus this sort of exaggeration must be called to order1 but it is not contemptible3 and those who ridicule it would do well to find out if the wisdom on which they pride themselves is not want of heart1 and if it is not through want of reason that they are so acute4 ,the exaggerated delicacy in gallantry and honor which characterizes the chivalrous romances1 especially of ,spain1 is of this kind2 also the refined and even ridiculous tenderness of ,french and ,english sentimental romances of the best kind4 ,these sentiments are not only subjectively true1 but also objectively they are not without value2 they are sound sentiments issuing from a moral source1 only reprehensible as overstepping the limits of human truth4 ,without this moral reality how could they stir and touch so powerfully8 ,the same remark applies to moral and religious fanaticism1 patriotism1 and the love of freedom when carried up to exaltation4 ,as the object of these sentiments is always a pure idea1 and not an external experience1 imagination with its proper activity has here a dangerous liberty1 and cannot1 as elsewhere1 be called back to bounds by the presence of a visible object4 ,but neither the man nor the poet can withdraw from the law of nature1 except to submit to that of reason4 ,he can only abandon reality for the ideal2 for liberty must hold to one or the other of these anchors4 ,but it is far from the real to the ideal2 and between the two is found fancy1 with its arbitrary conceits and its unbridled freedom4 ,it must needs be1 therefore1 that man in general1 and the poet in particular1 when he withdraws by liberty of his understanding from the dominion of feeling1 without being moved to it by the laws of reason--that is1 when he abandons nature through pure liberty--he finds himself freed from all law1 and therefore a prey to the illusions of phantasy4 ,it is testified by experience that entire nations1 as well as individual men1 who have parted with the safe direction of nature1 are actually in this condition2 and poets have gone astray in the same manner4 ,the true genius of sentimental poetry1 if its aim is to raise itself to the rank of the ideal1 must overstep the limits of the existing nature2 but false genius oversteps all boundaries without any discrimination1 flattering itself with the belief that the wild sport of the imagination is poetic inspiration4 ,a true poetical genius can never fall into this error1 because it only abandons the real for the sake of the ideal1 or1 at all events1 it can only do so at certain moments when the poet forgets himself2 but his main tendencies may dispose him to extravagance within the sphere of the senses4 ,his example may also drive others into a chase of wild conceptions1 because readers of lively fancy and weak understanding only remark the freedom which he takes with existing nature1 and are unable to follow him in copying the elevated necessities of his inner being4 ,the same difficulties beset the path of the sentimental genius in this respect1 as those which afflict the career of a genius of the simple order4 ,if a genius of this class carries out every work1 obedient to the free and spontaneous impulses of his nature1 the man devoid of genius who seeks to imitate him is not willing to consider his own nature a worse guide than that of the great poet4 ,this accounts for the fact that masterpieces of simple poetry are commonly followed by a host of stale and unprofitable works in print1 and masterpieces of the sentimental class by wild and fanciful effusions1--a fact that may be easily verified on questioning the history of literature4 ,two maxims are prevalent in relation to poetry1 both of them quite correct in themselves1 but mutually destructive in the way in which they are generally conceived4 ,the first is1 that poetry serves as a means of amusement and recreation1 and we have previously observed that this maxim is highly favorable to aridity and platitudes in poetical actions4 ,the other maxim1 that poetry is conducive to the moral progress of humanity1 takes under its shelter theories and views of the most wild and extravagant character4 ,it may be profitable to examine more attentively these two maxims1 of which so much is heard1 and which are so often imperfectly understood and falsely applied4 ,we say that a thing amuses us when it makes us pass from a forced state to the state that is natural to us4 ,the whole question here is to know in what our natural state ought to consist1 and what a forced state means4 ,if our natural state is made to consist merely in the free development of all our physical powers1 in emancipation from all constraint1 it follows that every act of reason by resisting what is sensuous1 is a violence we undergo1 and rest of mind combined with physical movement will be a recreation par excellence4 ,but if we make our natural state consist in a limitless power of human expression and of freely disposing of all our strength1 all that divides these forces will be a forced state1 and recreation will be what brings all our nature to harmony4 ,thus1 the first of these ideal recreations is simply determined by the wants of our sensuous nature2 the second1 by the autonomous activity of human nature4 ,which of these two kinds of recreation can be demanded of the poet8 ,theoretically1 the question is inadmissible1 as no one would put the human ideal beneath the brutal4 ,but in practice the requirements of a poet have been especially directed to the sensuous ideal1 and for the most part favor1 though not the esteem1 for these sorts of works is regulated thereby4 ,men's minds are mostly engaged in a labor that exhausts them1 or an enjoyment that sets them asleep4 ,now labor makes rest a sensible want1 much more imperious than that of the moral nature2 for physical nature must be satisfied before the mind can show its requirements4 ,on the other hand1 enjoyment paralyzes the moral instinct4 ,hence these two dispositions common in men are very injurious to the feeling for true beauty1 and thus very few even of the best judge soundly in aesthetics4 ,beauty results from the harmony between spirit and sense2 it addresses all the faculties of man1 and can only be appreciated if a man employs fully all his strength4 ,he must bring to it an open sense1 a broad heart1 a spirit full of freshness4 ,all a man's nature must be on the alert1 and this is not the case with those divided by abstraction1 narrowed by formulas1 enervated by application4 ,they demand1 no doubt1 a material for the senses2 but not to quicken1 only to suspend1 thought4 ,they ask to be freed from what8 ,from a load that oppressed their indolence1 and not a rein that curbed their activity4 ,after this can one wonder at the success of mediocre talents in aesthetics8 or at the bitter anger of small minds against true energetic beauty8 ,they reckon on finding therein a congenial recreation1 and regret to discover that a display of strength is required to which they are unequal4 ,with mediocrity they are always welcome2 however little mind they bring1 they want still less to exhaust the author's inspiration4 ,they are relieved of the load of thought2 and their nature can lull itself in beatific nothings on the soft pillow of platitude4 ,in the temple of ,thalia and ,melpomene--at least1 so it is with us--the stupid savant and the exhausted man of business are received on the broad bosom of the goddess1 where their intelligence is wrapped in a magnetic sleep1 while their sluggish senses are warmed1 and their imagination with gentle motions rocked4 ,vulgar people may be excused what happens to the best capacities4 ,those moments of repose demanded by nature after lengthy labor are not favorable to aesthetic judgment1 and hence in the busy classes few can pronounce safely on matters of taste4 ,nothing is more common than for scholars to make a ridiculous figure1 in regard to a question of beauty1 besides cultured men of the world2 and technical critics are especially the laughing-stock of connoisseurs4 ,their opinion1 from exaggeration1 crudeness1 or carelessness guides them generally quite awry1 and they can only devise a technical judgment1 and not an aesthetical one1 embracing the whole work1 in which feeling should decide4 ,if they would kindly keep to technicalities they might still be useful1 for the poet in moments of inspiration and readers under his spell are little inclined to consider details4 ,but the spectacle which they afford us is only the more ridiculous inasmuch as we see these crude natures--with whom all labor and trouble only develop at the most a particular aptitude1--when we see them set up their paltry individualities as the representation of universal and complete feeling1 and in the sweat of their brow pronounce judgment on beauty4 ,we have just seen that the kind of recreation poetry ought to afford is generally conceived in too restricted a manner1 and only referred to a simple sensuous want4 ,too much scope1 however1 is also given to the other idea1 the moral ennobling the poet should have in view1 inasmuch as too purely an ideal aim is assigned4 ,in fact1 according to the pure ideal1 the ennobling goes on to infinity1 because reason is not restricted to any sensuous limits1 and only finds rest in absolute perfection4 ,nothing can satisfy whilst a superior thing can be conceived2 it judges strictly and admits no excuses of infirmity and finite nature4 ,it only admits for limits those of thought1 which transcends time and space4 ,hence the poet could no more propose to himself such an ideal of ennobling 7traced for him by pure 7didactic7 reason7 any more than the coarse ideal of recreation of sensuous nature4 ,the aim is to free human nature from accidental hinderances1 without destroying the essential ideal of our humanity1 or displacing its limits4 ,all beyond this is exaggeration1 and a quicksand in which the poet too easily suffers shipwreck if he mistakes the idea of nobleness4 ,but1 unfortunately1 he cannot rise to the true ideal of ennobled human nature without going some steps beyond it4 ,to rise so high he must abandon the world of reality1 for1 like every ideal1 it is only to be drawn from its inner moral source4 ,he does not find it in the turmoil of worldly life1 but only in his heart1 and that only in calm meditation4 ,but in this separation from real life he is likely to lose sight of all the limits of human nature1 and seeking pure form he may easily lose himself in arbitrary and baseless conceptions4 ,reason will abstract itself too much from experience1 and the practical man will not be able to carry out1 in the crush of real life1 what the contemplative mind has discovered on the peaceful path of thought4 ,thus1 what makes a dreamy man is the very thing that alone could have made him a sage2 and the advantage for the latter is not that he has never been a dreamer1 but rather that he has not remained one4 ,we must not1 then1 allow the workers to determine recreation according to their wants1 nor thinkers that of nobleness according to their speculations1 for fear of either a too low physical poetry1 or a poetry too given to hyperphysical exaggeration4 ,and as these two ideas direct most men's judgments on poetry1 we must seek a class of mind at once active1 but not slavishly so1 and idealizing1 but not dreamy2 uniting the reality of life within as few limits as possible1 obeying the current of human affairs1 but not enslaved by them4 ,such a class of men can alone preserve the beautiful unity of human nature1 that harmony which all work for a moment disturbs1 and a life of work destroys2 such alone can1 in all that is purely human1 give by its feelings universal rules of judgment4 ,whether such a class exists1 or whether the class now existing in like conditions answers to this ideal conception1 ,i am not concerned to inquire4 ,if it does not respond to the ideal it has only itself to blame4 ,in such a class--here regarded as a mere ideal--the simple and sentimental would keep each other from extremes of extravagance and relaxation4 ,for the idea of a beautiful humanity is not exhausted by either1 but can only be presented in the union of both4 ,,the ,,stage ,,as ,a ,,moral ,,institution4 ,sulzer has remarked that the stage has arisen from an irresistible longing for the new and extraordinary4 ,man1 oppressed by divided cares1 and satiated with sensual pleasure1 felt an emptiness or want4 ,man1 neither altogether satisfied with the senses1 nor forever capable of thought1 wanted a middle state1 a bridge between the two states1 bringing them into harmony4 ,beauty and aesthetics supplied that for him4 ,but a good lawgiver is not satisfied with discovering the bent of his people-- he turns it to account as an instrument for higher use2 and hence he chose the stage1 as giving nourishment to the soul1 without straining it1 and uniting the noblest education of the head and heart4 ,the man who first pronounced religion to be the strongest pillar of the state1 unconsciously defended the stage1 when he said so1 in its noblest aspect4 ,the uncertain nature of political events1 rendering religion a necessity1 also demands the stage as a moral force4 ,laws only prevent disturbances of social life2 religion prescribes positive orders sustaining social order4 ,law only governs actions2 religion controls the heart and follows thought to the source4 ,laws are flexible and capricious2 religion binds forever4 ,if religion has this great sway over man's heart1 can it also complete his culture8 ,separating the political from the divine element in it1 religion acts mostly on the senses2 she loses her sway if the senses are gone4 ,by what channel does the stage operate8 ,to most men religion vanishes with the loss of her symbols1 images1 and problems2 and yet they are only pictures of the imagination1 and insolvable problems4 ,both laws and religion are strengthened by a union with the stage1 where virtue and vice1 joy and sorrow1 are thoroughly displayed in a truthful and popular way2 where a variety of providential problems are solved2 where all secrets are unmasked1 all artifice ends1 and truth alone is the judge1 as incorruptible as ,rhadamanthus4 ,where the influence of civil laws ends that of the stage begins4 ,where venality and corruption blind and bias justice and judgment1 and intimidation perverts its ends1 the stage seizes the sword and scales and pronounces a terrible verdict on vice4 ,the fields of fancy and of history are open to the stage2 great criminals of the past live over again in the drama1 and thus benefit an indignant posterity4 ,they pass before us as empty shadows of their age1 and we heap curses on their memory while we enjoy on the stage the very horror of their crimes4 ,when morality is no more taught1 religion no longer received1 or laws exist1 ,medea would still terrify us with her infanticide4 ,the sight of ,lady ,macbeth1 while it makes us shudder1 will also make us rejoice in a good conscience1 when we see her1 the sleep-walker1 washing her hands and seeking to destroy the awful smell of murder4 ,sight is always more powerful to man than description2 hence the stage acts more powerfully than morality or law4 ,but in this the stage only aids justice4 ,a far wider field is really open to it4 ,there are a thousand vices unnoticed by human justice1 but condemned by the stage2 so1 also1 a thousand virtues overlooked by man's laws are honored on the stage4 ,it is thus the handmaid of religion and philosophy4 ,from these pure sources it draws its high principles and the exalted teachings1 and presents them in a lovely form4 ,the soul swells with noblest emotions when a divine ideal is placed before it4 ,when ,augustus offers his forgiving hand to ,cinna1 the conspirator1 and says to him3 ,let us be friends1 ,cinna6 what man at the moment does not feel that he could do the same4 ,again1 when ,francis von ,sickingen1 proceeding to punish a prince and redress a stranger1 on turning sees the house1 where his wife and children are1 in flames1 and yet goes on for the sake of his word--how great humanity appears1 how small the stern power of fate6 ,vice is portrayed on the stage in an equally telling manner4 ,thus1 when old ,lear1 blind1 helpless1 childless1 is seen knocking in vain at his daughters' doors1 and in tempest and night he recounts by telling his woes to the elements1 and ends by saying3 ,i have given you all1--how strongly impressed we feel at the value of filial piety1 and how hateful ingratitude seems to us6 ,the stage does even more than this4 ,it cultivates the ground where religion and law do not think it dignified to stop4 ,folly often troubles the world as much as crime2 and it has been justly said that the heaviest loads often hang suspended by the slightest threads4 ,tracing actions to their sources1 the list of criminals diminish1 and we laugh at the long catalogue of fools4 ,in our sex all forms of evil emanate almost entirely from one source1 and all our excesses are only varied and higher forms of one quality1 and that a quality which in the end we smile at and love2 and why should not nature have followed this course in the opposite sex too8 ,in man there is only one secret to guard against depravity2 that is1 to protect his heart against wickedness4 ,much of all this is shown up on the stage4 ,it is a mirror to reflect fools and their thousand forms of folly1 which are there turned to ridicule4 ,it curbs vice by terror1 and folly still more effectually by satire and jest4 ,if a comparison be made between tragedy and comedy1 guided by experience1 we should probably give the palm to the latter as to effects produced4 ,hatred does not wound the conscience so much as mockery does the pride of man4 ,we are exposed specially to the sting of satire by the very cowardice that shuns terrors4 ,from sins we are guarded by law and conscience1 but the ludicrous is specially punished on the stage4 ,where we allow a friend to correct our morals1 we rarely forgive a laugh4 ,we may bear heavy judgment on our transgressions1 but our weaknesses and vulgarities must not be criticised by a witness4 ,the stage alone can do this with impunity1 chastising us as the anonymous fool4 ,we can bear this rebuke without a blush1 and even gratefully4 ,but the stage does even more than this4 ,it is a great school of practical wisdom1 a guide for civil life1 and a key to the mind in all its sinuosities4 ,it does not1 of course1 remove egoism and stubbornness in evil ways2 for a thousand vices hold up their heads in spite of the stage1 and a thousand virtues make no impression on cold-hearted spectators4 ,thus1 probably1 ,moliere's ,harpagon never altered a usurer's heart1 nor did the suicide in ,beverley save any one from the gaming-table4 ,nor1 again1 is it likely that the high roads will be safer through ,karl ,moor's untimely end4 ,but1 admitting this1 and more than this1 still how great is the influence of the stage6 ,it has shown us the vices and virtues of men with whom we have to live4 ,we are not surprised at their weaknesses1 we are prepared for them4 ,the stage points them out to us1 and their remedy4 ,it drags off the mask from the hypocrite1 and betrays the meshes of intrigue4 ,duplicity and cunning have been forced by it to show their hideous features in the light of day4 ,perhaps the dying ,sarah may not deter a single debauchee1 nor all the pictures of avenged seduction stop the evil2 yet unguarded innocence has been shown the snares of the corrupter1 and taught to distrust his oaths4 ,the stage also teaches men to bear the strokes of fortune4 ,chance and design have equal sway over life4 ,we have to bow to the former1 but we control the latter4 ,it is a great advantage if inexorable facts do not find us unprepared and unexercised1 and if our breast has been steeled to bear adversity4 ,much human woe is placed before us on the stage4 ,it gives us momentary pain in the tears we shed for strangers' troubles1 but as a compensation it fills us with a grand new stock of courage and endurance4 ,we are led by it1 with the abandoned ,ariadne1 through the ,isle of ,naxos1 and we descend the ,tower of ,starvation in ,ugolino2 we ascend the terrible scaffold1 and we are present at the awful moment of execution4 ,things remotely present in thought become palpable realities now4 ,we see the deceived favorite abandoned by the queen4 ,when about to die1 the perfidious ,moor is abandoned by his own sophistry4 ,eternity reveals the secrets of the unknown through the dead1 and the hateful wretch loses all screen of guilt when the tomb opens to condemn him4 ,then the stage teaches us to be more considerate to the unfortunate1 and to judge gently4 ,we can only pronounce on a man when we know his whole being and circumstances4 ,theft is a base crime1 but tears mingle with our condemnation1 when we read what obliged ,edward ,ruhberg to do the horrid deed4 ,suicide is shocking2 but the condemnation of an enraged father1 her love1 and the fear of a convent1 lead ,marianne to drink the cup1 and few would dare to condemn the victim of a dreadful tyranny4 ,humanity and tolerance have begun to prevail in our time at courts of princes and in courts of law4 ,a large share of this may be due to the influence of the stage in showing man and his secret motives4 ,the great of the world ought to be especially grateful to the stage1 for it is here alone that they hear the truth4 ,not only man's mind1 but also his intellectual culture1 has been promoted by the higher drama4 ,the lofty mind and the ardent patriot have often used the stage to spread enlightenment4 ,considering nations and ages1 the thinker sees the masses enchained by opinion and cut off by adversity from happiness2 truth only lights up a few minds1 who perhaps have to acquire it by the trials of a lifetime4 ,how can the wise ruler put these within the reach of his nation4 ,the thoughtful and the worthier section of the people diffuse the light of wisdom over the masses through the stage4 ,purer and better principles and motives issue from the stage and circulate through society3 the night of barbarism and superstition vanishes4 ,i would mention two glorious fruits of the higher class of dramas4 ,religious toleration has latterly become universal4 ,before ,nathan the ,jew and ,saladin the ,saracen put us to shame1 and showed that resignation to ,god's will did not depend on a fancied belief of ,his nature--even before ,joseph ,,ii4 contended with the hatred of a narrow piety--the stage had sown seeds of humanity and gentleness3 pictures of fanaticism had taught a hatred of intolerance1 and ,christianity1 seeing itself in this awful mirror1 washed off its stains4 ,it is to be hoped that the stage will equally combat mistaken systems of education4 ,this is a subject of the first political importance1 and yet none is so left to private whims and caprice4 ,the stage might give stirring examples of mistaken education1 and lead parents to juster1 better views of the subject4 ,many teachers are led astray by false views1 and methods are often artificial and fatal4 ,opinions about governments and classes might be reformed by the stage4 ,legislation could thus justify itself by foreign symbols1 and silence doubtful aspersions without offence4 ,now1 if poets would be patriotic they could do much on the stage to forward invention and industry4 ,a standing theatre would be a material advantage to a nation4 ,it would have a great influence on the national temper and mind by helping the nation to agree in opinions and inclinations4 ,the stage alone can do this1 because it commands all human knowledge1 exhausts all positions1 illumines all hearts1 unites all classes1 and makes its way to the heart and understanding by the most popular channels4 ,if one feature characterized all dramas2 if the poets were allied in aim--that is1 if they selected well and from national topics--there would be a national stage1 and we should become a nation4 ,it was this that knit the ,greeks so strongly together1 and this gave to them the all-absorbing interest in the republic and the advancement of humanity4 ,another advantage belongs to the stage2 one which seems to have become acknowledged even by its censurers4 ,its influence on intellectual and moral culture1 which we have till now been advocating1 may be doubted2 but its very enemies have admitted that it has gained the palm over all other means of amusement4 ,it has been of much higher service here than people are often ready to allow4 ,human nature cannot bear to be always on the rack of business1 and the charms of sense die out with their gratification4 ,man1 oppressed by appetites1 weary of long exertion1 thirsts for refined pleasure1 or rushes into dissipations that hasten his fall and ruin1 and disturb social order4 ,bacchanal joys1 gambling1 follies of all sorts to disturb ennui1 are unavoidable if the lawgiver produces nothing better4 ,a man of public business1 who has made noble sacrifices to the state1 is apt to pay for them with melancholy1 the scholar to become a pedant1 and the people brutish1 without the stage4 ,the stage is an institution combining amusement with instruction1 rest with exertion1 where no faculty of the mind is overstrained1 no pleasure enjoyed at the cost of the whole4 ,when melancholy gnaws the heart1 when trouble poisons our solitude1 when we are disgusted with the world1 and a thousand worries oppress us1 or when our energies are destroyed by over-exercise1 the stage revives us1 we dream of another sphere1 we recover ourselves1 our torpid nature is roused by noble passions1 our blood circulates more healthily4 ,the unhappy man forgets his tears in weeping for another4 ,the happy man is calmed1 the secure made provident4 ,effeminate natures are steeled1 savages made man1 and1 as the supreme triumph of nature1 men of all clanks1 zones1 and conditions1 emancipated from the chains of conventionality and fashion1 fraternize here in a universal sympathy1 forget the world1 and come nearer to their heavenly destination4 ,the individual shares in the general ecstacy1 and his breast has now only space for an emotion3 he is a man4 ,,on ,,the ,,tragic ,,art4 ,the state of passion in itself1 independently of the good or bad influence of its object on our morality1 has something in it that charms us4 ,we aspire to transport ourselves into that state1 even if it costs us some sacrifices4 ,you will find this instinct at the bottom of all our most habitual pleasures4 ,as to the nature itself of the affection1 whether it be one of aversion or desire1 agreeable or painful1 this is what we take little into consideration4 ,experience teaches us that painful affections are those which have the most attraction for us1 and thus that the pleasure we take in an affection is precisely in an inverse ratio to its nature4 ,it is a phenomenon common to all men1 that sad1 frightful things1 even the horrible1 exercise over us an irresistible seduction1 and that in presence of a scene of desolation and of terror we feel at once repelled and attracted by two equal forces4 ,suppose the case be an assassination4 ,then every one crowds round the narrator and shows a marked attention4 ,any ghost story1 however embellished by romantic circumstances1 is greedily devoured by us1 and the more readily in proportion as the story is calculated to make our hair stand on end4 ,this disposition is developed in a more lively manner when the objects themselves are placed before our eyes4 ,a tempest that would swallow up an entire fleet would be1 seen from shore1 a spectacle as attractive to our imagination as it would be shocking to our heart4 ,it would be difficult to believe with ,lucretius that this natural pleasure results from a comparison between our own safety and the danger of which we are witnesses4 ,see what a crowd accompanies a criminal to the scene of his punishment6 ,this phenomenon cannot be explained either by the pleasure of satisfying our love of justice1 nor the ignoble joy of vengeance4 ,perhaps the unhappy man may find excuses in the hearts of those present2 perhaps the sincerest pity takes an interest in his reprieve3 this does not prevent a lively curiosity in the spectators to watch his expressions of pain with eye and ear4 ,if an exception seems to exist here in the case of a well-bred man1 endowed with a delicate sense1 this does not imply that he is a complete stranger to this instinct2 but in his case the painful strength of compassion carries the day over this instinct1 or it is kept under by the laws of decency4 ,the man of nature1 who is not chained down by any feeling of human delicacy1 abandons himself without any sense of shame to this powerful instinct4 ,this attraction must1 therefore1 have its spring of action in an original disposition1 and it must be explained by a psychological law common to the whole species4 ,but if it seems to us that these brutal instincts of nature are incompatible with the dignity of man1 and if we hesitate1 for this reason1 to establish on this fact a law common to the whole species1 yet no experiences are required to prove1 with the completest evidence1 that the pleasure we take in painful emotions is real1 and that it is general4 ,the painful struggle of a heart drawn asunder between its inclinations or contrary duties1 a struggle which is a cause of misery to him who experiences it1 delights the person who is a mere spectator4 ,we follow with always heightening pleasure the progress of a passion to the abyss into which it hurries its unhappy victim4 ,the same delicate feeling that makes us turn our eyes aside from the sight of physical suffering1 or even from the physical expression of a purely moral pain1 makes us experience a pleasure heightened in sweetness1 in the sympathy for a purely moral pain4 ,the interest with which we stop to look at the painting of these kinds of objects is a general phenomenon4 ,of course this can only be understood of sympathetic affections1 or those felt as a secondary effect after their first impression2 for commonly direct and personal affections immediately call into life in us the instinct of our own happiness1 they take up all our thoughts1 and seize hold of us too powerfully to allow any room for the feeling of pleasure that accompanies them1 when the affection is freed from all personal relation4 ,thus1 in the mind that is really a prey to painful passion1 the feeling of pain commands all others notwithstanding all the charm that the painting of its moral state may offer to the hearers and the spectators4 ,and yet the painful affection is not deprived of all pleasure1 even for him who experiences it directly2 only this pleasure differs in degree according to the nature of each person's mind4 ,the sports of chance would not have half so much attraction for us were there not a kind of enjoyment in anxiety1 in doubt1 and in fear2 danger would not be encountered from mere foolhardiness2 and the very sympathy which interests us in the trouble of another would not be to us that pleasure which is never more lively than at the very moment when the illusion is strongest1 and when we substitute ourselves most entirely in the place of the person who suffers4 ,but this does not imply that disagreeable affections cause pleasure of themselves1 nor do ,i think any one will uphold this view2 it suffices that these states of the mind are the conditions that alone make possible for its certain kinds of pleasure4 ,thus the hearts particularly sensitive to this kind of pleasure1 and most greedy of them1 will be more easily led to share these disagreeable affections1 which are the condition of the former2 and even in the most violent storms of passion they will always preserve some remains of their freedom4 ,the displeasure we feel in disagreeable affections comes from the relation of our sensuous faculty or of our moral faculty with their object4 ,in like manner1 the pleasure we experience in agreeable affections proceeds from the very same source4 ,the degree of liberty that may prevail in the affections depends on the proportion between the moral nature and the sensuous nature of a man4 ,now it is well known that in the moral order there is nothing arbitrary for us1 that1 on the contrary1 the sensuous instinct is subject to the laws of reason and consequently depends more or less on our will4 ,hence it is evident that we can keep our liberty full and entire in all those affections that are concerned with the instinct of self-love1 and that we are the masters to determine the degree which they ought to attain4 ,this degree will be less in proportion as the moral sense in a man will prevail over the instinct of happiness1 and as by obeying the universal laws of reasons he will have freed himself from the selfish requirements of his individuality1 his ,ego4 ,a man of this kind must therefore1 in a state of passion1 feel much less vividly the relation of an object with his own instinct of happiness1 and consequently he will be much less sensible of the displeasure that arises from this relation4 ,on the other hand1 he will be perpetually more attentive to the relation of this same object with his moral nature1 and for this very reason he will be more sensible to the pleasure which the relation of the object with morality often mingles with the most painful affections4 ,a mind thus constituted is better fitted than all others to enjoy the pleasure attaching to compassion1 and even to regard a personal affection as an object of simple compassion4 ,hence the inestimable value of a moral philosophy1 which1 by raising our eyes constantly towards general laws1 weakens in us the feeling of our individuality1 teaches us to plunge our paltry personality in something great1 and enables us thus to act to ourselves as to strangers4 ,this sublime state of the mind is the lot of strong philosophic minds1 which by working assiduously on themselves have learned to bridle the egotistical instinct4 ,even the most cruel loss does not drive them beyond a certain degree of sadness1 with which an appreciable sum of pleasure can always be reconciled4 ,these souls1 which are alone capable of separating themselves from themselves1 alone enjoy the privilege of sympathizing with themselves and of receiving of their own sufferings only a reflex1 softened by sympathy4 ,the indications contained in what precedes will suffice to direct our attention to the sources of the pleasure that the affection in itself causes1 more particularly the sad affection4 ,we have seen that this pleasure is more energetic in moral souls1 and it acts with greater freedom in proportion as the soul is more independent of the egotistical instinct4 ,this pleasure is1 moreover1 more vivid and stronger in sad affections1 when self-love is painfully disquieted1 than in gay affections1 which imply a satisfaction of self-love4 ,accordingly this pleasure increases when the egotistical instinct is wounded1 and diminishes when that instinct is flattered4 ,now we only know of two sources of pleasure--the satisfaction of the instinct of happiness1 and the accomplishment of the moral laws4 ,therefore1 when it is shown that a particular pleasure does not emanate from the former source1 it must of necessity issue from the second4 ,it is therefore from our moral nature that issues the charm of the painful affections shared by sympathy1 and the pleasure that we sometimes feel even where the painful affection directly affects ourselves4 ,many attempts have been made to account for the pleasure of pity1 but most of these solutions had little chance of meeting the problem1 because the principle of this phenomenon was sought for rather in the accompanying circumstances than in the nature of the affection itself4 ,to many persons the pleasure of pity is simply the pleasure taken by the mind in exercising its own sensibility4 ,to others it is the pleasure of occupying their forces energetically1 of exercising the social faculty vividly--in short1 of satisfying the instinct of restlessness4 ,others again make it derived from the discovery of morally fine features of character1 placed in a clear light by the struggle against adversity or against the passions4 ,but there is still the difficulty to explain why it should be exactly the very feeling of pain1--suffering properly so called1--that in objects of pity attracts us with the greatest force1 while1 according to those elucidations1 a less degree of suffering ought evidently to be more favorable to those causes to which the source of the emotion is traced4 ,various matters may1 no doubt1 increase the pleasure of the emotion without occasioning it4 ,of this nature are the vividness and force of the ideas awakened in our imagination1 the moral excellence of the suffering persons1 the reference to himself of the person feeling pity4 ,i admit that the suffering of a weak soul1 and the pain of a wicked character1 do not procure us this enjoyment4 ,but this is because they do not excite our pity to the same degree as the hero who suffers1 or the virtuous man who struggles4 ,thus we are constantly brought back to the first question3 why is it precisely the degree of suffering that determines the degree of sympathetic pleasure which we take in an emotion8 and one answer only is possible2 it is because the attack made on our sensibility is precisely the condition necessary to set in motion that quality of mind of which the activity produces the pleasure we feel in sympathetic affections4 ,now this faculty is no other than the reason2 and because the free exercise of reason1 as an absolutely independent activity1 deserves par excellence the name of activity2 as1 moreover1 the heart of man only feels itself perfectly free and independent in its moral acts1 it follows that the charm of tragic emotions is really dependent on the fact that this instinct of activity finds its gratification in them4 ,but1 even admitting this1 it is neither the great number nor the vivacity of the ideas that are awakened then in our imagination1 nor in general the exercise of the social faculty1 but a certain kind of ideas and a certain activity of the social faculty brought into play by reason1 which is the foundation of this pleasure4 ,thus the sympathetic affections in general are for us a source of pleasure because they give satisfaction to our instinct of activity1 and the sad affections produce this effect with more vividness because they give more satisfaction to this instinct4 ,the mind only reveals all its activity when it is in full possession of its liberty1 when it has a perfect consciousness of its rational nature1 because it is only then that it displays a force superior to all resistance4 ,hence the state of mind which allows most effectually the manifestation of this force1 and awakens most successfully its activity1 is that state which is most suitable to a rational being1 and which best satisfies our instincts of activity3 whence it follows that a greater amount of pleasure must be attached necessarily to this state4 ,now it is the tragic states that place our soul in this state1 and the pleasure found in them is necessarily higher than the charm produced by gay affections1 in the same degree that moral power in us is superior to the power of the senses4 ,points that are only subordinate and partial in a system of final causes may be considered by art independently of that relation with the rest1 and may be converted into principal objects4 ,it is right that in the designs of nature pleasure should only be a mediate end1 or a means2 but for art it is the highest end4 ,it is therefore essentially important for art not to neglect this high enjoyment attaching to the tragic emotion4 ,now1 tragic art1 taking this term in its widest acceptation1 is that among the fine arts which proposes as its principal object the pleasure of pity4 ,art attains its end by the imitation of nature1 by satisfying the conditions which make pleasure possible in reality1 and by combining1 according to a plan traced by the intelligence1 the scattered elements furnished by nature1 so as to attain as a principal end to that which1 for nature1 was only an accessory end4 ,thus tragic art ought to imitate nature in those kinds of actions that are specially adapted to awaken pity4 ,it follows that1 in order to determine generally the system to be followed by tragic art1 it is necessary before all things to know on what conditions in real life the pleasure of the emotion is commonly produced in the surest and the strongest manner2 but it is necessary at the same time to pay attention to the circumstances that restrict or absolutely extinguish this pleasure4 ,after what we have established in our essay ,on the ,cause of the ,pleasure we derive from ,tragic ,objects1 it is known that in every tragic emotion there is an idea of incongruity1 which1 though the emotion may be attended with charm1 must always lead on to the conception of a higher consistency4 ,now it is the relation that these two opposite conceptions mutually bear which determines in an emotion if the prevailing impression shall be pleasurable or the reverse4 ,if the conception of incongruity be more vivid than that of the contrary1 or if the end sacrificed is more important than the end gained1 the prevailing impression will always be displeasure1 whether this be understood objectively of the human race in general1 or only subjectively of certain individuals4 ,if the cause that has produced a misfortune gives us too much displeasure1 our compassion for the victim is diminished thereby4 ,the heart cannot feel simultaneously1 in a high degree1 two absolutely contrary affections4 ,indignation against the person who is the primary cause of the suffering becomes the prevailing affection1 and all other feeling has to yield to it4 ,thus our interest is always enfeebled when the unhappy man whom it would be desirable to pity had cast himself into ruin by a personal and an inexcusable fault2 or if1 being able to save himself1 he did not do so1 either through feebleness of mind or pusillanimity4 ,the interest we take in unhappy ,king ,lear1 ill-treated by two ungrateful daughters1 is sensibly lessened by the circumstance that this aged man1 in his second childhood1 so weakly gave up his crown1 and divided his love among his daughters with so little discernment4 ,in the tragedy of ,kronegk1 ,olinda and ,sophronia1 the most terrible suffering to which we see these martyrs to their faith exposed only excites our pity feebly1 and all their heroism only stirs our admiration moderately1 because madness alone can suggest the act by which ,olinda has placed himself and all his people on the brink of the precipice4 ,our pity is equally lessened when the primary cause of a misfortune1 whose innocent victim ought to inspire us with compassion1 fills our mind with horror4 ,when the tragic poet cannot clear himself of his plot without introducing a wretch1 and when he is reduced to derive the greatness of suffering from the greatness of wickedness1 the supreme beauty of his work must always be seriously injured4 ,iago and ,lady ,macbeth in ,shakspeare1 ,cleopatra in the tragedy of ,rodogune1 or ,franz ,moor in ,the ,robbers1 are so many proofs in support of this assertion4 ,a poet who understands his real interest will not bring about the catastrophe through a malicious will which proposes misfortune as its end2 nor1 and still less1 by want of understanding3 but rather through the imperious force of circumstances4 ,if this catastrophe does not come from moral sources1 but from outward things1 which have no volition and are not subject to any will1 the pity we experience is more pure1 or at all events it is not weakened by any idea of moral incongruity4 ,but then the spectator cannot be spared the disagreeable feeling of an incongruity in the order of nature1 which can alone save in such a case moral propriety4 ,pity is far more excited when it has for its object both him who suffers and him who is the primary cause of the suffering4 ,this can only happen when the latter has neither elicited our contempt nor our hatred1 but when he has been brought against his inclination to become the cause of this misfortune4 ,it is a singular beauty of the ,german play of ,iphigenia that the ,king of ,tauris1 the only obstacle who thwarts the wishes of ,orestes and of his sister1 never loses our esteem1 and that we love him to the end4 ,there is something superior even to this kind of emotion2 this is the case when the cause of the misfortune not only is in no way repugnant to morality1 but only becomes possible through morality1 and when the reciprocal suffering comes simply from the idea that a fellow-creature has been made to suffer4 ,this is the situation of ,chimene and ,rodrigue in ,the ,cid of ,pierre ,corneille1 which is undeniably in point of intrigue the masterpiece of the tragic stage4 ,honor and filial love arm the hand of ,rodrigue against the father of her whom he loves1 and his valor gives him the victory4 ,honor and filial love rouse up against him1 in the person of ,chimene1 the daughter of his victim1 an accuser and a formidable persecutor4 ,both act in opposition to their inclination1 and they tremble with anguish at the thought of the misfortune of the object against which they arm themselves1 in proportion as zeal inspires them for their duty to inflict this misfortune4 ,accordingly both conciliate our esteem in the highest sense1 as they accomplish a moral duty at the cost of inclination2 both inflame our pity in the highest degree1 because they suffer spontaneously for a motive that renders them in the highest degree to be respected4 ,it results from this that our pity is in this case so little modified by any opposite feeling that it burns rather with a double flame2 only the impossibility of reconciling the idea of misfortune with the idea of a morality so deserving of happiness might still disturb our sympathetic pleasure1 and spread a shade of sadness over it4 ,it is besides a great point1 no doubt1 that the discontent given us by this contradiction does not bear upon our moral being1 but is turned aside to a harmless place1 to necessity only2 but this blind subjection to destiny is always afflicting and humiliating for free beings1 who determine themselves4 ,this is the cause that always leaves something to be wished for even in the best ,greek pieces4 ,in all these pieces1 at the bottom of the plot it is always fatality that is appealed to1 and in this there is a knot that cannot be unravelled by our reason1 which wishes to solve everything4 ,but even this knot is untied1 and with it vanishes every shade of displeasure1 at the highest and last step to which man perfected by morality rises1 and at the highest point which is attained by the art which moves the feelings4 ,this happens when the very discontent with destiny becomes effaced1 and is resolved in a presentiment or rather a clear consciousness of a teleological concatenation of things1 of a sublime order1 of a beneficent will4 ,then1 to the pleasure occasioned in us by moral consistency is joined the invigorating idea of the most perfect suitability in the great whole of nature4 ,in this case the thing that seemed to militate against this order1 and that caused us pain1 in a particular case1 is only a spur that stimulates our reason to seek in general laws for the justification of this particular case1 and to solve the problem of this separate discord in the centre of the general harmony4 ,greek art never rose to this supreme serenity of tragic emotion1 because neither the national religion1 nor even the philosophy of the ,greeks1 lighted their step on this advanced road4 ,it was reserved for modern art1 which enjoys the privilege of finding a purer matter in a purer philosophy1 to satisfy also this exalted want1 and thus to display all the moral dignity of art4 ,if we moderns must resign ourselves never to reproduce ,greek art because the philosophic genius of our age1 and modern civilization in general are not favorable to poetry1 these influences are at all events less hurtful to tragic art1 which is based rather on the moral element4 ,perhaps it is in the case of this art only that our civilization repairs the injury that it has caused to art in general4 ,in the same manner as the tragic emotion is weakened by the admixture of conflicting ideas and feelings1 and the charm attaching to it is thus diminished1 so this emotion can also1 on the contrary1 by approaching the excess of direct and personal affection1 become exaggerated to the point where pain carries the day over pleasure4 ,it has been remarked that displeasure1 in the affections1 comes from the relation of their object with our senses1 in the same way as the pleasure felt in them comes from the relation of the affection itself to our moral faculty4 ,this implies1 then1 between our senses and our moral faculty a determined relation1 which decides as regards the relation between pleasure and displeasure in tragic emotions4 ,nor could this relation be modified or overthrown without overthrowing at the same time the feelings of pleasure and displeasure which we find in the emotions1 or even without changing them into their opposites4 ,in the same ratio that the senses are vividly roused in us1 the influence of morality will be proportionately diminished2 and reciprocally1 as the sensuous loses1 morality gains ground4 ,therefore that which in our hearts gives a preponderance to the sensuous faculty1 must of necessity1 by placing restrictions on the moral faculty1 diminish the pleasure that we take in tragic emotions1 a pleasure which emanates exclusively from this moral faculty4 ,in like manner1 all that in our heart impresses an impetus on this latter faculty1 must blunt the stimulus of pain even in direct and personal affections4 ,now our sensuous nature actually acquires this preponderance1 when the ideas of suffering rise to a degree of vividness that no longer allows us to distinguish a sympathetic affection from a personal affection1 or our own proper ,ego from the subject that suffers1--reality1 in short1 from poetry4 ,the sensuous also gains the upper hand when it finds an aliment in the great number of its objects1 and in that dazzling light which an over-excited imagination diffuses over it4 ,on the contrary1 nothing is more fit to reduce the sensuous to its proper bounds than to place alongside it super-sensuous ideas1 moral ideas1 to which reason1 oppressed just before1 clings as to a kind of spiritual props1 to right and raise itself above the fogs of the sensuous to a serener atmosphere4 ,hence the great charm which general truths or moral sentences1 scattered opportunely over dramatic dialogue1 have for all cultivated nations1 and the almost excessive use that the ,greeks made of them4 ,nothing is more agreeable to a moral soul than to have the power1 after a purely passive state that has lasted too long1 of escaping from the subjection of the senses1 and of being recalled to its spontaneous activity1 and restored to the possession of its liberty4 ,these are the remarks ,i had to make respecting the causes that restrict our pity and place an obstacle to our pleasure in tragic emotions4 ,i have next to show on what conditions pity is solicited and the pleasure of the emotion excited in the most infallible and energetic manner4 ,every feeling of pity implies the idea of suffering1 and the degree of pity is regulated according to the degree more or less of vividness1 of truth1 of intensity1 and of duration of this idea4 #ast4 ,the moral faculty is provoked to reaction in proportion to the vividness of ideas in the soul1 which incites it to activity and solicits its sensuous faculty4 ,now the ideas of suffering are conceived in two different manners1 which are not equally favorable to the vividness of the impression4 ,the sufferings that we witness affect us incomparably more than those that we have through a description or a narrative4 ,the former suspend in us the free play of the fancy1 and striking our senses immediately penetrate by the shortest road to our heart4 ,in the narrative1 on the contrary1 the particular is first raised to the general1 and it is from this that the knowledge of the special case is afterwards derived2 accordingly1 merely by this necessary operation of the understanding1 the impression already loses greatly in strength4 ,now a weak impression cannot take complete possession of our mind1 and it will allow other ideas to disturb its action and to dissipate the attention4 ,very frequently1 moreover1 the narrative account transports us from the moral disposition1 in which the acting person is placed1 to the state of mind of the narrator himself1 which breaks up the illusion so necessary for pity4 ,in every case1 when the narrator in person puts himself forward1 a certain stoppage takes place in the action1 and1 as an unavoidable result1 in our sympathetic affection4 ,this is what happens even when the dramatic poet forgets himself in the dialogue1 and puts in the mouth of his dramatic persons reflections that could only enter the mind of a disinterested spectator4 ,it would be difficult to mention a single one of our modern tragedies quite free from this defect2 but the ,french alone have made a rule of it4 ,let us infer1 then1 that the immediate vivid and sensuous presence of the object is necessary to give to the ideas impressed on us by suffering that strength without which the emotion could not rise to a high degree4 #b;d4 ,but we can receive the most vivid impressions of the idea of suffering without1 however1 being led to a remarkable degree of pity1 if these impressions lack truth4 ,it is1 necessary that we should form of suffering an idea of such a nature that we are obliged to share and take part in it4 ,to this end there must be a certain agreement between this suffering and something that we have already in us4 ,in other words1 pity is only possible inasmuch as we can prove or suppose a resemblance between ourselves and the subject that suffers4 ,everywhere where this resemblance makes itself known1 pity is necessary2 where this resemblance is lacking1 pity is impossible4 ,the more visible and the greater is the resemblance1 the more vivid is our pity2 and they mutually slacken in dependence on each other4 ,in order that we may feel the affections of another after him1 all the internal conditions demanded by this affection must be found beforehand in us1 in order that the external cause which1 by meeting with the internal conditions1 has given birth to the affection1 may also produce on us a like effect4 ,it is necessary that1 without doing violence to ourselves1 we should be able to exchange persons with another1 and transport our ,ego by an instantaneous substitution in the state of the subject4 ,now1 how is it possible to feel in us the state of another1 if we have not beforehand recognized ourselves in this other4 ,this resemblance bears on the totality of the constitution of the mind1 in as far as that is necessary and universal4 ,now1 this character of necessity and of universality belongs especially to our moral nature4 ,the faculty of feeling can be determined differently by accidental causes3 our cognitive faculties themselves depend on variable conditions3 the moral faculty only has its principle in itself1 and by that very fact it can best give us a general measure and a certain criterion of this resemblance4 ,thus an idea which we find in accord with our mode of thinking and of feeling1 which offers at once a certain relationship with the train of our own ideas1 which is easily grasped by our heart and our mind1 we call a true idea4 ,if this relationship bears on what is peculiar to our heart1 on the private determinations that modify in us the common fundamentals of humanity1 and which may be withdrawn without altering this general character1 this idea is then simply true for us4 ,if it bears on the general and necessary form that we suppose in the whole species1 the truth of this idea ought to be held to be equal to objective truth4 ,for the ,roman1 the sentence of the first ,brutus and the suicide of ,cato are of subjective truth4 ,the ideas and the feelings that have inspired the actions of these two men are not an immediate consequence of human nature in general1 but the mediate consequence of a human nature determined by particular modifications4 ,to share with them these feelings we must have a ,roman soul1 or at least be capable of assuming for a moment a ,roman soul4 ,it suffices1 on the other hand1 to be a man in general1 to be vividly touched by the heroic sacrifice of ,leonidas1 by the quiet resignation of ,aristides1 by the voluntary death of ,socrates1 and to be moved to tears by the terrible changes in the fortunes of ,darius4 ,we attribute to these kinds of ideas1 in opposition to the preceding ones1 an objective truth because they agree with the nature of all human subjects1 which gives them a character of universality and of necessity as strict as if they were independent of every subjective condition4 ,moreover1 although the subjectively true description is based on accidental determinations1 this is no reason for confounding it with an arbitrary description4 ,after all1 the subjectively true emanates also from the general constitution of the human soul1 modified only in particular directions by special circumstances2 and the two kinds of truth are equally necessary conditions of the human mind4 ,if the resolution of ,cato were in contradiction with the general laws of human nature1 it could not be true1 even subjectively4 ,the only difference is that the ideas of the second kind are enclosed in a narrower sphere of action2 because they imply1 besides the general modes of the human mind1 other special determinations4 ,tragedy can make use of it with a very intense effect1 if it will renounce the extensive effect2 still the unconditionally true1 what is purely human in human relations1 will be always the richest matter for the tragic poet1 because this ground is the only one on which tragedy1 without ceasing to aspire to strength of expression can be certain of the generality of this impression4 #c;d4 ,besides the vividness and the truth of tragic pictures1 there must also be completeness4 ,none of the external data that are necessary to give to the soul the desired movement ought to be omitted in the representation4 ,in order that the spectator1 however ,roman his sentiments may be1 may understand the moral state of ,cato--that he may make his own the high resolution of the republican1 this resolution must have its principle1 not only in the mind of the ,roman1 but also in the circumstances of the action4 ,his external situation as well as his internal situation must be before our eyes in all their consequences and extent3 and we must1 lastly1 have unrolled before us1 without omitting a single link1 the whole chain of determinations to which are attached the high resolution of the ,roman as a necessary consequence4 ,it may be said in general that without this third condition1 even the truth of a painting cannot be recognized2 for the similarity of circumstances1 which ought to be fully evident1 can alone justify our judgment on the similarity of the feelings1 since it is only from the competition of external conditions and of internal conditions that the affective phenomenon results4 ,to decide if we should have acted like ,cato1 we must before all things transport ourselves in thought to the external situation in which ,cato was placed1 and then only we are entitled to place our feelings alongside his1 to pronounce if there is or is not likeness1 and to give a verdict on the truth of these feelings4 ,a complete picture1 as ,i understand it1 is only possible by the concatenation of several separate ideas1 and of several separate feelings1 which are connected together as cause and effect1 and which1 in their sum total1 form one single whole for our cognitive faculty4 ,all these ideas1 in order to affect us closely1 must make an immediate impression on our senses2 and1 as the narrative form always weakens this impression1 they must be produced by a present action4 ,thus1 in order that a tragic picture may be complete1 a whole series is required of particular actions1 rendered sensuous and connected with the tragic action as to one whole4 #dth4 ,it is necessary1 lastly1 that the ideas we receive of suffering should act on us in a durable manner1 to excite in us a high degree of emotion4 ,the affection created in us by the suffering of another is to us a constrained state1 from which we hasten to get free2 and the illusion so necessary for pity easily disappears in this case4 ,it is1 therefore1 a necessity to fasten the mind closely to these ideas1 and not to leave it the freedom to get rid too soon of the illusion4 ,the vividness of sudden ideas and the energy of sudden impressions1 which in rapid succession affect our senses1 would not suffice for this end4 ,for the power of reaction in the mind is manifested in direct proportion to the force with which the receptive faculty is solicited1 and it is manifested to triumph over this impression4 ,now1 the poet who wishes to move us ought not to weaken this independent power in us1 for it is exactly in the struggle between it and the suffering of our sensuous nature that the higher charm of tragic emotions lies4 ,in order that the heart1 in spite of that spontaneous force which reacts against sensuous affections1 may remain attached to the impressions of sufferings1 it is1 therefore1 necessary that these impressions should be cleverly suspended at intervals1 or even interrupted and intercepted by contrary impressions1 to return again with twofold energy and renew more frequently the vividness of the first impression4 ,against the exhaustion and languor that result from habit1 the most effectual remedy is to propose new objects to the senses2 this variety retempers them1 and the gradation of impressions calls forth the innate faculty1 and makes it employ a proportionately stronger resistance4 ,this faculty ought to be incessantly occupied in maintaining its independence against the attacks of the senses1 but it must not triumph before the end1 still less must it succumb in the struggle4 ,otherwise1 in the former case1 suffering1 and1 in the latter1 moral activity is set aside2 while it is the union of these two that can alone elicit emotion4 ,the great secret of the tragic art consists precisely in managing this struggle well2 it is in this that it shows itself in the most brilliant light4 ,for this1 a succession of alternate ideas is required3 therefore a suitable combination is wanted of several particular actions corresponding with these different ideas2 actions round which the principal action and the tragic impression which it is wished to produce through it unroll themselves like the yarn from the distaff1 and end by enlacing our souls in nets1 through which they cannot break4 ,let me be permitted to make use of a simile1 by saying that the artist ought to begin by gathering up with parsimonious care all the separate rays that issue from the object by aid of which he seeks to produce the tragic effect that he has in view1 and these rays1 in his hands1 become a lightning flash1 setting the hearts of all on fire4 ,the tyro casts suddenly and vainly all the thunderbolts of horror and fear into the soul2 the artist1 on the contrary1 advances step by step to his end2 he only strikes with measured strokes1 but he penetrates to the depth of our soul1 precisely because he has only stirred it by degrees4 ,if we now form the proper deductions from the previous investigation1 the following will be the conditions that form bases of the tragic art4 ,it is necessary1 in the first place1 that the object of our pity should belong to our own species--,i mean belong in the full sense of the term and that the action in which it is sought to interest us be a moral action2 that is1 an action comprehended in the field of free-will4 ,it is necessary1 in the second place1 that suffering1 its sources1 its degrees1 should be completely communicated by a series of events chained together4 ,it is necessary1 in the third place1 that the object of the passion be rendered present to our senses1 not in a mediate way and by description1 but immediately and in action4 ,in tragedy art unites all these conditions and satisfies them4 ,according to these principles tragedy might be defined as the poetic imitation of a coherent series of particular events 7forming a complete action73 an imitation which shows us man in a state of suffering1 and which has for its end to excite our pity4 ,i say first that it is the imitation of an action2 and this idea of imitation already distinguishes tragedy from the other kinds of poetry1 which only narrate or describe4 ,in tragedy particular events are presented to our imagination or to our senses at the very time of their accomplishment2 they are present1 we see them immediately1 without the intervention of a third person4 ,the epos1 the romance1 simple narrative1 even in their form1 withdraw action to a distance1 causing the narrator to come between the acting person and the reader4 ,now what is distant and past always weakens1 as we know1 the impressions and the sympathetic affection2 what is present makes them stronger4 ,all narrative forms make of the present something past2 all dramatic form makes of the past a present4 ,secondly1 ,i say that tragedy is the imitation of a succession of events1 of an action4 ,tragedy has not only to represent by imitation the feelings and the affections of tragic persons1 but also the events that have produced these feelings1 and the occasion on which these affections are manifested4 ,this distinguishes it from lyric poetry1 and from its different forms1 which no doubt offer1 like tragedy1 the poetic imitation of certain states of the mind1 but not the poetic imitation of certain actions4 ,an elegy1 a song1 an ode1 can place before our eyes1 by imitation1 the moral state in which the poet actually is--whether he speaks in his own name1 or in that of an ideal person--a state determined by particular circumstances2 and up to this point these lyric forms seem certainly to be incorporated in the idea of tragedy2 but they do not complete that idea1 because they are confined to representing our feelings4 ,there are still more essential differences1 if the end of these lyrical forms and that of tragedy are kept in view4 ,i say1 in the third place1 that tragedy is the imitation of a complete action4 ,a separate event1 though it be ever so tragic1 does not in itself constitute a tragedy4 ,to do this1 several events are required1 based one on the other1 like cause and effect1 and suitably connected so as to form a whole2 without which the truth of the feeling represented1 of the character1 etc4--that is1 their conformity with the nature of our mind1 a conformity which alone determines our sympathy--will not be recognized4 ,if we do not feel that we ourselves in similar circumstances should have experienced the same feelings and acted in the same way1 our pity would not be awakened4 ,it is1 therefore1 important that we should be able to follow in all its concatenation the action that is represented to us1 that we should see it issue from the mind of the agent by a natural gradation1 under the influence and with the concurrence of external circumstances4 ,it is thus that we see spring up1 grow1 and come to maturity under our eyes1 the curiosity of ,oedipus and the jealousy of ,iago4 ,it is also the only way to fill up the great gap that exists between the joy of an innocent soul and the torments of a guilty conscience1 between the proud serenity of the happy man and his terrible catastrophe2 in short1 between the state of calm1 in which the reader is at the beginning1 and the violent agitation he ought to experience at the end4 ,a series of several connected incidents is required to produce in our souls a succession of different movements which arrest the attention1 which1 appealing to all the faculties of our minds1 enliven our instinct of activity when it is exhausted1 and which1 by delaying the satisfaction of this instinct1 do not kindle it the less4 ,against the suffering of sensuous nature the human heart has only recourse to its moral nature as counterpoise4 ,it is1 therefore1 necessary1 in order to stimulate this in a more pressing manner1 for the tragic poet to prolong the torments of sense1 but he must also give a glimpse to the latter of the satisfaction of its wants1 so as to render the victory of the moral sense so much the more difficult and glorious4 ,this twofold end can only be attained by a succession of actions judiciously chosen and combined to this end4 ,in the fourth place1 ,i say that tragedy is the poetic imitation of an action deserving of pity1 and1 therefore1 tragic imitation is opposed to historic imitation4 ,it would only be a historic imitation if it proposed a historic end1 if its principal object were to teach us that a thing has taken place1 and how it took place4 ,on this hypothesis it ought to keep rigorously to historic accuracy1 for it would only attain its end by representing faithfully that which really took place4 ,but tragedy has a poetic end1 that is to say1 it represents an action to move us1 and to charm our souls by the medium of this emotion4 ,if1 therefore1 a matter being given1 tragedy treats it conformably with this poetic end1 which is proper to it1 it becomes1 by that very thing1 free in its imitation4 ,it is a right--nay1 more1 it is an obligation--for tragedy to subject historic truth to the laws of poetry2 and to treat its matter in conformity with requirements of this art4 ,but as it cannot attain its end1 which is emotion1 except on the condition of a perfect conformity with the laws of nature1 tragedy is1 notwithstanding its freedom in regard to history1 strictly subject to the laws of natural truth1 which1 in opposition to the truth of history1 takes the name of poetic truth4 ,it may thus be understood how much poetic truth may lose1 in many cases by a strict observance of historic truth1 and1 reciprocally1 how much it may gain by even a very serious alteration of truth according to history4 ,as the tragic poet1 like poets in general1 is only subject to the laws of poetic truth1 the most conscientious observance of historic truth could never dispense him from his duties as poet1 and could never excuse in him any infraction of poetic truth or lack of interest4 ,it is1 therefore1 betraying very narrow ideas on tragic art1 or rather on poetry in general1 to drag the tragic poet before the tribunal of history1 and to require instruction of the man who by his very title is only bound to move and charm you4 ,even supposing the poet1 by a scrupulous submission to historic truth1 had stripped himself of his privilege of artist1 and that he had tacitly acknowledged in history a jurisdiction over his work1 art retains all her rights to summon him before its bar2 and pieces such as ,the ,death of ,hermann1 ,minona1 ,fust of ,stromberg1 if they could not stand the test on this side1 would only be tragedies of mediocre value1 notwithstanding all the minuteness of costume--of national costume--and of the manners of the time4 ,fifthly1 tragedy is the imitation of an action that lets us see man suffering4 ,the word man is essential to mark the limits of tragedy4 ,only the suffering of a being like ourselves can move our pity4 ,thus1 evil genii1 demons--or even men like them1 without morals--and again pure spirits1 without our weaknesses1 are unfit for tragedy4 ,the very idea of suffering implies a man in the full sense of the term4 ,a pure spirit cannot suffer1 and a man approaching one will never awaken a high degree of sympathy4 ,a purely sensuous being can indeed have terrible suffering2 but without moral sense it is a prey to it1 and a suffering with reason inactive is a disgusting spectacle4 ,the tragedian is right to prefer mixed characters1 and to place the ideal of his hero half way between utter perversity and entire perfection4 ,lastly1 tragedy unites all these requisites to excite pity4 ,many means the tragic poet takes might serve another object2 but he frees himself from all requirements not relating to this end1 and is thereby obliged to direct himself with a view to this supreme object4 ,the final aim to which all the laws tend is called the end of any style of poetry4 ,the means by which it attains this are its form4 ,the end and form are1 therefore1 closely related4 ,the form is determined by the end1 and when the form is well observed the end is generally attained4 ,each kind of poetry having a special end must have a distinguishing form4 ,what it exclusively produces it does in virtue of this special nature it possesses4 ,the end of tragedy is emotion2 its form is the imitation of an action that leads to suffering4 ,many kinds may have the same object as tragedy1 of emotion1 though it be not their principal end4 ,therefore1 what distinguishes tragedy is the relation of its form to its end1 the way in which it attains its end by means of its subject4 ,if the end of tragedy is to awaken sympathy1 and its form is the means of attaining it1 the imitation of an action fit to move must have all that favors sympathy4 ,such is the form of tragedy4 ,the production of a kind of poetry is perfect when the form peculiar to its kind has been used in the best way4 ,thus1 a perfect tragedy is that where the form is best used to awaken sympathy4 ,thus1 the best tragedy is that where the pity excited results more from the treatment of the poet than the theme4 ,such is the ideal of a tragedy4 ,a good number of tragedies1 though fine as poems are bad as dramas1 because they do not seek their end by the best use of tragic form4 ,others1 because they use the form to attain an end different from tragedy4 ,some very popular ones only touch us on account of the subject1 and we are blind enough to make this a merit in the poet4 ,there are others in which we seem to have quite forgotten the object of the poet1 and1 contented with pretty plays of fancy and wit1 we issue with our hearts cold from the theatre4 ,must art1 so holy and venerable1 defend its cause by such champions before such judges8 ,the indulgence of the public only emboldens mediocrity3 it causes genius to blush1 and discourages it4 ,,of ,,the ,,cause ,,of ,,the ,,pleasure ,,we ,,derive ,,from ,,tragic ,,objects4 ,whatever pains some modern aesthetics give themselves to establish1 contrary to general belief1 that the arts of imagination and of feeling have not pleasure for their object1 and to defend them against this degrading accusation1 this belief will not cease3 it reposes upon a solid foundation1 and the fine arts would renounce with a bad grace the beneficent mission which has in all times been assigned to them1 to accept the new employment to which it is generously proposed to raise them4 ,without troubling themselves whether they lower themselves in proposing our pleasure as object1 they become rather proud of the advantages of reaching immediately an aim never attained except mediately in other routes followed by the activity of the human mind4 ,that the aim of nature1 with relation to man1 is the happiness of man1--although he ought of himself1 in his moral conduct1 to take no notice of this aim1-- is what1 ,i think1 cannot be doubted in general by any one who admits that nature has an aim4 ,thus the fine arts have the same aim as nature1 or rather as the ,author of nature1 namely1 to spread pleasure and render people happy4 ,it procures for us in play what at other more austere sources of good to man we extract only with difficulty4 ,it lavishes as a pure gift that which elsewhere is the price of many hard efforts4 ,with what labor1 what application1 do we not pay for the pleasures of the understanding2 with what painful sacrifices the approbation of reason2 with what hard privations the joys of sense6 ,and if we abuse these pleasures1 with what a succession of evils do we expiate excess6 ,art alone supplies an enjoyment which requires no appreciable effort1 which costs no sacrifice1 and which we need not repay with repentance4 ,but who could class the merit of charming in this manner with the poor merit of amusing8 who would venture to deny the former of these two aims of the fine arts solely because they have a tendency higher than the latter4 ,the praiseworthy object of pursuing everywhere moral good as the supreme aim1 which has already brought forth in art so much mediocrity1 has caused also in theory a similar prejudice4 ,to assign to the fine arts a really elevated position1 to conciliate for them the favor of the ,state1 the veneration of all men1 they are pushed beyond their due domain1 and a vocation is imposed upon them contrary to their nature4 ,it is supposed that a great service is awarded to them by substituting for a frivolous aim--that of charming--a moral aim2 and their influence upon morality1 which is so apparent1 necessarily militates against this pretension4 ,it is found illogical that the art which contributes in so great a measure to the development of all that is most elevated in man1 should produce but accessorily this effect1 and make its chief object an aim so vulgar as we imagine pleasure to be4 ,but this apparent contradiction it would be very easy to conciliate if we had a good theory of pleasure1 and a complete system of aesthetic philosophy4 ,it would result from this theory that a free pleasure1 as that which the fine arts procure for us1 rests wholly upon moral conditions1 and all the moral faculties of man are exercised in it4 ,it would further result that this pleasure is an aim which can never be attained but by moral means1 and consequently that art1 to tend and perfectly attain to pleasure1 as to a real aim1 must follow the road of healthy morals4 ,thus it is perfectly indifferent for the dignity of art whether its aim should be a moral aim1 or whether it should reach only through moral means2 for in both cases it has always to do with the morality1 and must be rigorously in unison with the sentiment of duty2 but for the perfection of art1 it is by no means indifferent which of the two should be the aim and which the means4 ,if it is the aim that is moral1 art loses all that by which it is powerful1--,i mean its freedom1 and that which gives it so much influence over us--the charm of pleasure4 ,the play which recreates is changed into serious occupation1 and yet it is precisely in recreating us that art can the better complete the great affair--the moral work4 ,it cannot have a salutary influence upon the morals but in exercising its highest aesthetic action1 and it can only produce the aesthetic effect in its highest degree in fully exercising its liberty4 ,it is certain1 besides1 that all pleasure1 the moment it flows from a moral source1 renders man morally better1 and then the effect in its turn becomes cause4 ,the pleasure we find in what is beautiful1 or touching1 or sublime1 strengthens our moral sentiments1 as the pleasure we find in kindness1 in love1 etc41 strengthens these inclinations4 ,and just as contentment of the mind is the sure lot of the morally excellent man1 so moral excellence willingly accompanies satisfaction of heart4 ,thus the moral efficacy of art is1 not only because it employs moral means in order to charm us1 but also because even the pleasure which it procures us is a means of morality4 ,there are as many means by which art can attain its aim as there are in general sources from which a free pleasure for the mind can flow4 ,i call a free pleasure that which brings into play the spiritual forces--reason and imagination--and which awakens in us a sentiment by the representation of an idea1 in contradistinction to physical or sensuous pleasure1 which places our soul under the dependence of the blind forces of nature1 and where sensation is immediately awakened in us by a physical cause4 ,sensual pleasure is the only one excluded from the domain of the fine arts2 and the talent of exciting this kind of pleasure could never raise itself to the dignity of an art1 except in the case where the sensual impressions are ordered1 reinforced or moderated1 after a plan which is the production of art1 and which is recognized by representation4 ,but1 in this case even1 that alone here can merit the name of art which is the object of a free pleasure--,i mean good taste in the regulation1 which pleases our understanding1 and not physical charms themselves1 which alone flatter our sensibility4 ,the general source of all pleasure1 even of sensual pleasure1 is propriety1 the conformity with the aim4 ,pleasure is sensual when this propriety is manifested by means of some necessary law of nature which has for physical result the sensation of pleasure4 ,thus the movement of the blood1 and of the animal life1 when in conformity with the aim of nature1 produces in certain organs1 or in the entire organism1 corporeal pleasure with all its varieties and all its modes4 ,we feel this conformity by the means of agreeable sensation1 but we arrive at no representation of it1 either clear or confused4 ,pleasure is free when we represent to ourselves the conformability1 and when the sensation that accompanies this representation is agreeable4 ,thus all the representations by which we have notice that there is propriety and harmony between the end and the means1 are for us the sources of free pleasure1 and consequently can be employed to this end by the fine arts4 ,thus1 all the representations can be placed under one of these heads3 the good1 the true1 the perfect1 the beautiful1 the touching1 the sublime4 ,the good especially occupies our reason2 the true and perfect1 our intelligence2 the beautiful interests both the intelligence and the imagination2 the touching and the sublime1 the reason and the imagination4 ,it is true that we also take pleasure in the charm 7,reiz7 or the power called out by action from play1 but art uses charm only to accompany the higher enjoyments which the idea of propriety gives to us4 ,considered in itself the charm or attraction is lost amid the sensations of life1 and art disdains it together with all merely sensual pleasures4 ,we could not establish a classification of the fine arts only upon the difference of the sources from which each of them draws the pleasure which it affords us2 for in the same class of the fine arts many sorts of pleasures may enter1 and often all together4 ,but in as far as a certain sort of pleasure is pursued as a principal aim1 we can make of it1 if not a specific character of a class properly so called1 at least the principle and the tendency of a class in the works of art4 ,thus1 for example1 we could take the arts which1 above all1 satisfy the intelligence and imagination--consequently those which have as chief object the true1 the perfect1 and the beautiful--and unite them under the name of fine arts 7arts of taste1 arts of intelligence72 those1 on the other hand1 which especially occupy the imagination and the reason1 and which1 in consequence1 have for principal object the good1 the sublime1 and the touching1 could be limited in a particular class under the denomination of touching arts 7arts of sentiment1 arts of the heart74 ,without doubt it is impossible to separate absolutely the touching from the beautiful1 but the beautiful can perfectly subsist without the touching4 ,thus1 although we are not authorized to base upon this difference of principle a rigorous classification of the liberal arts1 it can at least serve to determine with more of precision the criterion1 and prevent the confusion in which we are inevitably involved1 when1 drawing up laws of aesthetic things1 we confound two absolutely different domains1 as that of the touching and that of the beautiful4 ,the touching and the sublime resemble in this point1 that both one and the other produce a pleasure by a feeling at first of displeasure1 and that consequently 7pleasure proceeding from suitability1 and displeasure from the contrary7 they give us a feeling of suitability which presupposes an unsuitability4 ,the feeling of the sublime is composed in part of the feeling of our feebleness1 of our impotence to embrace an object2 and1 on the other side1 of the feeling of our moral power--of this superior faculty which fears no obstacle1 no limit1 and which subdues spiritually that even to which our physical forces give way4 ,the object of the sublime thwarts1 then1 our physical power2 and this contrariety 7impropriety7 must necessarily excite a displeasure in us4 ,but it is1 at the same time1 an occasion to recall to our conscience another faculty which is in us--a faculty which is even superior to the objects before which our imagination yields4 ,in consequence1 a sublime object1 precisely because it thwarts the senses1 is suitable with relation to reason1 and it gives to us a joy by means of a higher faculty1 at the same time that it wounds us in an inferior one4 ,the touching1 in its proper sense1 designates this mixed sensation1 into which enters at the same time suffering and the pleasure that we find in suffering4 ,thus we can only feel this kind of emotion in the case of a personal misfortune1 only when the grief that we feel is sufficiently tempered to leave some place for that impression of pleasure that would be felt by a compassionate spectator4 ,the loss of a great good prostrates for the time1 and the remembrance itself of the grief will make us experience emotion after a year4 ,the feeble man is always the prey of his grief2 the hero and the sage1 whatever the misfortune that strikes them1 never experience more than emotion4 ,emotion1 like the sentiment of the sublime1 is composed of two affections--grief and pleasure4 ,there is1 then1 at the bottom a propriety1 here as well as there1 and under this propriety a contradiction4 ,thus it seems that it is a contradiction in nature that man1 who is not born to suffer1 is nevertheless a prey to suffering1 and this contradiction hurts us4 ,but the evil which this contradiction does us is a propriety with regard to our reasonable nature in general1 insomuch as this evil solicits us to act3 it is a propriety also with regard to human society2 consequently1 even displeasure1 which excites in us this contradiction1 ought necessarily to make us experience a sentiment of pleasure1 because this displeasure is a propriety4 ,to determine in an emotion if it is pleasure or displeasure which triumphs1 we must ask ourselves if it is the idea of impropriety or that of propriety which affects us the more deeply4 ,that can depend either on the number of the aims reached or abortive1 or on their connection with the final aim of all4 ,the suffering of the virtuous man moves us more painfully than that of the perverse man1 because in the first case there is contradiction not only to the general destiny of man1 which is happiness1 but also to this other particular principle1 viz41 that virtue renders happy2 whilst in the second case there is contradiction only with regard to the end of man in general4 ,reciprocally1 the happiness of the wicked also offends us much more than the misfortune of the good man1 because we find in it a double contradiction3 in the first place vice itself1 and1 in the second place1 the recompense of vice4 ,there is also this other consideration1 that virtue is much more able to recompense itself than vice1 when it triumphs1 is to punish itself2 and it is precisely for this that the virtuous man in misfortune would much more remain faithful to the cultus of virtue than the perverse man would dream of converting himself in prosperity4 ,but what is above all important in determining in the emotions the relation of pleasure and displeasure1 is to compare the two ends--that which has been fulfilled and that which has been ignored--and to see which is the most considerable4 ,there is no propriety which touches us so nearly as moral propriety1 and no superior pleasure to that which we feel from it4 ,physical propriety could well be a problem1 and a problem forever unsolvable4 ,moral propriety is already demonstrated4 ,it alone is founded upon our reasonable nature and upon internal necessity4 ,it is our nearest interest1 the most considerable1 and1 at the same time1 the most easily recognized1 because it is not determined by any external element but by an internal principle of our reason3 it is the palladium of our liberty4 ,this moral propriety is never more vividly recognized than when it is found in conflict with another propriety1 and still keeps the upper hand2 then only the moral law awakens in full power1 when we find it struggling against all the other forces of nature1 and when all those forces lose in its presence their empire over a human soul4 ,by these words1 the other forces of nature1 we must understand all that is not moral force1 all that is not subject to the supreme legislation of reason3 that is to say1 feelings1 affections1 instincts1 passions1 as well as physical necessity and destiny4 ,the more redoubtable the adversary1 the more glorious the victory2 resistance alone brings out the strength of the force and renders it visible4 ,it follows that the highest degree of moral consciousness can only exist in strife1 and the highest moral pleasure is always accompanied by pain4 ,consequently1 the kind of poetry which secures us a high degree of moral pleasure1 must employ mixed feelings1 and please us through pain or distress1--this is what tragedy does specially2 and her realm embraces all that sacrifices a physical propriety to a moral one2 or one moral propriety to a higher one4 ,it might be possible1 perhaps1 to form a measure of moral pleasure1 from the lowest to the highest degree1 and to determine by this principle of propriety the degree of pain or pleasure experienced4 ,different orders of tragedy might be classified on the same principle1 so as to form a complete exhaustive tabulation of them4 ,thus1 a tragedy being given1 its place could be fixed1 and its genus determined4 ,of this subject more will be said separately in its proper place4 ,a few examples will show how far moral propriety commands physical propriety in our souls4 ,theron and ,amanda are both tied to the stake as martyrs1 and free to choose life or death by the terrible ordeal of fire--they select the latter4 ,what is it which gives such pleasure to us in this scene8 ,their position so conflicting with the smiling destiny they reject1 the reward of misery given to virtue--all here awakens in us the feeling of impropriety3 it ought to fill us with great distress4 ,what is nature1 and what are her ends and laws1 if all this impropriety shows us moral propriety in its full light4 ,we here see the triumph of the moral law1 so sublime an experience for us that we might even hail the calamity which elicits it4 ,for harmony in the world of moral freedom gives us infinitely more pleasure than all the discords in nature give us pain4 ,when ,coriolanus1 obedient to duty as husband1 son1 and citizen1 raises the siege of ,rome1 them almost conquered1 withdrawing his army1 and silencing his vengeance1 he commits a very contradictory act evidently4 ,he loses all the fruit of previous victories1 he runs spontaneously to his ruin3 yet what moral excellence and grandeur he offers6 ,how noble to prefer any impropriety rather than wound moral sense2 to violate natural interests and prudence in order to be in harmony with the higher moral law6 ,every sacrifice of a life is a contradiction1 for life is the condition of all good2 but in the light of morality the sacrifice of life is in a high degree proper1 because life is not great in itself1 but only as a means of accomplishing the moral law4 ,if then the sacrifice of life be the way to do this1 life must go4 ,it is not necessary for me to live1 but it is necessary for ,rome to be saved from famine1 said ,pompey1 when the ,romans embarked for ,africa1 and his friends begged him to defer his departure till the gale was over4 ,but the sufferings of a criminal are as charming to us tragically as those of a virtuous man2 yet here is the idea of moral impropriety4 ,the antagonism of his conduct to moral law1 and the moral imperfection which such conduct presupposes1 ought to fill us with pain4 ,here there is no satisfaction in the morality of his person1 nothing to compensate for his misconduct4 ,yet both supply a valuable object for art2 this phenomenon can easily be made to agree with what has been said4 ,we find pleasure not only in obedience to morality1 but in the punishment given to its infraction4 ,the pain resulting from moral imperfection agrees with its opposite1 the satisfaction at conformity with the law4 ,repentance1 even despair1 have nobleness morally1 and can only exist if an incorruptible sense of justice exists at the bottom of the criminal heart1 and if conscience maintains its ground against self-love4 ,repentance comes by comparing our acts with the moral law1 hence in the moment of repenting the moral law speaks loudly in man4 ,its power must be greater than the gain resulting from the crime as the infraction poisons the enjoyment4 ,now1 a state of mind where duty is sovereign is morally proper1 and therefore a source of moral pleasure4 ,what1 then1 sublimer than the heroic despair that tramples even life underfoot1 because it cannot bear the judgment within8 ,a good man sacrificing his life to conform to the moral law1 or a criminal taking his own life because of the morality he has violated3 in both cases our respect for the moral law is raised to the highest power4 ,if there be any advantage it is in the case of the latter2 for the good man may have been encouraged in his sacrifice by an approving conscience1 thus detracting from his merit4 ,repentance and regret at past crimes show us some of the sublimest pictures of morality in active condition4 ,a man who violates morality comes back to the moral law by repentance4 ,but moral pleasure is sometimes obtained only at the cost of moral pain4 ,thus one duty may clash with another4 ,let us suppose ,coriolanus encamped with a ,roman army before ,antium or ,corioli1 and his mother a ,volscian2 if her prayers move him to desist1 we now no longer admire him4 ,his obedience to his mother would be at strife with a higher duty1 that of a citizen4 ,the governor to whom the alternative is proposed1 either of giving up the town or of seeing his son stabbed1 decides at once on the latter1 his duty as father being beneath that of citizen4 ,at first our heart revolts at this conduct in a father1 but we soon pass to admiration that moral instinct1 even combined with inclination1 could not lead reason astray in the empire where it commands4 ,when ,timoleon of ,corinth puts to death his beloved but ambitious brother1 ,timophanes1 he does it because his idea of duty to his country bids him to do so4 ,the act here inspires horror and repulsion as against nature and the moral sense1 but this feeling is soon succeeded by the highest admiration for his heroic virtue1 pronouncing1 in a tumultuous conflict of emotions1 freely and calmly1 with perfect rectitude4 ,if we differ with ,timoleon about his duty as a republican1 this does not change our view4 ,nay1 in those cases1 where our understanding judges differently1 we see all the more clearly how high we put moral propriety above all other4 ,but the judgments of men on this moral phenomenon are exceedingly various1 and the reason of it is clear4 ,moral sense is common to all men1 but differs in strength4 ,to most men it suffices that an act be partially conformable with the moral law to make them obey it2 and to make them condemn an action it must glaringly violate the law4 ,but to determine the relation of moral duties with the highest principle of morals requires an enlightened intelligence and an emancipated reason4 ,thus an action which to a few will be a supreme propriety1 will seem to the crowd a revolting impropriety1 though both judge morally2 and hence the emotion felt at such actions is by no means uniform4 ,to the mass the sublimest and highest is only exaggeration1 because sublimity is perceived by reason1 and all men have not the same share of it4 ,a vulgar soul is oppressed or overstretched by those sublime ideas1 and the crowd sees dreadful disorder where a thinking mind sees the highest order4 ,this is enough about moral propriety as a principle of tragic emotion1 and the pleasure it elicits4 ,it must be added that there are cases where natural propriety also seems to charm our mind even at the cost of morality4 ,thus we are always pleased by the sequence of machinations of a perverse man1 though his means and end are immoral4 ,such a man deeply interests us1 and we tremble lest his plan fail1 though we ought to wish it to do so4 ,but this fact does not contradict what has been advanced about moral propriety1--and the pleasure resulting from it4 ,propriety1 the reference of means to an end1 is to us1 in all cases1 a source of pleasure2 even disconnected with morality4 ,we experience this pleasure unmixed1 so long as we do not think of any moral end which disallows action before us4 ,animal instincts give us pleasure--as the industry of bees--without reference to morals2 and in like manner human actions are a pleasure to us when we consider in them only the relation of means to ends4 ,but if a moral principle be added to these1 and impropriety be discovered1 if the idea of moral agent comes in1 a deep indignation succeeds our pleasure1 which no intellectual propriety can remedy4 ,we must not call to mind too vividly that ,richard ,,iii41 ,iago1 and ,lovelace are men2 otherwise our sympathy for them infallibly turns into an opposite feeling4 ,but1 as daily experience teaches1 we have the power to direct our attention to different sides of things2 and pleasure1 only possible through this abstraction1 invites us to exercise it1 and to prolong its exercise4 ,yet it is not rare for intelligent perversity to secure our favor by being the means of procuring us the pleasure of moral propriety4 ,the triumph of moral propriety will be great in proportion as the snares set by ,lovelace for the virtue of ,clarissa are formidable1 and as the trials of an innocent victim by a cruel tyrant are severe4 ,it is a pleasure to see the craft of a seducer foiled by the omnipotence of the moral sense4 ,on the other hand1 we reckon as a sort of merit the victory of a malefactor over his moral sense1 because it is the proof of a certain strength of mind and intellectual propriety4 ,yet this propriety in vice can never be the source of a perfect pleasure1 except when it is humiliated by morality4 ,in that case it is an essential part of our pleasure1 because it brings moral sense into stronger relief4 ,the last impression left on us by the author of ,clarissa is a proof of this4 ,the intellectual propriety in the plan of ,lovelace is greatly surpassed by the rational propriety of ,clarissa4 ,this allows us to feel in full the satisfaction caused by both4 ,when the tragic poet has for object to awaken in us the feeling of moral propriety1 and chooses his means skilfully for that end1 he is sure to charm doubly the connoisseur1 by moral and by natural propriety4 ,the first satisfies the heart1 the second the mind4 ,the crowd is impressed through the heart without knowing the cause of the magic impression4 ,but1 on the other hand1 there is a class of connoisseurs on whom that which affects the heart is entirely lost1 and who can only be gained by the appropriateness of the means2 a strange contradiction resulting from over-refined taste1 especially when moral culture remains behind intellectual4 ,this class of connoisseurs seek only the intellectual side in touching and sublime themes4 ,they appreciate this in the justest manner1 but you must beware how you appeal to their heart6 ,the over-culture of the age leads to this shoal1 and nothing becomes the cultivated man so much as to escape by a happy victory this twofold and pernicious influence4 ,of all other ,european nations1 our neighbors1 the ,french1 lean most to this extreme1 and we1 as in all things1 strain every nerve to imitate this model4