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ook: ". #. $riedrich %on Schiller &'()*-'+,)-: Letters .pon /he Aesthetic Education of Man, '(*0 1ntroductor 2ote Schiller3s importance in the intellectual histor of 4erman is ! no means confined to his poetr and dramas. He did nota!le work in histor and philosoph , and in the department of esthetics especiall , he made si5nificant contri!utions, modif in5 and de6elopin5 in important respects the doctrines of 7ant. 1n the letters on 8Esthetic Education,8 which are here printed, he 5i6es the philosophic !asis for his doctrine of art, and indicates clearl and persuasi6el his 6iew of the place of !eaut in human life. 9art 1 Letter 1. B our permission 1 la !efore ou, in a series of letters, the results of m researches upon !eaut and art. 1 am keenl sensi!le of the importance as well as of the charm and di5nit of this undertakin5. 1 shall treat a su!:ect which is closel connected with the !etter portion of our happiness and not far remo6ed from the moral no!ilit of human nature. 1 shall plead this cause of the Beautiful !efore a heart ! which her whole power is felt and e;ercised, and which will take upon itself the most difficult part of m task in an in6esti5ation where one is compelled to appeal as fre<uentl to feelin5s as to principles. /hat which 1 would !e5 of ou as a fa6our, ou 5enerousl impose upon me as a dut = and, when 1 solel consult m inclination, ou impute to me a ser6ice. /he li!ert of action ou prescri!e is rather a necessit for me than a constraint. Little e;ercised in formal rules, 1 shall scarcel incur the risk of sinnin5 a5ainst 5ood taste ! an undue use of them= m ideas, drawn rather from within than from readin5 or from an intimate e;perience with the world, will not disown their ori5in= the would rather incur an reproach than that of a sectarian !ias, and would prefer to succum! ! their innate fee!leness than sustain themsel6es ! !orrowed authorit and forei5n support. 1n truth, 1 will not keep !ack from ou that the assertions which follow rest chiefl upon 7antian principles= !ut if in the course of these researches ou should !e reminded of an special school of philosoph , ascri!e it to m incapacit , not to those principles. 2o= our li!ert of mind shall !e sacred to me= and the facts upon which 1 !uild will !e furnished ! our own sentiments= our own unfettered thou5ht will dictate the laws accordin5 to which we ha6e to proceed. >ith re5ard to the ideas which predominate in the practical part of 7ant3s s stem, philosophers onl disa5ree, whilst mankind, 1 am confident of pro6in5, ha6e ne6er done so. 1f stripped of their technical shape, the will appear as the 6erdict of reason pronounced from time immemorial ! common consent, and as facts of the moral instinct which nature, in her wisdom, has 5i6en to man in order to ser6e as 5uide and teacher until his enli5htened intelli5ence 5i6es him maturit . But this 6er technical shape which renders truth 6isi!le to the understandin5 conceals it from the feelin5s= for, unhappil , understandin5 !e5ins ! destro in5 the o!:ect of the inner sense !efore it can appropriate the o!:ect. Like the chemist, the philosopher finds s nthesis onl ! anal sis, or the spontaneous work of nature onl throu5h the torture of art. /hus, in order to detain the

fleetin5 apparition, he must enchain it in the fetters of rule, dissect its fair proportions into a!stract notions, and preser6e its li6in5 spirit in a fleshless skeleton of words. 1s it surprisin5 that natural feelin5 should not reco5nise itself in such a cop , and if in the report of the anal st the truth appears as parado;? 9ermit me therefore to cra6e our indul5ence if the followin5 researches should remo6e their o!:ect from the sphere of sense while endea6ourin5 to draw it towards the understandin5. /hat which 1 !efore said of moral e;perience can !e applied with 5reater truth to the manifestation of 8the !eautiful.8 1t is the m ster which enchants, and its !ein5 e;tin5uished with the e;tinction of the necessar com!ination of its elements. Letter 11. But 1 mi5ht perhaps make a !etter use of the openin5 ou afford me if 1 were to direct our mind to a loftier theme than that of art. 1t would appear to !e unseasona!le to 5o in search of a code for the aesthetic world, when the moral world offers matter of so much hi5her interest, and when the spirit of philosophical in<uir is so strin5entl challen5ed ! the circumstances of our times to occup itself with the most perfect of all works of art - the esta!lishment and structure of a true political freedom. 1t is unsatisfactor to li6e out of our own a5e and to work for other times. 1t is e<uall incum!ent on us to !e 5ood mem!ers of our own a5e as of our own state or countr . 1f it is concei6ed to !e unseeml and e6en unlawful for a man to se5re5ate himself from the customs and manners of the circle in which he li6es, it would !e inconsistent not to see that it is e<uall his dut to 5rant a proper share of influence to the 6oice of his own epoch, to its taste and its re<uirements, in the operations in which he en5a5es. But the 6oice of our a5e seems ! no means fa6ora!le to art, at all e6ents to that kind of art to which m in<uir is directed. /he course of e6ents has 5i6en a direction to the 5enius of the time that threatens to remo6e it continuall further from the ideal of art. $or art has to lea6e realit , it has to raise itself !odil a!o6e necessit and neediness= for art is the dau5hter of freedom, and it re<uires its prescriptions and rules to !e furnished ! the necessit of spirits and not ! that of matter. But in our da it is necessit , neediness, that pre6ails, and !ends a de5raded humanit under its iron oke. .tilit is the 5reat idol of the time, to which all powers do homa5e and all su!:ects are su!ser6ient. 1n this 5reat !alance of utilit , the spiritual ser6ice of art has no wei5ht, and, depri6ed of all encoura5ement, it 6anishes from the nois %anit $air of our time. /he 6er spirit of philosophical in<uir itself ro!s the ima5ination of one promise after another, and the frontiers of art are narrowed, in proportion as the limits of science are enlar5ed. /he e es of the philosopher as well as of the man of the world are an;iousl turned to the theatre of political e6ents, where it is presumed the 5reat destin of man is to !e pla ed out. 1t would almost seem to !etra a culpa!le indifference to the welfare of societ if we did not share this 5eneral interest. $or this 5reat commerce in social and moral principles is of necessit a matter of the 5reatest concern to e6er human !ein5, on the 5round !oth of its su!:ect and of its results. 1t must accordin5l !e of deepest moment to e6er man to think for himself. 1t would seem that now at len5th a <uestion that formerl was onl settled ! the law of the stron5er is to !e determined ! the calm :ud5ment of the reason, and e6er man who is capa!le of placin5 himself in a central position, and raisin5 his indi6idualit into that of his species, can look upon himself as in possession of this :udicial facult of reason= !ein5 moreo6er, as man and mem!er of the human famil , a part in the case under trial and in6ol6ed more or less in its decisions. 1t would thus appear that this 5reat political process is not onl en5a5ed with his indi6idual case, it has also to pronounce enactments, which he as a rational spirit is capa!le of enunciatin5 and entitled to pronounce.

1t is e6ident that it would ha6e !een most attracti6e to me to in<uire into an o!:ect such as this, to decide such a <uestion in con:unction with a thinker of powerful mind, a man of li!eral s mpathies, and a heart im!ued with a no!le enthusiasm for the weal of humanit . /hou5h so widel separated ! worldl position, it would ha6e !een a deli5htful surprise to ha6e found our unpre:udiced mind arri6in5 at the same result as m own in the field of ideas. 2e6ertheless, 1 think 1 can not onl e;cuse, !ut e6en :ustif ! solid 5rounds, m step in resistin5 this attracti6e purpose and in preferrin5 !eaut to freedom. 1 hope that 1 shall succeed in con6incin5 ou that this matter of art is less forei5n to the needs than to the tastes of our a5e= na , that, to arri6e at a solution e6en in the political pro!lem, the road of aesthetics must !e pursued, !ecause it is throu5h !eaut that we arri6e at freedom. But 1 cannot carr out this proof without m !rin5in5 to our remem!rance the principles ! which the reason is 5uided in political le5islation. Letter 111. Man is not !etter treated ! nature in his first start than her other works are= so lon5 as he is una!le to act for himself as an independent intelli5ence, she acts for him. But the 6er fact that constitutes him a man is, that he does not remain stationar , where nature has placed him, that he can pass with his reason, retracin5 the steps nature had made him anticipate, that he can con6ert the work of necessit into one of free solution, and ele6ate ph sical necessit into a moral law. >hen man is raised from his slum!er in the senses, he feels that he is a man, he sur6e s his surroundin5s, and finds that he is in a state. He was introduced into this state, ! the power of circumstances, !efore he could freel select his own position. But as a moral !ein5 he cannot possi!l rest satisfied with a political condition forced upon him ! necessit , and onl calculated for that condition= and it would !e unfortunate if this did satisf him. 1n man cases man shakes off this !lind law of necessit , ! his free spontaneous action, of which amon5 man others we ha6e an instance, in his enno!lin5 ! !eaut and suppressin5 ! moral influence the powerful impulse implanted in him ! nature in the passion of lo6e. /hus, when arri6ed at maturit , he reco6ers his childhood ! an artificial process, he founds a state of nature in his ideas, not 5i6en him ! an e;perience, !ut esta!lished ! the necessar laws and conditions of his reason, and he attri!utes to this ideal condition an o!:ect, an aim, of which he was not co5nisant in the actual realit of nature. He 5i6es himself a choice of which he was not capa!le !efore, and sets to work :ust as if he were !e5innin5 anew, and were e;chan5in5 his ori5inal state of !onda5e for one of complete independence, doin5 this with complete insi5ht and of his free decision. He is :ustified in re5ardin5 this work of political thraldom as non-e;istin5, thou5h a wild and ar!itrar caprice ma ha6e founded its work 6er artfull = thou5h it ma stri6e to maintain it with 5reat arro5ance and encompass it with a halo of 6eneration. $or the work of !lind powers possesses no authorit , !efore which freedom need !ow, and all must !e made to adapt itself to the hi5hest end which reason has set up in his personalit . 1t is in this wise that a people in a state of manhood is :ustified in e;chan5in5 a condition of thraldom for one of moral freedom. 2ow the term natural condition can !e applied to e6er political !od which owes its esta!lishment ori5inall to forces and not to laws, and such a state contradicts the moral nature of man, !ecause lawfulness can alone ha6e authorit o6er this. At the same time this natural condition is <uite sufficient for the ph sical man, who onl 5i6es himself laws in order to 5et rid of !rute force. Moreo6er, the ph sical man is a realit , and the moral man pro!lematical. /herefore when the reason suppresses the natural condition, as she must if she wishes to su!stitute her own, she wei5hs the real ph sical man a5ainst the pro!lematical moral man, she wei5hs the e;istence of societ a5ainst a possi!le, thou5h morall necessar , ideal of societ . She takes from man somethin5 which he reall possesses, and without which he possesses nothin5, and refers him as a su!stitute to somethin5 that he ou5ht to posses and mi5ht possess= and if

reason had relied too e;clusi6el on him, she mi5ht, in order to secure him a state of humanit in which he is wantin5 and can want without in:ur to his life, ha6e ro!!ed him e6en of the means of animal e;istence which is the first necessar condition of his !ein5 a man. Before he had opportunit to hold firm to the law with his will, reason would ha6e withdrawn from his feet the ladder of nature. /he 5reat point is therefore to reconcile these two considerations: to pre6ent ph sical societ from ceasin5 for a moment in time, while the moral societ is !ein5 formed in the idea= in other words, to pre6ent its e;istence from !ein5 placed in :eopard , for the sake of the moral di5nit of man. >hen the mechanic has to mend a watch, he lets the wheels run out, !ut the li6in5 watchworks of the state ha6e to !e repaired while the act, and a wheel has to !e e;chan5ed for another durin5 its re6olutions. Accordin5l props must !e sou5ht for to support societ and keep it 5oin5 while it is made independent of the natural condition from which it is sou5ht to emancipate it. /his prop is not found in the natural character of man, who, !ein5 selfish and 6iolent, directs his ener5ies rather to the destruction than to the preser6ation of societ . 2or is it found in his moral character, which has to !e formed, which can ne6er !e worked upon or calculated on ! the law5i6er, !ecause it is free and ne6er appears. 1t would seem therefore that another measure must !e adopted. 1t would seem that the ph sical character of the ar!itrar must !e separated from moral freedom= that it is incum!ent to make the former harmonise with the laws and the latter dependent on impressions= it would !e e;pedient to remo6e the former still farther from matter and to !rin5 the latter somewhat more near to it= in short to produce a third character related to !oth the others - the ph sical and the moral - pa6in5 the wa to a transition from the swa of mere force to that of law, without pre6entin5 the proper de6elopment of the moral character, !ut ser6in5 rather as a pled5e in the sensuous sphere of a moralit in the unseen. Letter 1%. /hus much is certain. 1t is onl when a third character, as pre6iousl su55ested, has preponderance that a re6olution in a state accordin5 to moral principles can !e free from in:urious conse<uences= nor can an thin5 else secure its endurance. 1n proposin5 or settin5 up a moral state, the moral law is relied upon as a real power, and free will is drawn into the realm of causes, where all han5s to5ether mutuall with strin5ent necessit and ri5idit . But we know that the condition of the human will alwa s remains contin5ent, and that onl in the A!solute Bein5 ph sical coe;ists with moral necessit . Accordin5l if it is wished to depend on the moral conduct of man as on natural results, this conduct must !ecome nature, and he must !e led ! natural impulse to such a course of action as can onl and in6aria!l ha6e moral results. But the will of man is perfectl free !etween inclination and dut , and no ph sical necessit ou5ht to enter as a sharer in this ma5isterial personalit . 1f therefore he is to retain this power of solution, and et !ecome a relia!le link in the causal concatenation of forces, this can onl !e effected when the operations of !oth these impulses are presented <uite e<uall in the world of appearances. 1t is onl possi!le when, with e6er difference of form, the matter of man3s 6olition remains the same, when all his impulses a5reein5 with his reason are sufficient to ha6e the 6alue of a uni6ersal le5islation. 1t ma !e ur5ed that e6er indi6idual man carries, within himself, at least in his adaptation and destination, a purel ideal man. /he 5reat pro!lem of his e;istence is to !rin5 all the incessant chan5es of his outer life into conformit with the unchan5in5 unit of this ideal. /his pure ideal man, which makes itself known more or less clearl in e6er su!:ect, is represented ! the state, which is the o!:ecti6e and, so to speak, canonical form in which the manifold differences of the su!:ects stri6e to unite. 2ow two wa s present themsel6es to the thou5ht, in which the man of

time can a5ree with the man of idea, and there are also two wa s in which the state can maintain itself in indi6iduals. @ne of these wa s is when the pure ideal man su!dues the empirical man, and the state suppresses the indi6idual, or a5ain when the indi6idual !ecomes the state, and the man of time is enno!led to the man of idea. 1 admit that in a one-sided estimate from the point of 6iew of moralit this difference 6anishes, for the reason is satisfied if her law pre6ails unconditionall . But when the sur6e taken is complete and em!races the whole man &anthropolo5 -, where the form is considered to5ether with the su!stance, and a li6in5 feelin5 has a 6oice, the difference will !ecome far more e6ident. 2o dou!t the reason demands unit , and nature 6ariet , and !oth le5islations take man in hand. /he law of the former is stamped upon him ! an incorrupti!le consciousness, that of the latter ! an ineradica!le feelin5. #onse<uentl education will alwa s appear deficient when the moral feelin5 can onl !e maintained with the sacrifice of what is natural= and a political administration will alwa s !e 6er imperfect when it is onl a!le to !rin5 a!out unit ! suppressin5 6ariet . /he state ou5ht not onl to respect the o!:ecti6e and 5eneric !ut also the su!:ecti6e and specific in indi6iduals= and while diffusin5 the unseen world of morals, it must not depopulate the kin5dom of appearance, the e;ternal world of matter. >hen the mechanical artist places his hand on the formless !lock, to 5i6e it a form accordin5 to his intention, he has not an scruples in doin5 6iolence to it. $or the nature on which he works does not deser6e an respect in itself, and he does not 6alue the whole for its parts, !ut the parts on account of the whole. >hen the child of the fine arts sets his hand to the same !lock, he has no scruples either in doin5 6iolence to it, he onl a6oids showin5 this 6iolence. He does not respect the matter in which he works, and more than the mechanical artist= !ut he seeks ! an apparent consideration for it to decei6e the e e which takes this matter under its protection. /he political and educatin5 artist follows a 6er different course, while makin5 man at once his material and his end. 1n this case the aim or end meets in the material, and it is onl !ecause the whole ser6es the parts that the parts adapt themsel6es to the end. /he political artist has to treat his material man with a 6er different kind of respect from that shown ! the artist of fine art to his work. He must spare man3s peculiarit and personalit , not to produce a decepti6e effect on the senses, !ut o!:ecti6el and out of consideration for his inner !ein5. But the state is an or5anisation which fashions itself throu5h itself and for itself, and for this reason it can onl !e realised when the parts ha6e !een accorded to the idea of the whole. /he state ser6es the purpose of a representati6e, !oth to pure ideal and to o!:ecti6e humanit , in the !reast of its citiAens, accordin5l it will ha6e to o!ser6e the same relation to its citiAens in which the are placed to it, and it will onl respect their su!:ecti6e humanit in the same de5ree that it is enno!led to an o!:ecti6e e;istence. 1f the internal man is one with himself, he will !e a!le to rescue his peculiarit , e6en in the 5reatest 5eneralisation of his conduct, and the state will onl !ecome the e;ponent of his fine instinct, the clearer formula of his internal le5islation. But if the su!:ecti6e man is in conflict with the o!:ecti6e and contradicts him in the character of the people, so that onl the oppression of the former can 5i6e the 6ictor to the latter, then the state will take up the se6ere aspect of the law a5ainst the citiAen, and in order not to fall a sacrifice, it will ha6e to crush under foot such a hostile indi6idualit , without an compromise. 2ow man can !e opposed to himself in a twofold manner: either as a sa6a5e, when his feelin5s rule o6er his principles= or as a !ar!arian, when his principles destro his feelin5s. /he sa6a5e despises art, and acknowled5es nature as his despotic ruler= the !ar!arian lau5hs at nature, and dishonours it, !ut he often proceeds in a more contempti!le wa than the sa6a5e, to !e the sla6e of his senses. /he culti6ated man makes of nature his friend, and honours its friendship, while onl !ridlin5 its caprice.

#onse<uentl , when reason !rin5s her moral unit into ph sical societ , she must not in:ure the manifold in nature. >hen nature stri6es to maintain her manifold character in the moral structure of societ , this must not create an !reach in moral unit = the 6ictorious form is e<uall remote from uniformit and confusion. /herefore, totalit of character must !e found in the people which is capa!le and worth to e;chan5e the state of necessit for that of freedom. Letter %. Boes the present a5e, do passin5 e6ents, present this character? 1 direct m attention at once to the most prominent o!:ect in this 6ast structure. 1t is true that the consideration of opinion is fallen, caprice is unner6ed, and, althou5h still armed with power, recei6es no lon5er an respect. Man has awaked from his lon5 lethar5 and self-deception, and he demands with impressi6e unanimit to !e restored to his imperisha!le ri5hts. But he does not onl demand them= he rises on all sides to seiAe ! force what, in his opinion, has !een un:ustl wrested from him. /he edifice of the natural state is totterin5, its foundations shake, and a ph sical possi!ilit seems at len5th 5ranted to place law on the throne, to honour man at len5th as an end, and to make true freedom the !asis of political union. %ain hopeC /he moral possi!ilit is wantin5, and the 5enerous occasion finds an unsuscepti!le rule. Man paints himself in his actions, and what is the form depicted in the drama of the present time? @n the one hand, he is seen runnin5 wild, on the other in a state of lethar5 = the two e;tremest sta5es of human de5enerac , and !oth seen in one and the same period. 1n the lower lar5er masses, coarse, lawless impulses come to 6iew, !reakin5 loose when the !onds of ci6il order are !urst asunder, and hastenin5 with un!ridled fur to satisf their sa6a5e instinct. @!:ecti6e humanit ma ha6e had cause to complain of the state= et su!:ecti6e man must honour its institutions. @u5ht he to !e !lamed !ecause he lost si5ht of the di5nit of human nature, so lon5 as he was concerned in preser6in5 his e;istence? #an we !lame him that he proceeded to separate ! the force of 5ra6it , to fasten ! the force of cohesion, at a time when there could !e no thou5ht of !uildin5 or raisin5 up? /he e;tinction of the state contains its :ustification. Societ set free, instead of hastenin5 upward into or5anic life, collapses into its elements. @n the other hand, the ci6iliAed classes 5i6e us the still more repulsi6e si5ht of lethar5 , and of a depra6it of character which is the more re6oltin5 !ecause it roots in culture. 1 for5et who of the older or more recent philosophers makes the remark, that what is more no!le is the more re6oltin5 in its destruction. /he remark applies with truth to the world of morals. /he child of nature, when he !reaks loose, !ecomes a madman= !ut the art scholar, when he !reaks loose, !ecomes a de!ased character. /he enli5htenment of the understandin5, on which the more refined classes pride themsel6es with some 5round, shows on the whole so little of an enno!lin5 influence on the mind that it seems rather to confirm corruption ! its ma;ims. >e den nature in her le5itimate field and feel her t rann in the moral sphere, and while resistin5 her impressions, we recei6e our principles from her. >hile the affected decenc of our manners does not e6en 5rant to nature a pardona!le influence in the initial sta5e, our materialistic s stem of morals allows her the castin5 6ote in the last and essential sta5e. E5otism has founded its s stem in the 6er !osom of a refined societ , and without de6elopin5 e6en a socia!le character, we feel all the conta5ions and miseries of societ . >e su!:ect our free :ud5ment to its despotic opinions, our feelin5s to its !iAarre customs, and our will to its seductions. >e onl maintain our caprice a5ainst her hol ri5hts. /he man of the world has his heart contracted ! a proud self-complacenc , while that of the man of nature often !eats in s mpath = and e6er man seeks for nothin5 more than to sa6e his wretched propert from the 5eneral destruction, as it were from some 5reat confla5ration. 1t is concei6ed that the onl wa to find a shelter a5ainst the a!errations

of sentiment is ! completel fore5oin5 its indul5ence, and mocker , which is often a useful chastener of m sticism, slanders in the same !reath the no!lest aspirations. #ulture, far from 5i6in5 us freedom, onl de6elops, as it ad6ances, new necessities= the fetters of the ph sical close more ti5htl around us, so that the fear of loss <uenches e6en the ardent impulse toward impro6ement, and the ma;ims of passi6e o!edience are held to !e the hi5hest wisdom of life. /hus the spirit of the time is seen to wa6er !etween per6ersions and sa6a5ism, !etween what is unnatural and mere nature, !etween superstition and moral un!elief, and it is often nothin5 !ut the e<uili!rium of e6ils that sets !ounds to it. Letter %1. Ha6e 1 5one too far in this portraiture of our times? 1 do not anticipate this stricture, !ut rather another - that 1 ha6e pro6ed too much ! it. Dou will tell me that the picture 1 ha6e presented resem!les the humanit of our da , !ut it also !odies forth all nations en5a5ed in the same de5ree of culture, !ecause all, without e;ception, ha6e fallen off from nature ! the a!use of reason, !efore the can return to it throu5h reason. But if we !estow some serious attention to the character of our times, we shall !e astonished at the contrast !etween the present and the pre6ious form of humanit , especiall that of 4reece. >e are :ustified in claimin5 the reputation of culture and refinement, when contrasted with a purel natural state of societ , !ut not so comparin5 oursel6es with the 4recian nature. $or the latter was com!ined with all the charms of art and with all the di5nit of wisdom, without, howe6er, as with us, !ecomin5 a 6ictim to these influences. /he 4reeks put us to shame not onl ! their simplicit , which is forei5n to our a5e= the are at the same time our ri6als, na , fre<uentl our models, in those 6er points of superiorit from which we seek comfort when re5rettin5 the unnatural character of our manners. >e see that remarka!le people unitin5 at once fulness of form and fulness of su!stance, !oth philosophisin5 and creatin5, !oth tender and ener5etic, unitin5 a outhful fanc to the 6irilit of reason in a 5lorious humanit . At the period of 4reek culture, which was an awakenin5 of the powers of the mind, the senses and the spiria had no distinctl separated propert = no di6ision had et torn them asunder, leadin5 them to partition in a hostile attitude, and to mark off their limits with precision. 9oetr had not et !ecome the ad6ersar of wit, nor had speculation a!used itself ! passin5 into <ui!!lin5. 1n cases of necessit !oth poetr and wit could e;chan5e parts, !ecause the !oth honoured truth onl in their special wa . Howe6er hi5h mi5ht !e the fli5ht of reason, it drew matter in a lo6in5 spirit after it, and, while sharpl and stiffl definin5 it, ne6er mutilated what it touched. 1t is true the 4reek mind displaced humanit , and recast it on a ma5nified scale in the 5lorious circle of its 5ods= !ut it did this not ! dissectin5 human nature, !ut ! 5i6in5 it fresh com!inations, for the whole of human nature was represented in each of the 5ods. How different is the course followed ! us modernsC >e also displace and ma5nif indi6iduals to form the ima5e of the species, !ut we do this in a fra5mentar wa , not ! altered com!inations, so that it is necessar to 5ather up from different indi6iduals the elements that form the species in its totalit . 1t would almost appear as if the powers of mind e;press themsel6es with us in real life or empiricall as separatel as the ps cholo5ist distin5uishes them in the representation. $or we see not onl indi6idual su!:ects, !ut whole classes of men, uphold their capacities onl in part, while the rest of their faculties scarcel show a 5erm of acti6it , as in the case of the stunted 5rowth of plants. 1 do not o6erlook the ad6anta5es to which the present race, re5arded as a unit and in the !alance of the understandin5, ma la claim o6er what is !est in the ancient world= !ut it is o!li5ed to en5a5e in the contest as a compact mass, and measure itself as a whole a5ainst a whole. >ho amon5 the moderns could step forth, man a5ainst man, and stri6e with an Athenian for the priAe of hi5her humanit ?

>hence comes this disad6anta5eous relation of indi6iduals coupled with 5reat ad6anta5es of the race? >h could the indi6idual 4reek !e <ualified as the t pe of his time? and wh can no modern dare to offer himself as such? Because all-unitin5 nature imparted its forms to the 4reek, and an all-di6idin5 understandin5 5i6es our forms to us. 1t was culture itself that 5a6e these wounds to modern humanit . /he inner union of human nature was !roken, and a destructi6e contest di6ided its harmonious forces directl = on the one hand, an enlar5ed e;perience and a more distinct thinkin5 necessitated a sharper separation of the sciences, while on the other hand, the more complicated machiner of states necessitated a stricter sunderin5 of ranks and occupations. 1ntuiti6e and speculati6e understandin5 took up a hostile attitude in opposite fields, whose !orders were 5uarded with :ealous and distrust= and ! limitin5 its operation to a narrow sphere, men ha6e made unto themsel6es a master who is wont not unfre<uentl to end ! su!duin5 and oppressin5 all the other faculties. >hilst on the one hand a lu;uriant ima5ination creates ra6a5es in the plantations that ha6e cost the intelli5ence so much la!our, on the other hand a spirit of a!straction suffocates the fire that mi5ht ha6e warmed the heart and inflamed the ima5ination. /his su!6ersion, commenced ! art and learnin5 in the inner man, was carried out to fullness and finished ! the spirit of inno6ation in 5o6ernment. 1t was, no dou!t, reasona!le to e;pect that the simple or5anisation of the primiti6e repu!lics should sur6i6e the <uaintness of primiti6e manners and of the relations of anti<uit . But, instead of risin5 to a hi5her and no!ler de5ree of animal life, this or5anisation de5enerated into a common and coarse mechanism. /he Aooph te condition of the 4recian states, where each indi6idual en:o ed an independent life, and could, in cases of necessit , !ecome a separate whole and unit in himself, 5a6e wa to an in5enious mechanism, whence, from the splittin5 up into num!erless parts, there results a mechanical life in the com!ination. /hen there was a rupture !etween the state and the church, !etween laws and customs= en:o ment was separated from la!our, the means from the end, the effort from the reward. Man himself eternall chained down to a little fra5ment of the whole, onl forms a kind of fra5ment= ha6in5 nothin5 in his ears !ut the monotonous sound of the perpetuall re6ol6in5 wheel, he ne6er de6elops the harmon of his !ein5= and instead of imprintin5 the seal of humanit on his !ein5, he ends ! !ein5 nothin5 more than the li6in5 impress of the craft to which he de6otes himself, of the science that he culti6ates. /his 6er partial and paltr relation, linkin5 the isolated mem!ers to the whole, does not depend on forms that are 5i6en spontaneousl = for how could a complicated machine, which shuns the li5ht, conaide itself to the free will of man? /his relation is rather dictated, with a ri5orous strictness, ! a formular in which the free intelli5ence of man is chained down. /he dead letter takes the place of a li6in5 meanin5, and a practised memor !ecomes a safer 5uide than 5enius and feelin5. 1f the communit or state measures man ! his function, onl askin5 of its citiAens memor , or the intelli5ence of a craftsman, or mechanical skill, we cannot !e surprised that the other faculties of the mind are ne5lected, for the e;clusi6e culture of the one that !rin5s in honour and profit. Such is the necessar result of an or5anisation that is indifferent a!out character, onl lookin5 to ac<uirements, whilst in other cases it tolerates the thickest darkness, to fa6our a spirit of law and order= it must result if it wishes that indi6iduals in the e;ercise of special aptitudes should 5ain in depth what the are permitted to lose in e;tension. >e are aware, no dou!t, that a powerful 5enius does not shut up its acti6it within the limits of its functions= !ut mediocre talents consume in the craft fallen to their lot the whole of their fee!le ener5 = and if some of their ener5 is reser6ed for matters of preference, without pre:udice to its functions, such a state of thin5s at once !espeaks a spirit soarin5 a!o6e the 6ul5ar. Moreo6er, it is rarel a recommendation in the e e of a state to ha6e a capacit superior to our emplo ment, or one of those no!le

intellectual cra6in5s of a man of talent which contend in ri6alr with the duties of office. /he state is so :ealous of the e;clusi6e possession of its ser6ants that it would prefer - nor can it !e !lamed in this - for functionaries to show their powers with the %enus of # therea rather than the .ranian %enus. 1t is thus that concrete indi6idual life is e;tin5uished, in order that the a!stract whole ma continue its misera!le life, and the state remains for e6er a stran5er to its citiAens, !ecause feelin5 does not disco6er it an where. /he 5o6ernin5 authorities find themsel6es compelled to classif , and there! simplif , the multiplicit of citiAens, and onl to know humanit in a representati6e form and at second hand. Accordin5l the end ! entirel losin5 si5ht of humanit , and ! confoundin5 it with a simple artificial creation of the understandin5, whilst on their part the su!:ect classes cannot help recei6in5 coldl laws that address themsel6es so little to their personalit . At len5th societ , wear of ha6in5 a !urden that the state takes so little trou!le to li5hten, falls to pieces and is !roken up - a destin that has lon5 since attended most European states. /he are dissol6ed in what ma !e called a state of moral nature, in which pu!lic authorit is onl one function more, hated and decei6ed ! those who think it necessar , respected onl ! those who can do without it. /hus compressed !etween two forces, within and without, could humanit follow an other course than that which it has taken? /he speculati6e mind, pursuin5 imprescripti!le 5oods and ri5hts in the sphere of ideas, must needs ha6e !ecome a stran5er to the world of sense, and lose si5ht of matter for the sake of form. @n its part, the world of pu!lic affairs, shut up in a monotonous circle of o!:ects, and e6en there restricted ! formulas, was led to lose si5ht of the life and li!ert of the whole, while !ecomin5 impo6erished at the same time in its own sphere. "ust as the speculati6e mind was tempted to model the real after the intelli5i!le, and to raise the su!:ecti6e laws of its ima5ination into laws constitutin5 the e;istence of thin5s, so the state spirit rushed into the opposite e;treme, wished to make a particular and fra5mentar e;perience the measure of all o!ser6ation, and to appl without e;ception to all affairs the rules of its own particular craft. /he speculati6e mind had necessaril to !ecome the pre of a 6ain su!tlet , the state spirit of a narrow pedantr = for the former was placed too hi5h to see the indi6idual, and the latter too low to sur6e the whole. But the disad6anta5e of this direction of mind was not confined to knowled5e and mental production= it e;tended to action and feelin5. >e know that the sensi!ilit of the mind depends, as to de5ree, on the li6eliness, and for e;tent on the richness of the ima5ination. 2ow the predominance of the facult of anal sis must necessaril depri6e the ima5ination of its warmth and ener5 , and a restricted sphere of o!:ects must diminish its wealth. 1t is for this reason that the a!stract thinker has 6er often a cold heart, !ecause he anal ses impressions, which onl mo6e the mind ! their com!ination or totalit = on the other hand, the man of !usiness, the statesman, has 6er often a narrow heart, !ecause shut up in the narrow circle of his emplo ment his ima5ination can neither e;pand nor adapt itself to another manner of 6iewin5 thin5s. M su!:ect has led me naturall to place in relief the distressin5 tendenc of the character of our own times to show the sources of the e6il, without its !ein5 m pro6ince to point out the compensations offered ! nature. 1 will readil admit to ou that, althou5h this splittin5 up of their !ein5 was unfa6oura!le for indi6iduals, it was the onl road open for the pro5ress of the race. /he point at which we see humanit arri6ed amon5 the 4reeks was undou!tedl a ma;imum= it could neither stop there nor rise hi5her. 1t could not stop there, for the sum of notions ac<uired forced infalli!l the intelli5ence to !reak with feelin5 and intuition, and to lead to clearness of knowled5e. 2or could it rise an hi5her= for it is onl in a determinate measure that clearness can !e reconciled with a certain de5ree of a!undance and of warmth. /he 4reeks

had attained this measure, and to continue their pro5ress in culture, the , as we, were o!li5ed to renounce the totalit of their !ein5, and to follow different and separate roads in order to seek after truth. /here was no other wa to de6elop the manifold aptitudes of man than to !rin5 them in opposition with one another. /his anta5onism of forces is the 5reat instrument of culture, !ut it is onl an instrument= for as lon5 as this anta5onism lasts, man is onl on the road to culture. 1t is onl !ecause these special forces are isolated in man, and !ecause the take on themsel6es to impose an e;clusi6e le5islation, that the enter into strife with the truth of thin5s, and o!li5e common sense, which 5enerall adheres impertur!a!l to e;ternal phaenomena, to di6e into the essence of thin5s. >hile pure understandin5 usurps authorit in the world of sense, and empiricism attempts to su!:ect this intellect to the conditions of e;perience, these two ri6al directions arri6e at the hi5hest possi!le de6elopment, and e;haust the whole e;tent of their sphere. >hile on the one hand ima5ination, ! its t rann , 6entures to destro the order of the world, it forces reason, on the other side, to rise up to the supreme sources of knowled5e, and to in6oke a5ainst this predominance of fanc the help of the law of necessit . B an e;clusi6e spirit in the case of his faculties, the indi6idual is fatall led to error= !ut the species is led to truth. 1t is onl ! 5atherin5 up all the ener5 of our mind in a sin5le focus, and concentratin5 a sin5le force in our !ein5, that we 5i6e in some sort win5s to this isolated force, and that we draw it on artificiall far !e ond the limits that nature seems to ha6e imposed upon it. 1f it !e certain that all human indi6iduals taken to5ether would ne6er ha6e arri6ed, with the 6isual power 5i6en them ! nature, to see a satellite of "upiter, disco6ered ! the telescope of the astronomer, it is :ust as well esta!lished that ne6er would the human understandin5 ha6e produced the anal sis of the infinite, or the criti<ue of pure reason, if in particular !ranches, destined for this mission, reason had not applied itself to special researches, and if, after ha6in5, as it were, freed itself from all matter, it had not ! the most powerful a!straction 5i6en to the spiritual e e of man the force necessar , in order to look into the a!solute. But the <uestion is, if a spirit thus a!sor!ed in pure reason and intuition will !e a!le to emancipate itself from the ri5orous fetters of lo5ic, to take the free action of poetr , and seiAe the indi6idualit of thin5s with a faithful and chaste sense? Here nature imposes e6en on the most uni6ersal 5enius a limit it cannot pass, and truth will make mart rs as lon5 as philosoph will !e reduced to make its principal occupation the search for arms a5ainst errors. But whate6er ma !e the final profit for the totalit of the world, of this distinct and special perfectin5 of the human faculties, it cannot !e denied that this final aim of the uni6erse, which de6otes them to this kind of culture, is a cause of sufferin5, and a kind of malediction for indi6iduals. 1 admit that the e;ercises of the 5 mnasium form athletic !odies= !ut !eaut is onl de6eloped ! the free and e<ual pla of the lim!s. 1n the same wa the tension of the isolated spiritual forces ma make e;traordinar men= !ut it is onl the well-tempered e<uili!rium of these forces that can produce happ and accomplished men. And in what relation should we !e placed with past and future a5es if the perfectin5 of human nature made such a sacrifice indispensa!le? 1n that case we should ha6e !een the sla6es of humanit , we should ha6e consumed our forces in ser6ile work for it durin5 some thousands of ears, and we should ha6e stamped on our humiliated, mutilated nature the shameful !rand of this sla6er - all this in order that future 5enerations, in a happ leisure, mi5ht consecrate themsel6es to the cure of their moral health, and de6elop the whole of human nature ! their free culture. But can it !e true that man has to ne5lect himself for an end whate6er? #an nature snatch from us, for an end whate6er, the perfection which is prescri!ed to us ! the aim of reason? 1t must !e false that the perfectin5 of particular faculties renders the sacrifice of their totalit necessar = and

e6en if the law of nature had imperiousl this tendenc , we must ha6e the power to reform ! a superior art this totalit of our !ein5, which art has destro ed. 9art 11. Letter %11. #an this effect of harmon !e attained ! the state? /hat is not possi!le, for the state, as at present constituted, has 5i6en occasion to e6il, and the state as concei6ed in the idea, instead of !ein5 a!le to esta!lish this more perfect humanit , ou5ht to !e !ased upon it. /hus the researches in which 1 ha6e indul5ed would ha6e !rou5ht me !ack to the same point from which the had called me off for a time. /he present a5e, far from offerin5 us this form of humanit , which we ha6e acknowled5ed as a necessar condition of an impro6ement of the state, shows us rather the diametricall opposite form. 1f therefore the principles 1 ha6e laid down are correct, and if e;perience confirms the picture 1 ha6e traced of the present time, it would !e necessar to <ualif as unseasona!le e6er attempt to effect a similar chan5e in the state, and all hope as chimerical that would !e !ased on such an attempt, until the di6ision of the inner man ceases, and nature has !een sufficientl de6eloped to !ecome herself the instrument of this 5reat chan5e and secure the realit of the political creation of reason. 1n the ph sical creation, nature shows us the road that we ha6e to follow in the moral creation. @nl when the stru55le of elementar forces has ceased in inferior or5anisations, nature rises to the no!le form of the ph sical man. 1n like manner, the conflict of the elements of the moral man and that of !lind instincts must ha6e ceased, and a coarse anta5onism in himself, !efore the attempt can !e haAarded. @n the other hand, the independence of man3s character must !e secured, and his su!mission to despotic forms must ha6e 5i6en place to a suita!le li!ert , !efore the 6ariet in his constitution can !e made su!ordinate to the unit of the ideal. >hen the man of nature still makes such an anarchical a!use of his will, his li!ert ou5ht hardl to !e disclosed to him. And when the man fashioned ! culture makes so little use of his freedom, his free will ou5ht not to !e taken from him. /he concession of li!eral principles !ecomes a treason to social order when it is associated with a force still in fermentation, and increases the alread e;u!erant ener5 of its nature. A5ain, the law of conformit under one le6el !ecomes t rann to the indi6idual when it is allied to a weakness alread holdin5 swa and to natural o!stacles, and when it comes to e;tin5uish the last spark of spontaneit and of ori5inalit . /he tone of the a5e must therefore rise from its profound moral de5radation= on the one hand it must emancipate itself from the !lind ser6ice of nature, and on the other it must re6ert to its simplicit , its truth, and its fruitful sap= a sufficient task for more than a centur . Howe6er, 1 admit readil , more than one special effort ma meet with success, !ut no impro6ement of the whole will result from it, and contradictions in action will !e a continual protest a5ainst the unit of ma;ims. 1t will !e <uite possi!le, then, that in remote corners of the world humanit ma !e honoured in the person of the ne5ro, while in Europe it ma !e de5raded in the person of the thinker. /he old principles will remain, !ut the will adopt the dress of the a5e, and philosoph will lend its name to an oppression that was formerl authorised ! the #hurch. 1n one place, alarmed at the li!ert which in its openin5 efforts alwa s shows itself an enem , it will cast itself into the arms of a con6enient ser6itude. 1n another place, reduced to despair ! a pedantic tutela5e, it will !e dri6en into the sa6a5e license of the state of nature. .surpation will in6oke the weakness of human nature, and insurrection will in6oke its di5nit , till at len5th the 5reat so6erei5n of all human thin5s, !lind force, shall come in and decide, like a 6ul5ar pu5ilist, this pretended contest of principles. Letter %111.

Must philosoph therefore retire from this field, disappointed in its hopes? >hilst in all other directions the dominion of forms is e;tended, must this the most precious of all 5ifts !e a!andoned to a formless chance? Must the contest of !lind forces last eternall in the political world, and is social law ne6er to triumph o6er a hatin5 e5otism? 2ot in the least. 1t is true that reason herself will ne6er attempt directl a stru55le with this !rutal force which resists her arms, and she will !e as far as the son of Saturn in the 31liad3 from descendin5 into the dismal field of !attle, to fi5ht them in person. But she chooses the most deser6in5 amon5 the com!atants, clothes him with di6ine arms as "upiter 5a6e them to his son-in-law, and ! her triumphin5 force she finall decides the 6ictor . Eeason has done all that she could in findin5 the law and promul5atin5 it= it is for the ener5 of the will and the ardour of feelin5 to carr it out. /o issue 6ictoriousl from her contest with force, truth herself must first !ecome a force, and turn one of the instincts of man into her champion in the empire of phaenomena. $or instincts are the onl moti6e forces in the material world. 1f hitherto truth has so little manifested her 6ictorious power, this has not depended on the understandin5, which could not ha6e un6eiled it, !ut on the heart which remained closed to it, and on instinct which did not act with it. >hence, in fact, proceeds this 5eneral swa of pre:udices, this mi5ht of the understandin5 in the midst of the li5ht disseminated ! philosoph and e;perience? /he a5e is enli5htened, that is to sa , that knowled5e, o!tained and 6ul5arised, suffices to set ri5ht at least our practical principles. /he spirit of free in<uir has dissipated the erroneous opinions which lon5 !arred the access to truth, and has undermined the 5round on which fanaticism and deception had erected their throne. Eeason has purified itself from the illusions of the senses and from a mendacious sophistr , and philosoph herself raises her 6oice and e;horts us to return to the !osom of nature, to which she had first made us unfaithful. >hence then is it that we remain still !ar!arians? /here must !e somethin5 in the spirit of man - as it is not in the o!:ects themsel6es - which pre6ents us from recei6in5 the truth, notwithstandin5 the !rilliant li5ht she diffuses, and from acceptin5 her, whate6er ma !e her stren5th for producin5 con6iction. /his somethin5 was percei6ed and e;pressed ! an ancient sa5e in this 6er si5nificant ma;im: sapere aude.' F$ootnote ': Bare to !e wise.G Bare to !e wiseC A spirited coura5e is re<uired to triumph o6er the impediments that the indolence of nature as well as the cowardice of the heart oppose to our instruction. 1t was not without reason that the ancient M thos made Miner6a issue full armed from the head of "upiter, for it is with warfare that this instruction commences. $rom its 6er outset it has to sustain a hard fi5ht a5ainst the senses, which do not like to !e roused from their eas slum!er. /he 5reater part of men are much too e;hausted and ener6ated ! their stru55le with want to !e a!le to en5a5e in a new and se6ere contest with error. Satisfied if the themsel6es can escape from the hard la!our of thou5ht, the willin5l a!andon to others the 5uardianship of their thou5hts. And if it happens that no!ler necessities a5itate their soul, the clin5 with a 5reed faith to the formulas that the state and the church hold in reser6e for such cases. 1f these unhapp men deser6e our compassion, those others deser6e our :ust contempt, who, thou5h set free from those necessities ! more fortunate circumstances, et willin5l !end to their oke. /hese latter persons prefer this twili5ht of o!scure ideas, where the feelin5s ha6e more intensit , and the ima5ination can at will create con6enient chimeras, to the ra s of truth which put to fli5ht the pleasant illusions of their dreams. /he ha6e founded the whole structure of their happiness on these 6er illusions, which ou5ht to !e com!ated and dissipated ! the li5ht of knowled5e, and the would think the were pa in5 too dearl for a truth which !e5ins ! ro!!in5 them of all that has 6alue in their si5ht. 1t

would !e necessar that the should !e alread sa5es to lo6e wisdom: a truth that was felt at once ! him to whom philosoph owes its name.H F$ootnote H: /he 4reek word means, as is known, lo6e of wisdom.G 1t is therefore not 5oin5 far enou5h to sa that the li5ht of the understandin5 onl deser6es respect when it reacts on the character= to a certain e;tent it is from the character that this li5ht proceeds= for the road that terminates in the head must pass throu5h the heart. Accordin5l , the most pressin5 need of the present time is to educate the sensi!ilit , !ecause it is the means, not onl to render efficacious in practice the impro6ement of ideas, !ut to call this impro6ement into e;istence. Letter 1I. But perhaps there is a 6icious circle in our pre6ious reasonin5? /heoretical culture must it seems !rin5 alon5 with it practical culture, and et the latter must !e the condition of the former. All impro6ement in the political sphere must proceed from the enno!lin5 of the character. But, su!:ect to the influence of a social constitution still !ar!arous, how can character !ecome enno!led? 1t would then !e necessar to seek for this end an instrument that the state does not furnish, and to open sources that would ha6e preser6ed themsel6es pure in the midst of political corruption. 1 ha6e now reached the point to which all the considerations tended that ha6e en5a5ed me up to the present time. /his instrument is the art of the !eautiful= these sources are open to us in its immortal models. Art, like science, is emancipated from all that is positi6e, and all that is humanl con6entional= !oth are completel independent of the ar!itrar will of men. /he political le5islator ma place their empire under an interdict, !ut he cannot rei5n there. He can proscri!e the friend of truth, !ut truth su!sists= he can de5rade the artist, !ut he cannot chan5e art. 2o dou!t, nothin5 is more common than to see science and art !end !efore the spirit of the a5e, and creati6e taste recei6e its law from critical taste. >hen the character !ecomes stiff and hardens itself, we see science se6erel keepin5 her limits, and art su!:ect to the harsh restraint of rules= when the character is rela;ed and softened, science endea6ours to please and art to re:oice. $or whole a5es philosophers as well as artists show themsel6es occupied in lettin5 down truth and !eaut to the depths of 6ul5ar humanit . /he themsel6es are swallowed up in it= !ut, thanks to their essential 6i5our and indestructi!le life, the true and the !eautiful make a 6ictorious fi5ht, and issue triumphant from the a! ss. 2o dou!t the artist is the child of his time, !ut unhapp for him if he is its disciple or e6en its fa6ourite. Let a !eneficent deit carr off in 5ood time the sucklin5 from the !reast of its mother, let it nourish him on the milk of a !etter a5e, and suffer him to 5row up and arri6e at 6irilit under the distant sk of 4reece. >hen he has attained manhood, let him come !ack, presentin5 a face stran5e to his own a5e= let him come, not to deli5ht it with his apparition, !ut rather to purif it, terri!le as the son of A5amemnon. He will, indeed, recei6e his matter from the present time, !ut he will !orrow the form from a no!ler time and e6en !e ond all time, from the essential, a!solute, immuta!le unit . /here, issuin5 from the pure ether of its hea6enl nature, flows the source of all !eaut , which was ne6er tainted ! the corruption of 5enerations or of a5es, which roll alon5 far !eneath it in dark eddies. 1ts matter ma !e dishonoured as well as enno!led ! fanc , !ut the e6er chaste form escapes from the caprices of ima5ination. /he Eoman had alread !ent his knee for lon5 ears to the di6init of the emperors, and et the statues of the 5ods stood erect= the temples retained their sanctit for the e e lon5 after the 5ods had !ecome a theme for mocker , and the no!le architecture of the palaces that shielded the infamies of 2ero and of #ommodus were a protest a5ainst them. Humanit has lost its di5nit , !ut art has sa6ed it, and

preser6es it in mar!les full of meanin5= truth continues to li6e in illusion, and the cop will ser6e to reesta!lish the model. 1f the no!ilit of art has sur6i6ed the no!ilit of nature, it also 5oes !efore it like an inspirin5 5enius, formin5 and awakenin5 minds. Before truth causes her triumphant li5ht to penetrate into the depth of the heart, poetr intercepts her ra s, and the summits of humanit shine in a !ri5ht li5ht, while a dark and humid ni5ht still han5s o6er the 6atle s. But how will the artist a6oid the corruption of his time which encloses him on all hands? Let him raise his e es to his own di5nit , and to law= let him not lower them to necessit and fortune. E<uall e;empt from a 6ain acti6it which would imprint its trace on the fu5iti6e moment, and from the dreams of an impatient enthusiasm which applies the measure of the a!solute to the paltr productions of time, let the artist a!andon the real to the understandin5, for that is its proper field. But let the artist endea6our to 5i6e !irth to the ideal ! the union of the possi!le and of the necessar . Let him stamp illusion and truth with the effi5 of this ideal= let him appl it to the pla of his ima5ination and his most serious actions, in short, to all sensuous and spiritual forms= then let him <uietl launch his work into infinite time. But the minds set on fire ! this ideal ha6e not all recei6ed an e<ual share of calm from the creati6e 5enius - that 5reat and patient temper which is re<uired to impress the ideal on the dum! mar!le, or to spread it o6er a pa5e of cold, so!er letters, and then entrust it to the faithful hands of time. /his di6ined instinct, and creati6e force, much too ardent to follow this peaceful walk, often throws itself immediatel on the present, on acti6e life, and stri6es to transform the shapeless matter of the moral world. /he misfortune of his !rothers, of the whole species, appeals loudl to the heart of the man of feelin5= their a!asement appeals still louder= enthusiasm is inflamed, and in souls endowed with ener5 the !urnin5 desire aspires impatientl to action and facts. But has this inno6ator e;amined himself to see if these disorders of the moral world wound his reason, or if the do not rather wound his self-lo6e? 1f he does not determine this point at once, he will find it from the impulsi6eness with which he pursues a prompt and definite end. A pure, moral moti6e has for its end the a!solute= time does not e;ist for it, and the future !ecomes the present to it directl , ! a necessar de6elopment, it has to issue from the present. /o a reason ha6in5 no limits the direction towards an end !ecomes confounded with the accomplishment of this end, and to enter on a course is to ha6e finished it. 1f, then, a oun5 friend of the true and of the !eautiful were to ask me how, notwithstandin5 the resistance of the times, he can satisf the no!le lon5in5 of his heart, 1 should repl : Birect the world on which ou act towards that which is 5ood, and the measured and peaceful course of time will !rin5 a!out the results. Dou ha6e 5i6en it this direction if ! our teachin5 ou raise its thou5hts towards the necessar and the eternal= if, ! our acts or our creations, ou make the necessar and the eternal the o!:ect of our leanin5s. /he structure of error and of all that is ar!itrar must fall, and it has alread fallen, as soon as ou are sure that it is totterin5. But it is important that it should not onl totter in the e;ternal !ut also in the internal man. #herish triumphant truth in the modest sanctuar of our heart= 5i6e it an incarnate form throu5h !eaut , that it ma not onl !e the understandin5 that does homa5e to it, !ut that feelin5 ma lo6in5l 5rasp its appearance. And that ou ma not ! an chance take from e;ternal realit the model which ou ourself ou5ht to furnish, do not 6enture into its dan5erous societ !efore ou are assured in our own heart that ou ha6e a 5ood escort furnished ! ideal nature. Li6e with our a5e, !ut !e not its creation= la!our for our contemporaries, !ut do for them what the need, and not what the praise. >ithout ha6in5 shared their faults, share their punishment with a no!le resi5nation, and !end under the oke which the find is as painful to dispense with as to !ear. B the constanc with which ou will despise their 5ood fortune, ou will pro6e to them that it is not

throu5h cowardice that ou su!mit to their sufferin5s. See them in thou5ht such as the ou5ht to !e when ou must act upon them= !ut see them as the are when ou are tempted to act for them. Seek to owe their suffra5e to their di5nit = !ut to make them happ keep an account of their unworthiness= thus, on the one hand, the no!leness of our heart will kindle theirs, and, on the other, our end will not !e reduced to nothin5ness ! their unworthiness. /he 5ra6it of our principles will keep them off from ou, !ut in pla the will still endure them. /heir taste is purer than their heart, and it is ! their taste ou must la hold of this suspicious fu5iti6e. 1n 6ain will ou com!at their ma;ims, in 6ain will ou condemn their actions= !ut ou can tr our mouldin5 hand on their leisure. Bri6e awa caprice, fri6olit , and coarseness, from their pleasures, and ou will !anish them impercepti!l from their acts, and len5th from their feelin5s. E6er where that ou meet them, surround them with 5reat, no!le, and in5enious forms= multipl around them the s m!ols of perfection, till appearance triumphs o6er realit , and art o6er nature. Letter I. #on6inced ! m precedin5 letters, ou a5ree with me on this point, that man can depart from his destination ! two opposite roads, that our epoch is actuall mo6in5 on these two false roads, and that it has !ecome the pre , in one case, of coarseness, and elsewhere of e;haustion and depra6it . 1t is the !eautiful that must !rin5 it !ack from this twofold departure. But how can the culti6ation of the fine arts remed , at the same time, these opposite defects, and unite in itself two contradictor <ualities? #an it !ind nature in the sa6a5e, and set it free in the !ar!arian? #an it at once ti5hten a sprin5 and loose it, and if it cannot produce this dou!le effect, how will it !e reasona!le to e;pect from it so important a result as the education of man? 2ow, althou5h an infinite !ein5, a di6init could not !ecome &or !e su!:ect to time-, still a tendenc ou5ht to !e named di6ine which has for its infinite end the most characteristic attri!ute of the di6init = the a!solute manifestation of power - the realit of all the possi!le - and the a!solute unit of the manifestation &the necessit of all realit -. 1t cannot !e disputed that man !ears within himself, in his personalit , a predisposition for di6init . /he wa to di6init - if the word 8wa 8 can !e applied to what ne6er leads to its end - is open to him in e6er direction. #onsidered in itself and independentl of all sensuous matter, his personalit is nothin5 !ut the pure 6irtualit of a possi!le infinite manifestation, and so lon5 as there is neither intuition nor feelin5, it is nothin5 more than a form, an empt power. #onsidered in itself, and independentl of all spontaneous acti6it of the mind, sensuousness can onl make a material man= without it, it is a pure form= !ut it cannot in an wa esta!lish a union !etween matter and it. So lon5 as he onl feels, wishes, and acts under the influence of desire, he is nothin5 more than the world, if ! this word we point out onl the formless contents of time. >ithout dou!t, it is onl his sensuousness that makes his stren5th pass into efficacious acts, !ut it is his personalit alone that makes this acti6it his own. /hus, that he ma not onl !e a world, he must 5i6e form to matter, and in order not to !e a mere form, he must 5i6e realit to the 6irtualit that he !ears in him. He 5i6es matter to form ! creatin5 time, and ! opposin5 the immuta!le to chan5e, the di6ersit of the world to the eternal unit of the E5o. He 5i6es a form to matter ! a5ain suppressin5 time, ! maintainin5 permanence in chan5e, and ! placin5 the di6ersit of the world under the unit of the E5o. 2ow from this source issue for man two opposite e;i5encies, the two fundamental laws of sensuous-rational nature. /he first has for its o!:ect a!solute realit = it must make a world of what is onl form, manifest all that in it is onl a force. /he second law has for its o!:ect a!solute formalit = it must destro in him all that is onl world, and carr out harmon in all chan5es. 1n other terms, he must manifest all that is internal, and 5i6e form to all that is e;ternal. #onsidered

in its most loft accomplishment, this twofold la!our !rin5s us !ack to the idea of humanit which was m startin5 point. 9art 111. Letter I11. /his twofold la!our or task, which consists in makin5 the necessar pass into realit in us and in makin5 out of us realit su!:ect to the law of necessit , is ur5ed upon us as a dut ! two opposin5 forces, which are :ustl st led impulsions or instincts, !ecause the impel us to realise their o!:ect. /he first of these impulsions, which 1 shall call the sensuous instinct, issues from the ph sical e;istence of man, or from sensuous nature= and it is this instinct which tends to enclose him in the limits of time and to make of him a material !ein5= 1 do not sa to 5i6e him matter, for to dot that a certain free acti6it of the personalit would !e necessar , which, recei6in5 matter, distin5uishes it from the E5o, or what is permanent. B matter 1 onl understand in this place the chan5e or realit that fills time. #onse<uentl the instinct re<uires that there should !e chan5e, and that time should contain somethin5. /his simpl filled state of time is named sensation, and it is onl in this state that ph sical e;istence manifests itself. As all that is in time is successi6e, it follows ! that fact alone that somethin5 is: all the remainder is e;cluded. >hen one note on an instrument is touched, amon5 all those that it 6irtuall offers, this note alone is real. >hen man is actuall modified, the infinite possi!ilit of all his modifications is limited to this sin5le mode of e;istence. /hus, then, the e;clusi6e action of sensuous impulsion has for its necessar conse<uence the narrowest limitation. 1n this state man is onl a unit of ma5nitude, a complete moment in time= or, to speak more correctl , he is not, for his personalit is suppressed as lon5 as sensation holds swa o6er him and carries time alon5 with it. /his instinct e;tends its domains o6er the entire sphere of the finite in man, and as form is onl re6ealed in matter, and the a!solute ! means of its limits, the total manifestation of human nature is connected on a close anal sis with the sensuous instinct. But thou5h it is onl this instinct that awakens and de6elops what e;ists 6irtuall in man, it is ne6ertheless this 6er instinct which renders his perfection impossi!le. 1t !inds down to the world of sense ! indestructi!le ties the spirit that tends hi5her and it calls !ack to the limits of the present, a!straction which had its free de6elopment in the sphere of the infinite. 2o dou!t, thou5ht can escape it for a moment, and a firm will 6ictoriousl resists its e;i5encies= !ut soon compressed nature resumes her ri5hts to 5i6e an imperious realit to our e;istence, to 5i6e it contents, su!stance, knowled5e, and an aim for our acti6it . /he second impulsion, which ma !e named the formal instinct, issues from the a!solute e;istence of man, or from his rational nature, and tends to set free, and !rin5 harmon into the di6ersit of its manifestations, and to maintain personalit notwithstandin5 all the chan5es of state. As this personalit , !ein5 an a!solute and indi6isi!le unit , can ne6er !e in contradiction with itself, as we are oursel6es for e6er, this impulsion, which tends to maintain personalit , can ne6er e;act in one time an thin5 !ut what it e;acts and re<uires for e6er. 1t therefore decides for alwa s what it decides now, and orders now what it orders for e6er. Hence it em!races the whole series of times, or what comes to the same thin5, it suppresses time and chan5e. 1t wishes the real to !e necessar and eternal, and it wishes the eternal and the necessar to !e real= in other terms, it tends to truth and :ustice. 1f the sensuous instinct onl produces accidents, the formal instinct 5i6es laws, laws for e6er :ud5ment when it is a <uestion of knowled5e, laws for e6er will when it is a <uestion of action. >hether, therefore, we reco5nise an o!:ect or concei6e an o!:ecti6e 6alue to a state of the su!:ect, whether we act in 6irtue of knowled5e or make of the o!:ecti6e the determinin5 principle

of our state= in !oth cases we withdraw this state from the :urisdiction of time, and we attri!ute to it realit for all men and for all time, that this, uni6ersalit and necessit . $eelin5 can onl sa : 8/hat is true for this su!:ect and at this moment,8 and there ma come another moment, another su!:ect, which withdraws the affirmation from the actual feelin5. But when once thou5ht pronounces and sa s: 8/hat is,8 it decides for e6er and e6er, and the 6alidit of its decision is 5uaranteed ! the personalit itself, which defies all chan5e. 1nclination can onl sa : 8/hat is 5ood for our indi6idualit and present necessit =8 !ut the chan5in5 current of affairs will sweep them awa , and what ou ardentl desire toda will form the o!:ect of our a6ersion tomorrow. But when the moral feelin5 sa s: 8/hat ou5ht to !e,8 it decides for e6er. 1f ou confess the truth !ecause it is the truth, and if ou practice :ustice !ecause it is :ustice, ou ha6e made of a particular case the law of all possi!le cases, and treated one moment of our life as eternit . Accordin5l , when the formal impulse holds swa and the pure o!:ect acts in us, the !ein5 attains its hi5hest e;pansion, all !arriers disappear, and from the unit of ma5nitude in which man was enclosed ! a narrow sensuousness, he rises to the unit of idea, which em!races and keeps su!:ect the entire sphere of phaenomena. Burin5 this operation we are no lon5er in time, !ut time is in us with its infinite succession. >e are no lon5er indi6iduals !ut a species= the :ud5ment of all spirits is e;pressed ! our own, and the choice of all hearts is represented ! our own act. Letter I111. @n a first sur6e , nothin5 appears more opposed than these two impulsions= one ha6in5 for its o!:ect chan5e, the other immuta!ilit , and et it is these two notions that e;haust the notion of humanit , and a third fundamental impulsion, holdin5 a medium !etween them, is <uite inconcei6a!le. How then shall we re-esta!lish the unit of human nature, a unit that appears completel destro ed ! this primiti6e and radical opposition? 1 admit these two tendencies are contradictor , !ut it should !e noticed that the are not so in the same o!:ects. But thin5s that do not meet cannot come into collision. 2o dou!t the sensuous impulsion desires chan5e= !ut it does not wish that it should e;tend to personalit and its field, nor that there should !e a chan5e of principles. /he formal impulsion seeks unit and permanence, !ut it does not wish the condition to remain fi;ed with the person, that there should !e identit of feelin5. /herefore these two impulsions are not di6ided ! nature, and if, ne6ertheless, the appear so, it is !ecause the ha6e !ecome di6ided ! trans5ressin5 nature freel , ! i5norin5 themsel6es, and ! confoundin5 their spheres. /he office of culture is to watch o6er them and to secure to each one its proper limits= therefore culture has to 5i6e e<ual :ustice to !oth, and to defend not onl the rational impulsion a5ainst the sensuous, !ut also the latter a5ainst the former. Hence she has to act a twofold part: first, to protect sense a5ainst the attacks of freedom= secondl , to secure personalit a5ainst the power of sensations. @ne of these ends is attained ! the culti6ation of the sensuous, the other ! that of the reason. Since the world is de6eloped in time, or chan5e, the perfection of the facult that places men in relation with the world will necessaril !e the 5reatest possi!le muta!ilit and e;tensi6eness. Since personalit is permanence in chan5e, the perfection of this facult , which must !e opposed to chan5e, will !e the 5reatest possi!le freedom of action &autonom - and intensit . /he more the recepti6it is de6eloped under manifold aspects, the more it is mo6a!le and offers surfaces to phaenomena, the lar5er is the part of the world seiAed upon ! man, and the more 6irtualities he de6elops in himself. A5ain, in proportion as man 5ains stren5th and depth, and depth and reason 5ain in freedom, in that proportion man takes in a lar5er share of the world, and throws out forms outside himself. /herefore his culture will consist, first, in placin5 his recepti6it on contact with the world in the 5reatest num!er of points possi!le, and in raisin5 passi6it to the hi5hest e;ponent on the side of feelin5= secondl , in procurin5 for the determinin5 facult the 5reatest

possi!le amount of independence, in relation to the recepti6e power, and in raisin5 acti6it to the hi5hest de5ree on the side of reason. B the union of these two <ualities man will associate the hi5hest de5ree of self-spontaneit &autonom - and of freedom with the fullest plenitude of e;istence and instead of a!andonin5 himself to the world so as to 5et lost in it, he will rather a!sor! it in himself, with all the infinitude of its phaenomena, and su!:ect it to the unit of his reason. But man can in6ert this relation, and thus fail in attainin5 his destination in two wa s. He can hand o6er to the passi6e force the intensit demanded ! the acti6e force= he can encroach ! material impulsion on the formal impulsion, and con6ert the recepti6e into the determinin5 power. He can attri!ute to the acti6e force the e;tensi6eness !elon5in5 to the passi6e force, he can encroach ! the formal impulsion on the material impulsion, and su!stitute the determinin5 for the recepti6e power. 1n the former case, he will ne6er !e an E5o, a personalit = in the second case, he will ne6er !e a 2on-E5o, and hence in !oth cases he will !e neither the one nor the other, conse<uentl he will !e nothin5. 1n fact, if the sensuous impulsion !ecomes determinin5, if the senses !ecome law-5i6ers, and if the world stifles personalit , he loses as o!:ect what he 5ains in force. 1t ma !e said of man that when he is onl the contents of time, he is not and conse<uentl he has no other contents. His condition is destro ed at the same time as his personalit , !ecause these are two correlati6e ideas, !ecause chan5e presupposes permanence, and a limited realit implies an infinite realit . 1f the formal impulsion !ecomes recepti6e, that is, if thou5ht anticipates sensation, and the person su!stitutes itself in the place of the world, it loses as a su!:ect and autonomous force what it 5ains as o!:ect, !ecause immuta!ilit implies chan5e, and that to manifest itself also a!solute realit re<uires limits. As soon as man is onl form, he has no form, and the personalit 6anishes with the condition. 1n a word, it is onl inasmuch as he is spontaneous, autonomous, that there is realit out of him, that he is also recepti6e= and it is onl inasmuch as he is recepti6e that there is realit in him that he is a thinkin5 force. #onse<uentl these two impulsions re<uire limits, and looked upon as forces, the need temperin5= the former that it ma not encroach on the field of le5islation, the latter that it ma not in6ade the 5round of feelin5. But this temperin5 and moderatin5 the sensuous impulsion ou5ht not to !e the effect of ph sical impotence or of a !luntin5 of sensations, which is alwa s a matter for contempt. 1t must !e a free act, an acti6it of the person, which ! its moral intensit moderates the sensuous intensit , and ! the swa of impressions takes from them in depth what it 5i6es them in surface or !readth. /he character must place limits to temperament, for the senses ha6e onl the ri5ht to lose elements if it !e to the ad6anta5e of the mind. 1n its turn, the temperin5 of the formal impulsion must not result from moral impotence, from a rela;ation of thou5ht and will, which would de5rade humanit . 1t is necessar that the 5lorious source of this second temperin5 should !e the fullness of sensations= it is necessar that sensuousness itself should defend its field with a 6ictorious arm and resist the 6iolence that the in6adin5 acti6it of the mind would do to it. 1n a word, it is necessar that the material impulsion should !e contained in the limits of propriet ! personalit , and the formal impulsion ! recepti6it or nature. Letter I1%. >e ha6e !een !rou5ht to the idea of such a correlation !etween the two impulsions that the action of the one esta!lishes and limits at the same time the action of the other, and that each of them, taken in isolation, does arri6e at its hi5hest manifestation :ust !ecause the other is acti6e. 2o dou!t this correlation of the two impulsions is simpl a pro!lem ad6anced ! reason, and which man will onl !e a!le to sol6e in the perfection of his !ein5. 1t is in the strictest si5nification of the term: the idea of his humanit = accordin5l , it is an infinite to which he can

approach nearer and nearer in the course of time, !ut without e6er reachin5 it. 8He ou5ht not to aim at form to the in:ur of realit , nor to realit to the detriment of the form. He must rather seek the a!solute !ein5 ! means of a determinate !ein5, and the determinate !ein5 ! means of an infinite !ein5. He must set the world !efore him !ecause he is a person, and he must !e a person !ecause he has the world !efore him. He must feel !ecause he has a consciousness of himself, and he must ha6e a consciousness of himself !ecause he feels.8 1t is onl in conformit with this idea that he is a man in the full sense of the word= !ut he cannot !e con6inced of this so lon5 as he 5i6es himself up e;clusi6el to one of these two impulsions, or onl satisfies them one after the other. $or as lon5 as he onl feels, his a!solute personalit and e;istence remain a m ster to him, and as lon5 as he onl thinks, his condition or e;istence in time escapes him. But if there were cases in which he could ha6e at once this twofold e;perience in which he would ha6e the consciousness of his freedom and the feelin5 of his e;istence to5ether, in which he would simultaneousl feel as matter and know himself as spirit, in such cases, and in such onl , would he ha6e a complete intuition of his humanit , and the o!:ect that would procure him this intuition would !e a s m!ol of his accomplished destin , and conse<uentl ser6e to e;press the infinite to him - since this destination can onl !e fulfilled in the fullness of time. 9resumin5 that cases of this kind could present themsel6es in e;perience, the would awake in him a new impulsion, which, precisel !ecause the two other impulsions would co-operate in it, would !e opposed to each of them taken in isolation, and mi5ht, with 5ood 5rounds, !e taken for a new impulsion. /he sensuous impulsion re<uires that there should !e chan5e, that time should ha6e contents= the formal impulsion re<uires that time should !e suppressed, that there should !e no chan5e. #onse<uentl , the impulsion in which !oth of the others act in concert - allow me to call it the instinct of pla , till 1 e;plain the term - the instinct of pla would ha6e as its o!:ect to suppress time in time to conciliate the state of transition or !ecomin5 with the a!solute !ein5, chan5e with identit . /he sensuous instinct wishes to !e determined, it wishes to recei6e an o!:ect= the formal instinct wishes to determine itself, it wishes to produce an o!:ect. /herefore the instinct of pla will endea6or to recei6e as it would itself ha6e produced, and to produce as it aspires to recei6e. /he sensuous impulsion e;cludes from its su!:ect all autonom and freedom= the formal impulsion e;cludes all dependence and passi6it . But the e;clusion of freedom is ph sical necessit = the e;clusion of passi6it is moral necessit . /hus the two impulsions su!due the mind: the former to the laws of nature, the latter to the laws of reason. 1t results from this that the instinct of pla , which unites the dou!le action of the two other instincts, will content the mind at once morall and ph sicall . Hence, as it suppresses all that is contin5ent, it will also suppress all coercion, and will set man free ph sicall and morall . >hen we welcome with effusion some one who deser6es our contempt, we feel painfull that nature is constrained. >hen we ha6e a hostile feelin5 a5ainst a person who commands our esteem, we feel painfull the constraint of reason. But if this person inspires us with interest, and also wins our esteem, the constraint of feelin5 6anishes to5ether with the constraint of reason, and we !e5in to lo6e him, that is to sa , to pla , to take recreation, at once with our inclination and our esteem. Moreo6er, as the sensuous impulsion controls us ph sicall , and the formal impulsion morall , the former makes our formal constitution contin5ent, and the latter makes our material constitution contin5ent, that is to sa , there is contin5ence in the a5reement of our happiness with our perfection, and reciprocall . /he instinct of pla , in which !oth act in concert, will render !oth our formal and our material constitution contin5ent= accordin5l , our perfection and our happiness in like manner. And on the other hand, e;actl !ecause it makes !oth of them contin5ent, and !ecause the contin5ent disappears with necessit , it will suppress this

contin5ence in !oth, and will thus 5i6e form to matter and realit to form. 1n proportion that it will lessen the d namic influence of feelin5 and passion, it will place them in harmon with rational ideas, and ! takin5 from the laws of reason their moral constraint, it will reconcile them with the interest of the senses. Letter I%. 1 approach continuall nearer to the end to which 1 lead ou, ! a path offerin5 few attractions. Be pleased to follow me a few steps further, and a lar5e horiAon will open up to ou and a deli5htful prospect will reward ou for the la!our of the wa . /he o!:ect of the sensuous instinct, e;pressed in a uni6ersal conception, is named Life in the widest acceptation: a conception that e;presses all material e;istence and all that is immediatel present in the senses. /he o!:ect of the formal instinct, e;pressed in a uni6ersal conception, is called shape or form, as well in an e;act as in an ine;act acceptation= a conception that em!races all formal <ualities of thin5s and all relations of the same to the thinkin5 powers. /he o!:ect of the pla instinct, represented in a 5eneral statement, ma therefore !ear the name of li6in5 form= a term that ser6es to descri!e all aesthetic <ualities of phaenomena, and what people st le, in the widest sense, !eaut . Beaut is neither e;tended to the whole field of all li6in5 thin5s nor merel enclosed in this field. A mar!le !lock, thou5h it is and remains lifeless, can ne6ertheless !ecome a li6in5 form ! the architect and sculptor= a man, thou5h he li6es and has a form, is far from !ein5 a li6in5 form on that account. $or this to !e the case, it is necessar that his form should !e life, and that his life should !e a form. As lon5 as we onl think of his form, it is lifeless, a mere a!straction= as lon5 as we onl feel his life, it is without form, a mere impression. 1t is onl when his form li6es in our feelin5, and his life in our understandin5, he is the li6in5 form, and this will e6er where !e the case where we :ud5e him to !e !eautiful. But the 5enesis of !eaut is ! no means declared !ecause we know how to point out the component parts, which in their com!ination produce !eaut . $or to this end it would !e necessar to comprehend that com!ination itself, which continues to def our e;ploration, as well as all mutual operation !etween the finite and the infinite. /he reason, on transcendental 5rounds, makes the followin5 demand: /here shall !e a communion !etween the formal impulse and the material impulse - that is, there shall !e a pla instinct - !ecause it is onl the unit of realit with the form, of the accidental with the necessar , of the passi6e state with freedom, that the conception of humanit is completed. Eeason is o!li5ed to make this demand, !ecause her nature impels her to completeness and to the remo6al of all !ounds= while e6er e;clusi6e acti6it of one or the other impulse lea6es human nature incomplete and places a limit in it. Accordin5l , as soon as reason issues the mandate, 8a humanit shall e;ist,8 it proclaims at the same time the law, 8there shall !e a !eaut .8 E;perience can answer us if there is a !eaut , and we shall know it as soon as she has tau5ht us if a humanit can e;ist. But neither reason nor e;perience can tell us how !eaut can !e, and how a humanit is possi!le. >e know that man is neither e;clusi6el matter nor e;clusi6el spirit. Accordin5l , !eaut , as the consummation of humanit , can neither !e e;clusi6el mere life, as has !een asserted ! sharp-si5hted o!ser6ers, who kept too close to the testimon of e;perience, and to which the taste of the time would 5ladl de5rade it= 2or can !eaut !e merel form, as has !een :ud5ed ! speculati6e sophists, who departed too far from e;perience, and ! philosophic artists, who were led too much ! the necessit of art in e;plainin5 !eaut = it is rather the common o!:ect of !oth impulses, that is, of the pla instinct. /he use of lan5ua5e completel :ustifies this name, as it is wont to <ualif with the word pla what is neither su!:ecti6el nor o!:ecti6el accidental, and et does not impose necessit either e;ternall or internall . As the mind in the intuition of the

!eautiful finds itself in a happ medium !etween law and necessit , it is, !ecause it di6ides itself !etween !oth, emancipated from the pressure of !oth. /he formal impulse and the material impulse are e<uall earnest in their demands, !ecause one relates in its co5nition to thin5s in their realit and the other to their necessit = !ecause in action the first is directed to the preser6ation of life, the second to the preser6ation of di5nit , and therefore !oth to truth and perfection. But life !ecomes more indifferent when di5nit is mi;ed up with it, and dut on lon5er coerces when inclination attracts. 1n like manner the mind takes in the realit of thin5s, material truth, more freel and tran<uill as soon as it encounters formal truth, the law of necessit = nor does the mind find itself strun5 ! a!straction as soon as immediate intuition can accompan it. 1n one word, when the mind comes into communion with ideas, all realit loses its serious 6alue !ecause it !ecomes small= and as it comes in contact with feelin5, necessit parts also with its serious 6alue !ecause it is eas . But perhaps the o!:ection has for some time occurred to ou, 1s not the !eautiful de5raded ! this, that it is made a mere pla ? and is it not reduced to the le6el of fri6olous o!:ects which ha6e for a5es passed under that name? Boes it not contradict the conception of the reason and the di5nit of !eaut , which is ne6ertheless re5arded as an instrument of culture, to confine it to the work of !ein5 a mere pla ? and does it not contradict the empirical conception of pla , which can coe;ist with the e;clusion of all taste, to confine it merel to !eaut ? But what is meant ! a mere pla , when we know that in all conditions of humanit that 6er thin5 is pla , and onl that is pla which makes man complete and de6elops simultaneousl his twofold nature? >hat ou st le limitation, accordin5 to our representation of the matter, accordin5 to m 6iews, which 1 ha6e :ustified ! proofs, 1 name enlar5ement. #onse<uentl , 1 should ha6e said e;actl the re6erse: man is serious onl with the a5reea!le, with the 5ood, and with the perfect, !ut he pla s with !eaut . 1n sa in5 this we must not indeed think of the pla s that are in 6o5ue in real life, and which commonl refer onl to his material state. But in real life we should also seek in 6ain for the !eaut of which we are here speakin5. /he actuall present !eaut is worth of the reall , of the actuall , present pla impulse= !ut ! the ideal of !eaut , which is set up ! the reason, an ideal of the pla -instinct is also presented, which man ou5ht to ha6e !efore his e es in all his pla s. /herefore, no error will e6er !e incurred if we seek the ideal of !eaut on the same road on which we satisf our pla -impulse. >e can immediatel understand wh the ideal form of a %enus, of a "uno, and of an Apollo, is to !e sou5ht not at Eome, !ut in 4reece, if we contrast the 4reek population, deli5htin5 in the !loodless athletic contests of !o;in5, racin5, and intellectual ri6alr at @l mpia, with the Eoman people 5loatin5 o6er the a5on of a 5ladiator. 2ow the reason pronounces that the !eautiful must not onl !e life and form, !ut a li6in5 form, that is, !eaut , inasmuch as it dictates to man the twofold law of a!solute formalit and a!solute realit . Eeason also utters the decision that man shall onl pla with !eaut , and he shall onl pla with !eaut . $or, to speak out once for all, man onl pla s when in the full meanin5 of the word he is a man, and he is onl completel a man when he pla s. /his proposition, which at this moment perhaps appears parado;ical, will recei6e a 5reat and deep meanin5 if we ha6e ad6anced far enou5h to appl it to the twofold seriousness of dut and of destin . 1 promise ou that the whole edifice of aesthetic art and the still more difficult art of life will !e supported ! this principle. But this proposition is onl une;pected in science= lon5 a5o it li6ed and worked in art and in the feelin5 of the 4reeks, her most accomplished masters= onl the remo6ed to @l mpus what ou5ht to ha6e !een preser6ed on earth. 1nfluenced ! the truth of this principle, the effaced from the !row of their 5ods the earnestness and la!our which furrow the cheeks of mortals, and also the hollow lust that smoothes the empt face. /he set free the e6er serene from the chains of e6er purpose, of

e6er dut , of e6er care, and the made indolence and indifference the en6ied condition of the 5odlike race= merel human appellations for the freest and hi5hest mind. As well the material pressure of natural laws as the spiritual pressure of moral laws lost itself in its hi5her idea of necessit , which em!raced at the same time !oth worlds, and out of the union of these two necessities issued true freedom. 1nspired ! this spirit, the 4reeks also effaced from the features of their ideal, to5ether with desire or inclination, all traces of 6olition, or, !etter still, the made !oth unreco5nisa!le, !ecause the knew how to wed them !oth in the closest alliance. 1t is neither charm nor is it di5nit which speaks from the 5lorious face of the "uno Ludo6ici= it is neither of these, for it is !oth at once. >hile the female 5od challen5es our 6eneration, the 5odlike woman at the same times kindles our lo6e. But while in ecstas we 5i6e oursel6es up to the hea6enl !eaut , the hea6enl self-repose awes us !ack. /he whole form rests and dwells in itself - a full complete creation in itself - and as if she were out of space, without ad6ance or resistance= it shows no force contendin5 with force, no openin5 throu5h which time could !reak in. 1rresisti!l carried awa and attracted ! her womanl charm, kept off at a distance ! her 5odl di5nit , we also find oursel6es at len5th in the state of the 5reatest repose, and the result is a wonderful impression, for which the understandin5 has no idea and lan5ua5e no name. Letter I%1. $rom the anta5onism of the two impulsions, and from the association of two opposite principles, we ha6e seen !eaut to result, of which the hi5hest ideal must therefore !e sou5ht in the most perfect union and e<uili!rium possi!le of the realit and of the form. But this e<uili!rium remains alwa s an idea that realit can ne6er completel reach. 1n realit , there will alwa s remain a preponderance of one of these elements o6er the other, and the hi5hest point to which e;perience can reach will consist in an oscillation !etween two principles, when sometimes realit and at others form will ha6e the ad6anta5e. 1deal !eaut is therefore eternall one and indi6isi!le, !ecause there can onl !e one sin5le e<uili!rium= on the contrar , e;perimental !eaut will !e eternall dou!le, !ecause in the oscillation the e<uili!rium ma !e destro ed in two wa s - this side and that. 1 ha6e called attention in the fore5oin5 letters to a fact that can also !e ri5orousl deduced from the considerations that ha6e en5a5ed our attention to the present point= this fact is that an e;citin5 and also a moderatin5 action ma !e e;pected from the !eautiful. /he temperin5 action is directed to keep within proper limits the sensuous and the formal impulsions= the e;citin5, to maintain !oth of them in their full force. But these two modes of action of !eaut ou5ht to !e completel identified in the idea. /he !eautiful ou5ht to temper while uniforml e;citin5 the two natures, and it ou5ht also to e;cite while uniforml moderatin5 them. /his result flows at once from the idea of a correlation, in 6irtue of which the two terms mutuall impl each other, and are the reciprocal condition one of the other, a correlation of which the purest product is !eaut . But e;perience does not offer an e;ample of so perfect a correlation. 1n the field of e;perience it will alwa s happen more or less that e;cess on the one side will 5i6e rise to deficienc on the other, and deficienc will 5i6e !irth to e;cess. 1t results from this that what in the !eau-ideal is onl distinct in the idea, is different in realit in empirical !eaut . /he !eau-ideal, thou5h simple and indi6isi!le, discloses, when 6iewed in two different aspects, on the one hand a propert of 5entleness and 5race, and on the other an ener5etic propert = in e;perience there is a 5entle and 5raceful !eaut , and there is an ener5etic !eaut . 1t is so, and it will !e alwa s so, so lon5 as the a!solute is enclosed in the limits of time, and the ideas of reason ha6e to !e realised in humanit . $or e;ample, the intellectual man has the idea of 6irtue, of truth, and of happiness= !ut the acti6e man will onl practise 6irtues, will onl 5rasp truths, and en:o happ da s. /he !usiness of ph sical and moral education is to !rin5 !ack this multiplicit to unit , to put moralit in the

place of manners, science in the place of knowled5e= the !usiness of aesthetic education is to make out of !eauties the !eautiful. Ener5etic !eaut can no more preser6e a man from a certain residue of sa6a5e 6iolence and harshness than 5raceful !eaut can secure him a5ainst a certain de5ree of effeminac and weakness. As it is the effect of the ener5etic !eaut to ele6ate the mind in a ph sical and moral point of 6iew and to au5ment its momentum, it onl too often happens that the resistance of the temperament and of the character diminishes the aptitude to recei6e impressions, that the delicate part of humanit suffers an oppression which ou5ht onl to affect its 5rosser part, and that this course nature participates in an increase of force that ou5ht onl to turn to the account of free personalit . 1t is for this reason that at the periods when we find much stren5th and a!undant sap in humanit , true 5reatness of thou5ht is seen associated with what is 5i5antic and e;tra6a5ant, and the su!limest feelin5 is found coupled with the most horri!le e;cess of passion. 1t is also the reason wh , in the periods distin5uished for re5ularit and form, nature is as often oppressed as it is 5o6erned, as often outra5ed as it is surpassed. And as the action of 5entle and 5raceful !eaut is to rela; the mind in the moral sphere as well as the ph sical, it happens <uite as easil that the ener5 of feelin5s is e;tin5uished with the 6iolence of desires, and that character shares in the loss of stren5th which ou5ht onl to affect the passions. /his is the reason wh , in a5es assumed to !e refined, it is not a rare thin5 to see 5entleness de5enerate into effeminac , politeness into platitude, correctness into empt sterilit , li!eral wa s into ar!itrar caprice, ease into fri6olit , calm into apath , and, lastl , a most misera!le caricature treads on the heels of the no!lest, the most !eautiful t pe of humanit . 4entle and 5raceful !eaut is therefore a want to the man who suffers the constraint of matter and of forms, for he is mo6ed ! 5randeur and stren5th lon5 !efore he !ecomes sensi!le to harmon and 5race. Ener5etic !eaut is a necessit to the man who is under the indul5ent swa of taste, for in his state of refinement he is onl too much disposed to make li5ht of the stren5th that he retained in his state of rude sa6a5ism. 1 think 1 ha6e now answered and also cleared up the contradiction commonl met in the :ud5ments of men respectin5 the influence of the !eautiful, and the appreciation of aesthetic culture. /his contradiction is e;plained directl we remem!er that there are two sorts of e;perimental !eaut , and that on !oth hands an affirmation is e;tended to the entire race, when it can onl !e pro6ed of one of the species. /his contradiction disappears the moment we distin5uish a twofold want in humanit to which two kinds of !eaut correspond. 1t is therefore pro!a!le that !oth sides would make 5ood their claims if the come to an understandin5 respectin5 the kind of !eaut and the form of humanit that the ha6e in 6iew. #onse<uentl in the se<uel of m researches 1 shall adopt the course that nature herself follows with man considered from the point of 6iew of aesthetics, and settin5 out from the two kinds of !eaut , 1 shall rise to the idea of the 5enus. 1 shall e;amine the effects produced on man ! the 5entle and 5raceful !eaut when its sprin5s of action are in full pla , and also those produced ! ener5etic !eaut when the are rela;ed. 1 shall do this to confound these two sorts of !eaut in the unit of the !eau-ideal, in the same wa that the two opposite forms and modes of !ein5 of humanit are a!sor!ed in the unit of the ideal man. 9art 1%. Letter I%11. >hile we were onl en5a5ed in deducin5 the uni6ersal idea of !eaut from the conception of human nature in 5eneral, we had onl to consider in the latter the limits esta!lished essentiall in itself, and insepara!le from the notion of the finite. >ithout attendin5 to the contin5ent restrictions that human nature ma under5o in the real world of phaenomena, we ha6e drawn the

conception of this nature directl from reason, as a source of e6er necessit , and the ideal of !eaut has !een 5i6en us at the same time with the ideal of humanit . But now we are comin5 down from the re5ion of ideas to the scene of realit , to find man in a determinate state, and conse<uentl in limits which are not deri6ed from the pure conception of humanit , !ut from e;ternal circumstances and from an accidental use of his freedom. But althou5h the limitation of the idea of humanit ma !e 6er manifold in the indi6idual, the contents of this idea suffice to teach us that we can onl depart from it ! two opposite roads. $or if the perfection of man consist in the harmonious ener5 of his sensuous and spiritual forces, he can onl lack this perfection throu5h the want of harmon and the want of ener5 . /hus then, !efore ha6in5 recei6ed on this point the testimon of e;perience, reason suffices to assure us that we shall find the real and conse<uentl limited man in a state of tension or rela;ation, accordin5 as the e;clusi6e acti6it of isolated forces trou!les the harmon of his !ein5, or as the unit of his nature is !ased on the uniform rela;ation of his ph sical and spiritual forces. /hese opposite limits are, as we ha6e now to pro6e, suppressed ! the !eautiful, which reesta!lishes harmon in man when e;cited, and ener5 in man when rela;ed= and which, in this wa , in conformit with the nature of the !eautiful, restores the state of limitation to an a!solute state, and makes of man a whole, complete in himself. /hus the !eautiful ! no means !elies in realit the idea which we ha6e made of it in speculation= onl its action is much less free in it than in the field of theor , where we were a!le to appl it to the pure conception of humanit . 1n man, as e;perience shows him to us, the !eautiful finds a matter, alread dama5ed and resistin5, which ro!s him in ideal perfection of what it communicates to him of its indi6idual mode of !ein5. Accordin5l in realit the !eautiful will alwa s appear a peculiar and limited species, and not as the pure 5enus= in e;cited minds in the state of tension, it will lose its freedom and 6ariet = in rela;ed minds, it will lose its 6i6if in5 force= !ut we, who ha6e !ecome familiar with the true character of this contradictor phaenomenon, cannot !e led astra ! it. >e shall not follow the 5reat crowd of critics, in determinin5 their conception ! separate e;periences, and to make them answera!le for the deficiencies which man shows under their influence. >e know rather that it is man who transfers the imperfections of his indi6idualit o6er to them, who stands perpetuall in the wa of their perfection ! his su!:ecti6e limitation, and lowers their a!solute ideal to two limited forms of phaenomena. 1t was ad6anced that soft !eaut is for an unstrun5 mind, and the ener5etic !eaut for the ti5htl strun5 mind. But 1 appl the term unstrun5 to a man when he is rather under the pressure of feelin5s than under the pressure of conceptions. E6er e;clusi6e swa of one of his two fundamental impulses is for man a state of compulsion and 6iolence, and freedom onl e;ists in the cooperation of his two natures. Accordin5l , the man 5o6erned preponderatel ! feelin5s, or sensuousl unstrun5, is emancipated and set free ! matter. /he soft and 5raceful !eaut , to satisf this twofold pro!lem, must therefore show herself under two aspects - in two distinct forms. $irst as a form in repose, she will tone down sa6a5e life, and pa6e the wa from feelin5 to thou5ht. She will, secondl , as a li6in5 ima5e e<uip the a!stract form with sensuous power, and lead !ack the conception to intuition and law to feelin5. /he former ser6ice she does to the man of nature, the second to the man of art. But !ecause she does not in !oth cases hold complete swa o6er her matter, !ut depends on that which is furnished either ! formless nature or unnatural art, she will in !oth cases !ear traces of her ori5in, and lose herself in one place in material life and in another in mere a!stract form. /o !e a!le to arri6e at a conception how !eaut can !ecome a means to remo6e this twofold rela;ation, we must e;plore its source in the human mind. Accordin5l , make up our mind to

dwell a little lon5er in the re5ion of speculation, in order then to lea6e it for e6er, and to ad6ance with securer footin5 on the 5round of e;perience. Letter I%111. B !eaut the sensuous man is led to form and to thou5ht= ! !eaut the spiritual man is !rou5ht !ack to matter and restored to the world of sense. $rom this statement it would appear to follow that !etween matter and form, !etween passi6it and acti6it , there must !e a middle state, and that !eaut plants us in this state. 1t actuall happens that the 5reater part of mankind reall form this conception of !eaut as soon as the !e5in to reflect on its operations, and all e;perience seems to point to this conclusion. But, on the other hand, nothin5 is more unwarranta!le and contradictor than such a conception, !ecause the a6ersion of matter and form, the passi6e and the acti6e, feelin5 and thou5ht, is eternal and cannot !e mediated in an wa . How can we remo6e this contradiction? Beaut weds the two opposed conditions of feelin5 and thinkin5, and et there is a!solutel no medium !etween them. /he former is immediatel certain throu5h e;perience, the other throu5h the reason. /his is the point to which the whole <uestion of !eaut leads, and if we succeed in settlin5 this point in a satisfactor wa , we ha6e at len5th found the clue that will conduct us throu5h the whole la! rinth of aesthetics. But this re<uires two 6er different operations, which must necessaril support each other in this in<uir . Beaut it is said, weds two conditions with one another which are opposite to each other, and can ne6er !e one. >e must start from this opposition= we must 5rasp and reco5nise them in their entire purit and strictness, so that !oth conditions are separated in the most definite matter= otherwise we mi;, !ut we do not unite them. Secondl , it is usual to sa , !eaut unites those two opposed conditions, and therefore remo6es the opposition. But !ecause !oth conditions remain eternall opposed to one another, the cannot !e united in an other wa than ! !ein5 suppressed. @ur second !usiness is therefore to make this connection perfect, to carr them out with such purit and perfection that !oth conditions disappear entirel in a third one, and no trace of separation remains in the whole, otherwise we se5re5ate, !ut do not unite. All the disputes that ha6e e6er pre6ailed and still pre6ail in the philosophical world respectin5 the conception of !eaut ha6e no other ori5in than their commencin5 without a sufficientl strict distinction, or that is not carried out full to a pure union. /hose philosophers who !lindl follow their feelin5 in reflectin5 on this topic can o!tain no other conception of !eaut , !ecause the distin5uish nothin5 separate in the totalit of the sensuous impression. @ther philosophers, who take the understandin5 as their e;clusi6e 5uide, can ne6er o!tain a conception of !eaut , !ecause the ne6er see an thin5 else in the whole than the parts, and spirit and matter remain eternall separate, e6en in their most perfect unit . /he first fear to suppress !eaut d namicall , that is, as a workin5 power, if the must separate what is united in the feelin5. /he others fear to suppress !eaut lo5icall , that is, as a conception, when the ha6e to hold to5ether what in the understandin5 is separate. /he former wish to think of !eaut as it works= the latter wish it to work as it is thou5ht. Both therefore must miss the truth= the former !ecause the tr to follow infinite nature with their limited thinkin5 power= the others, !ecause the wish to limit unlimited nature accordin5 to their laws of thou5ht. /he first fear to ro! !eaut of its freedom ! a too strict dissection, the others fear to destro the distinctness of the conception ! a too 6iolent union. But the former do not reflect that the freedom in which the 6er properl place the essence of !eaut is not lawlessness, !ut harmon of laws= not caprice, !ut the hi5hest internal necessit . /he others do not remem!er that distinctness, which the with e<ual ri5ht demand from !eaut , does not consist in the e;clusion of certain realities, !ut the a!solute includin5 of all= that is not therefore limitation, !ut infinitude. >e shall a6oid the <uicksands on which !oth ha6e made shipwreck if

we !e5in from the two elements in which !eaut di6ides itself !efore the understandin5, !ut then afterwards rise to a pure aesthetic unit ! which it works on feelin5, and in which !oth those conditions completel disappear. Letter I1I. /wo principal and different states of passi6e and acti6e capacit of !ein5 determined' can !e distin5uished in man= in like manner two states of passi6e and acti6e determination.H /he e;planation of this proposition leads us most readil to our end. F$ootnote ': Bestimm!arkeit.G F$ootnote H: Bestimmun5.G /he condition of the state of man !efore destination or direction is 5i6en him ! the impressions of the senses is an unlimited capacit of !ein5 determined. /he infinite of time and space is 5i6en to his ima5ination for its free use= and, !ecause nothin5 is settled in this kin5dom of the possi!le, and therefore nothin5 is e;cluded from it, this state of a!sence of determination can !e named an empt infiniteness, which must not ! an means !e confounded with an infinite 6oid. 2ow it is necessar that his sensuous nature should !e modified, and that in the indefinite series of possi!le determinations one alone should !ecome real. @ne perception must sprin5 up in it. /hat which, in the pre6ious state of determina!leness, was onl an empt potenc !ecomes now an acti6e force, and recei6es contents= !ut at the same time, as an acti6e force it recei6es a limit, after ha6in5 !een, as a simple power, unlimited. Eealit e;ists now, !ut the infinite has disappeared. /o descri!e a fi5ure in space, we are o!li5ed to limit infinite space= to represent to oursel6es a chan5e in time, we are o!li5ed to di6ide the totalit of time. /hus we onl arri6e at realit ! limitation, at the positi6e, at a real position, ! ne5ation or e;clusion= to determination, ! the suppression of our free determina!leness. But mere e;clusion would ne6er !e5et a realit , nor would a mere sensuous impression e6er 5i6e !irth to a perception, if there were not somethin5 from which it was e;cluded, if ! an a!solute act of the mind the ne5ation were not referred to somethin5 positi6e, and if opposition did not issue out of nonposition. /his act of the mind is st led :ud5in5 or thinkin5, and the result is named thou5ht. Before we determine a place in space, there is no space for us= !ut without a!solute space we could ne6er determine a place. /he same is the case with time. Before we ha6e an instant, there is no time to us= !ut without infinite time - eternit - we should ne6er ha6e a representation of the instant. /hus, therefore, we can onl arri6e at the whole ! the part, to the unlimited throu5h limitation= !ut reciprocall we onl arri6e at the part throu5h the whole, at limitation throu5h the unlimited. 1t follows from this, that when it is affirmed of !eaut that it mediates for man, the transition from feelin5 to thou5ht, this must not !e understood to mean that !eaut can fill up the 5ap that separates feelin5 from thou5ht, the passi6e from the acti6e. /his 5ap is infinite= and, without the interposition of a new and independent facult , it is impossi!le for the 5eneral to issue from the indi6idual, the necessar from the contin5ent. /hou5ht is the immediate act of this a!solute power, which, 1 admit, can onl !e manifested in connection with sensuous impressions, !ut which in this manifestation depends so little on the sensuous that it re6eals itself speciall in an opposition to it. /he spontaneit or autonom with which it acts e;cludes e6er forei5n influence= and it is not in as far as it helps thou5ht - which comprehends a manifest contradiction - !ut onl in as far as it procures for the intellectual faculties the freedom to manifest themsel6es in conformit with their proper laws. 1t does not onl !ecause the !eautiful can !ecome a means of leadin5 man from matter to form, from feelin5 to laws, from a limited e;istence to an a!solute e;istence.

But this assumes that the freedom of the intellectual faculties can !e !alked, which appears contradictor to the conception of an autonomous power. $or a power which onl recei6es the matter of its acti6it from without can onl !e hindered in its action ! the pri6ation of this matter, and conse<uentl ! wa of ne5ation= it is therefore a misconception of the nature of the mind, to attri!ute to the sensuous passions the power of oppressin5 positi6el the freedom of the mind. E;perience does indeed present numerous e;amples where the rational forces appear compressed in proportion to the 6iolence of the sensuous forces. But instead of deducin5 this spiritual weakness from the ener5 of passion, this passionate ener5 must rather !e e;plained ! the weakness of the human mind. $or the sense can onl ha6e a swa such as this o6er man when the mind has spontaneousl ne5lected to assert its power. Det in tr in5 ! these e;planations to remo6e one o!:ection, 1 appear to ha6e e;posed m self to another, and 1 ha6e onl sa6ed the autonom of the mind at the cost of its unit . $or how can the mind deri6e at the same time from itself the principles of inacti6it and of acti6it , if it is not itself di6ided, and if it is not in opposition with itself? Here we must remem!er that we ha6e !efore us, not the infinite mind, !ut the finite. /he finite mind is that which onl !ecomes acti6e throu5h the passi6e, onl arri6es at the a!solute throu5h limitation, and onl acts and fashions in as far as it recei6es matter. Accordin5l , a mind of this nature must associate with the impulse towards form or the a!solute, an impulse towards matter or limitation, conditions without which it could not ha6e the former impulse nor satisf it. How can two such opposite tendencies e;ist to5ether in the same !ein5? /his is a pro!lem that can no dou!t em!arrass the metaph sician, !ut not the transcendental philosopher. /he latter does not presume to e;plain the possi!ilit of thin5s, !ut he is satisfied with 5i6in5 a solid !asis to the knowled5e that makes us understand the possi!ilit of e;perience. And as e;perience would !e e<uall impossi!le without this autonom in the mind, and without the a!solute unit of the mind, it la s down these two conceptions as two conditions of e;perience e<uall necessar without trou!lin5 itself an more to reconcile them. Moreo6er, this immanence of two fundamental impulses does not in an de5ree contradict the a!solute unit of the mind, as soon as the mind itself, - its selfhood - is distin5uished from these two motors. 2o dou!t, these two impulses e;ist and act in it, !ut itself is neither matter nor form, nor the sensuous nor reason, and this is a point that does not seem alwa s to ha6e occurred to those who onl look upon the mind as itself actin5 when its acts are in harmon with reason, and who declare it passi6e when its acts contradict reason. Arri6ed at its de6elopment, each of these two fundamental impulsions tends of necessit and ! its nature to satisf itself= !ut precisel !ecause each of them has a necessar tendenc , and !oth ne6ertheless ha6e an opposite tendenc , this twofold constraint mutuall destro s itself, and the will preser6es an entire freedom !etween them !oth. 1t is therefore the will that conducts itself like a power - as the !asis of realit - with respect to !oth these impulses= !ut neither of them can ! itself act as a power with respect to the other. A 6iolent man, ! his positi6e tendenc to :ustice, which ne6er fails in him, is turned awa from in:ustice= nor can a temptation of pleasure, howe6er stron5, make a stron5 character 6iolate its principles. /here is in man no other power than his will= and death alone, which destro s man, or some pri6ation of self-consciousness, is the onl thin5 that can ro! man of his internal freedom. An e;ternal necessit determines our condition, our e;istence in time, ! means of the sensuous. /he latter is <uite in6oluntar , and directl it is produced in us, we are necessaril passi6e. 1n the same manner an internal necessit awakens our personalit in connection with sensations, and ! its anta5onism with them= for consciousness cannot depend on the will, which presupposes it. /his primiti6e manifestation of personalit is no more a merit to us than its pri6ation is a defect

in us. Eeason can onl !e re<uired in a !ein5 who is self-conscious, for reason is an a!solute consecuti6eness and uni6ersalit of consciousness= !efore this is the case, he is not a man, nor can an act of humanit !e e;pected from him. /he metaph sician can no more e;plain the limitation imposed ! sensation on a free and autonomous mind than the natural philosopher can understand the infinite, which is re6ealed in consciousness in connection with these limits. 2either a!straction nor e;perience can !rin5 us !ack to the source whence issue our ideas of necessit and of uni6ersalit = this source is concealed in its ori5in in time from the o!ser6er, and its super-sensuous ori5in from the researches of the metaph sician. But, to sum up in a few words, consciousness is there, and, to5ether, with its immuta!le unit , the law of all that is for man is esta!lished, as well as of all that is to !e ! man, for his understandin5 and his acti6it . /he ideas of truth and of ri5ht present themsel6es ine6ita!le, incorrupti!le, immeasura!le, e6en in the a5e of sensuousness= and without our !ein5 a!le to sa wh or how, we see eternit in time, the necessar followin5 the contin5ent. 1t is thus that, without an share on the part of the su!:ect, the sensation and self-consciousness arise, and the ori5in of !oth is !e ond our 6olition, as it is out of the sphere of our knowled5e. But as soon as these two faculties ha6e passed into action, and man has 6erified ! e;perience, throu5h the medium of sensation, a determinate e;istence, and throu5h the medium of consciousness, its a!solute e;istence, the two fundamental impulses e;ert their influence directl their o!:ect is 5i6en. /he sensuous impulse is awakened with the e;perience of life - with the !e5innin5 of the indi6idual= the rational impulsion with the e;perience of law - with the !e5innin5 of his personalit = and it is onl when these two inclinations ha6e come into e;istence that the human t pe is realised. .p to that time, e6er thin5 takes place in man accordin5 to the law of necessit = !ut now the hand of nature lets him 5o, and it is for him to keep upri5ht humanit which nature places as a 5erm in his heart. And thus we see that directl the two opposite and fundamental impulses e;ercise their influence in him, !oth lose their constraint, and the autonom of two necessities 5i6es !irth to freedom. Letter II. /hat freedom is an acti6e and not a passi6e principle results from its 6er conception= !ut that li!ert itself should !e an effect of nature &takin5 this word in its widest sense-, and not the work of man, and therefore that it can !e fa6oured or thwarted ! natural means, is the necessar conse<uence of that which precedes. 1t !e5ins onl when man is complete, and when these two fundamental impulsions ha6e !een de6eloped. 1t will then !e wantin5 whilst he is incomplete, and while one of these impulsions is e;cluded, and it will !e re-esta!lished ! all that 5i6es !ack to man his inte5rit . /hus it is possi!le, !oth with re5ard to the entire species as to the indi6idual, to remark the moment when man is et incomplete, and when one of the two e;clusions acts solel in him. >e know that man commences ! life simpl , to end ! form= that he is more of an indi6idual than a person, and that he starts from the limited or finite to approach the infinite. /he sensuous impulsion comes into pla therefore !efore the rational impulsion, !ecause sensation precedes consciousness= and in this priorit of sensuous impulsion we find the ke of the histor of the whole of human li!ert . /here is a moment, in fact, when the instinct of life, not et opposed to the instinct of form, acts as nature and as necessit = when the sensuous is a power !ecause man has not !e5un= for e6en in man there can !e no other power than his will. But when man shall ha6e attained to the power of thou5ht, reason, on the contrar , will !e a power, and moral or lo5ical necessit will take the place of ph sical necessit . Sensuous power must then !e annihilated !efore the law which must 5o6ern it can !e esta!lished. 1t is not enou5h that somethin5 shall !e5in which as et was not=

pre6iousl somethin5 must end which had !e5un. Man cannot pass immediatel from sensuousness to thou5ht. He must step !ackwards, for it is onl when one determination is suppressed that the contrar determination can take place. #onse<uentl , in order to e;chan5e passi6e a5ainst acti6e li!ert , a passi6e determination a5ainst an acti6e, he must !e momentaril free from all determination, and must tra6erse a state of pure determina!ilit . He has then to return in some de5ree to that state of pure ne5ati6e indetermination in which he was !efore his senses were affected ! an thin5. But this state was a!solutel empt of all contents, and now the <uestion is to reconcile an e<ual determination and a determina!ilit e<uall without limit, with the 5reatest possi!le fullness, !ecause from this situation somethin5 positi6e must immediatel follow. /he determination which man recei6ed ! sensation must !e preser6ed, !ecause he should not lose the realit = !ut at the same time, in so far as finite, it should !e suppressed, !ecause a determina!ilit without limit would take place. /he pro!lem consists then in annihilatin5 the determination of the mode of e;istence, and et at the same time in preser6in5 it, which is onl possi!le in one wa : in opposin5 to it another. /he two sides of a !alance are in e<uili!rium when empt = the are also in e<uili!rium when their contents are of e<ual wei5ht. /hus, to pass from sensation to thou5ht, the soul tra6erses a medium position, in which sensi!ilit and reason are at the same time acti6e, and thus the mutuall destro their determinant power, and ! their anta5onism produce a ne5ation. /his medium situation in which the soul is neither ph sicall nor morall constrained, and et is in !oth wa s acti6e, merits essentiall the name of a free situation= and if we call the state of sensuous determination ph sical, and the state of rational determination lo5ical or moral, that state of real and acti6e determination should !e called the aesthetic. Letter II1. 1 ha6e remarked in the !e5innin5 of the fore5oin5 letter that there is a twofold condition of determina!leness and a twofold condition of determination. And now 1 can clear up this proposition. /he mind can !e determined - is determina!le - onl in as far as it is not determined= it is, howe6er, determina!le also, in as far as it is not e;clusi6el determined= that is, if it is not confined in its determination. /he former is onl a want of determination - it is without limits, !ecause it is without realit = !ut the latter, the aesthetic determina!leness, has no limits, !ecause it unites all realit . /he mind is determined, inasmuch as it is onl limited= !ut it is also determined !ecause it limits itself of its own a!solute capacit . 1t is situated in the former position when it feels, in the second when it thinks. Accordin5l the aesthetic constitution is in relation to determina!leness what thou5ht is in relation to determination. /he latter is a ne5ati6e from internal infinite completeness, the former a limitation from internal infinite power. $eelin5 and thou5ht come into contact in one sin5le point, the mind is determined in !oth conditions, the man !ecomes somethin5 and e;ists - either as indi6idual or person - ! e;clusion= in other cases these two faculties stand infinitel apart. "ust in the same manner, the aesthetic determina!leness comes in contact with the mere want of determination in a sin5le point, ! !oth e;cludin5 e6er distinct determined e;istence, ! thus !ein5 in all other points nothin5 and all, and hence ! !ein5 infinitel different. /herefore, if the latter, in the a!sence of determination from deficienc , is represented as an empt infiniteness, the aesthetic freedom of determination, which forms the proper counterpart to the former, can !e considered, as a completed infiniteness= a representation which e;actl a5rees with the teachin5s of the pre6ious in6esti5ations. Man is therefore nothin5 in the aesthetic state, if attention is 5i6en to the sin5le result, and not to the whole facult , and if we re5ard onl the a!sence or want of e6er special determination. >e

must therefore do :ustice to those who pronounce the !eautiful, and the disposition in which it places the mind, as entirel indifferent and unprofita!le, in relation to knowled5e and feelin5. /he are perfectl ri5ht= for it is certain that !eaut 5i6es no separate, sin5le result, either for the understandin5 or for the will= it does not carr out a sin5le intellectual or moral o!:ect= it disco6ers no truth, does not help us to fulfil a sin5le dut , and, in one word, is e<uall unfit to found the character or to clear the head. Accordin5l , the personal worth of a man, or his di5nit , as far as this can onl depend on himself, remains entirel undetermined ! aesthetic culture, and nothin5 further is attained than that, on the part of nature, it is made profita!le for him to make of himself what he will= that the freedom to !e what he ou5ht to !e is restored perfectl to him. But ! this, somethin5 infinite is attained. But as soon as we remem!er that freedom is taken from man ! the one-sided compulsion of nature in feelin5, and ! the e;clusi6e le5islation of the reason in thinkin5, we must consider the capacit restored to him ! the aesthetical disposition, as the hi5hest of all 5ifts, as the 5ift of humanit . 1 admit that he possesses this capacit for humanit , !efore e6er definite determination in which he ma !e placed. But as a matter of fact, he loses it with e6er determined condition, into which he ma come, and if he is to pass o6er to an opposite condition, humanit must !e in e6er case restored to him ! the aesthetic life. 1t is therefore not onl a poetical license, !ut also philosophicall correct, when !eaut is named our second creator. 2or is this inconsistent with the fact the she onl makes it possi!le for us to attain and realise humanit , lea6in5 this to our free will. $or in this she acts in common with our ori5inal creator, nature, which has imparted to us nothin5 further than this capacit for humanit , !ut lea6es the use of it to our own determination of will. Letter II11. Accordin5l , if the aesthetic disposition of the mind must !e looked upon in one respect as nothin5 - that is, when we confine our 6iew to separate and determined operations - it must !e looked upon in another respect as a state of the hi5hest realit , in as far as we attend to the a!sence of all limits and the sum of powers which are commonl acti6e in it. Accordin5l we cannot pronounce them, a5ain, to !e wron5 who descri!e the aesthetic state to !e the most producti6e in relation to knowled5e and moralit . /he are perfectl ri5ht, for a state of mind which comprises the whole of humanit in itself must of necessit include in itself also necessaril and potentiall - e6er separate e;pression of it. A5ain, a disposition of mind that remo6es all limitation from the totalit of human nature must also remo6e it from e6er social e;pression of the same. E;actl !ecause its 8aesthetic disposition8 does not e;clusi6el shelter an separate function of humanit , it is fa6oura!le to all without distinction= nor does it fa6our an particular functions, precisel !ecause it is the foundation of the possi!ilit of all. All other e;ercises 5i6e to the mind some special aptitude, !ut for that 6er reason 5i6e it some definite limits= onl the aesthetical leads him to the unlimited. E6er other condition, in which we can li6e, refers us to a pre6ious condition, and re<uires for its solution a followin5 condition= onl the aesthetic is a complete whole in itself, for it unites in itself all conditions of its source and of its duration. Here alone we feel oursel6es swept out of time, and our humanit e;presses itself with purit and inte5rit as if it had not et recei6ed an impression or interruption from the operation of e;ternal powers. /hat which flatters our senses in immediate sensation opens our weak and 6olatile spirit to e6er impression, !ut makes us in the same de5ree less apt for e;ertion. /hat which stretches our thinkin5 power and in6ites to a!stract conceptions stren5thens our mind for e6er kind of resistance, !ut hardens it also in the same proportion, and depri6es us of suscepti!ilit in the same ratio that it helps us to 5reater mental acti6it . $or this 6er reason, one as well as the other

!rin5s us at len5th to e;haustion, !ecause matter cannot lon5 do without the shapin5, constructi6e force, and the force cannot do without the constructi!le material. But on the other hand, if we ha6e resi5ned oursel6es to the en:o ment of 5enuine !eaut , we are at such a moment of our passi6e and acti6e powers in the same de5ree master, and we shall turn with ease from 5ra6e to 5a , from rest to mo6ement, from su!mission to resistance, to a!stract thinkin5 and intuition. /his hi5h indifference and freedom of mind, united with power and elasticit , is the disposition in which a true work of art ou5ht to dismiss us, and there is no !etter test of true aesthetic e;cellence. 1f after an en:o ment of this kind we find oursel6es speciall impelled to a particular mode of feelin5 or action, and unfit for other modes, this ser6es as an infalli!le proof that we ha6e not e;perienced an pure aesthetic effect, whether this is owin5 to the o!:ect, to our own mode of feelin5 - as 5enerall happens - or to !oth to5ether. As in realit no purel aesthetical effect can !e met with - for man can ne6er lea6e his dependance on material forces - the e;cellence of a work of art can onl consist in its 5reater appro;imation to its ideal of aesthetic purit , and howe6er hi5h we ma raise the freedom of this effect, we shall alwa s lea6e it with a particular disposition and a particular !ias. An class of productions or separate work in the world of art is no!le and e;cellent in proportion to the uni6ersalit of the disposition and the unlimited character of the !ias there! presented to our mind. /his truth can !e applied to works in 6arious !ranches of art, and also to different works in the same !ranch. >e lea6e a 5rand musical performance with our feelin5s e;cited, the readin5 of a no!le poem with a <uickened ima5ination, a !eautiful statue or !uildin5 with an awakened understandin5= !ut a man would not choose an opportune moment who attempted to in6ite us to a!stract thinkin5 after a hi5h musical en:o ment, or to attend to a prosaic affair of common life after a hi5h poetical en:o ment, or to kindle our ima5ination and astonish our feelin5s directl after inspectin5 a fine statue or edifice. /he reason of this is that music, ! its matter, e6en when most spiritual, presents a 5reater affinit with the senses than is permitted ! aesthetic li!ert = it is !ecause e6en the most happ poetr , ha6in5 for its medium the ar!itrar and contin5ent pla of the ima5ination, alwa s shares in it more than the intimate necessit of the reall !eautiful allows= it is !ecause the !est sculpture touches on se6ere science ! what is determinate in its conception. Howe6er, these particular affinities are lost in proportion as the works of these three kinds of art rise to a 5reater ele6ation, and it is a natural and necessar conse<uence of their perfection, that, without confoundin5 their o!:ecti6e limits, the different arts come to resem!le each other more and more, in the action which the e;ercise on the mind. At its hi5hest de5ree of enno!lin5, music ou5ht to !ecome a form, and act on us with the calm power of an anti<ue statue= in its most ele6ated perfection, the plastic art ou5ht to !ecome music and mo6e us ! the immediate action e;ercised on the mind ! the senses= in its most complete de6elopment, poetr ou5ht !oth to stir us powerfull like music and like plastic art to surround us with a peaceful li5ht. 1n each art, the perfect st le consists e;actl in knowin5 how to remo6e specific limits, while sacrificin5 at the same time the particular ad6anta5es of the art, and to 5i6e it ! a wise use of what !elon5s to it speciall a more 5eneral character. 2or is it onl the limits inherent in the specific character of each kind of art that the artist ou5ht to o6erstep in puttin5 his hand to the work= he must also triumph o6er those which are inherent in the particular su!:ect of which he treats. 1n a reall !eautiful work of art, the su!stance ou5ht to !e inoperati6e, the form should do e6er thin5= for ! the form, the whole man is acted on= the su!stance acts on nothin5 !ut isolated forces. /hus, howe6er 6ast and su!lime it ma !e, the su!stance alwa s e;ercises a restricti6e action on the mind, and true aesthetic li!ert can onl !e e;pected from the form. #onse<uentl the true search of the master consists in destro in5 matter ! the form= and the triumph of art is 5reat in proportion as it o6ercomes matter and maintains its

swa o6er those who en:o its work. 1t is 5reat particularl in destro in5 matter when most imposin5, am!itious, and attracti6e, when therefore matter has most power to produce the effect proper to it, or, a5ain, when it leads those who consider it more closel to enter directl into relation with it. /he mind of the spectator and of the hearer must remain perfectl free and intact= it must issue pure and entire from the ma5ic circle of the artist, as from the hands of the #reator. /he most fri6olous su!:ect ou5ht to !e treated in such a wa that we preser6e the facult to e;chan5e it immediatel for the most serious work. /he arts which ha6e passion for their o!:ect, as a tra5ed for e;ample, do not present a difficult here= for, in the first place these arts are not entirel free, !ecause the are in the ser6ice of a particular end &the pathetic-, and then no connoisseur will den that e6en in this class a work is perfect in proportion as amidst the most 6iolent storms of passion it respects the li!ert of the soul. /here is a fine art of passion, !ut an impassioned fine art is a contradiction in terms, for the infalli!le effect of the !eautiful is emancipation from the passions. /he idea of an instructi6e fine art &didactic art- or impro6in5 &moral- art is no less contradictor , for nothin5 a5rees less with the idea of the !eautiful than to 5i6e a determinate tendenc to the mind. Howe6er, from the fact that a work produces effects onl ! its su!stance, it must not alwa s !e inferred that there is a want of form in this work= this conclusion ma <uite as well testif to a want of form in the o!ser6er. 1f his mind is too stretched or too rela;ed, if it is onl accustomed to recei6e thin5s either ! the senses or the intelli5ence, e6en in the ost perfect com!ination, it will onl stop to look at the parts, and it will onl see matter in the most !eautiful form. @nl sensi!le of the coarse elements, he must first destro the aesthetic or5anisation of a work to find en:o ment in it, and carefull disinter the details which 5enius has caused to 6anish, with infinite art, in the harmon of the whole. /he interest he takes in the work is either solel moral or e;clusi6el ph sical= the onl thin5 wantin5 to it is to !e e;actl what it ou5ht to !e - aesthetical. /he readers of this class en:o a serious and pathetic poem as the do a sermon= a simple and pla ful work, as an ine!riatin5 drau5ht= and if on the one hand the ha6e so little taste as to demand edification from a tra5ed or from an epos, e6en such as the 8Messias,8 on the other hand the will !e infalli!l scandalised ! a piece after the fashion of Anacreon and #atullus. 9art %. Letter II111. 1 take up the thread of m researches, which 1 !roke off onl to appl the principles 1 laid down to practical art and the appreciation of its works. /he transition from the passi6it of sensuousness to the acti6it of thou5ht and of will can !e effected onl ! the intermediar state of aesthetic li!ert = and thou5h in itself this state decides nothin5 respectin5 our opinions and our sentiments, and therefore lea6es our intellectual and moral 6alue entirel pro!lematical, it is, howe6er, the necessar condition without which we should ne6er attain to an opinion or a sentiment. 1n a word, there is no other wa to make a reasona!le !ein5 out of a sensuous man than ! makin5 him first aesthetic. But, ou mi5ht o!:ect: 1s this mediation a!solutel indispensa!le? #ould not truth and dut , one or the other, in themsel6es and ! themsel6es, find access to the sensuous man? /o this 1 repl : 2ot onl is it possi!le, !ut it is a!solutel necessar that the owe solel to themsel6es their determinin5 force, and nothin5 would !e more contradictor to our precedin5 affirmations than to appear to defend the contrar opinion. 1t has !een e;pressl pro6ed that the !eautiful furnishes no result, either for the comprehension or for the will= that it min5les with no operations, either of thou5ht or of resolution= and that it confers this dou!le power without determinin5 an thin5 with re5ard to the real e;ercise of this power. Here all forei5n help disappears, and the pure lo5ical

form, the idea, would speak immediatel to the intelli5ence, as the pure moral form, the law, immediatel to the will. But that the pure form should !e capa!le of it, and that there is in 5eneral a pure form for sensuous man, is that, 1 maintain, which should !e rendered possi!le ! the aesthetic disposition of the soul. /ruth is not a thin5 which can !e recei6ed from without like realit or the 6isi!le e;istence of o!:ects. 1t is the thinkin5 force, in his own li!ert and acti6it , which produces it, and it is :ust this li!ert proper to it, this li!ert which we seek in 6ain in sensuous man. /he sensuous man is alread determined ph sicall , and thenceforth he has no lon5er his free determina!ilit = he must necessaril first enter into possession of this lost determina!ilit !efore he can e;chan5e the passi6e a5ainst an acti6e determination. /herefore, in order to reco6er it, he must either lose the passi6e determination that he had, or he should enclose alread in himself the acti6e determination to which he should pass. 1f he confined himself to lose passi6e determination, he would at the same time lose with it the possi!ilit of an acti6e determination, !ecause thou5ht need a !od , and form can onl !e realised throu5h matter. He must therefore contain alread in himself the acti6e determination that he ma !e at once !oth acti6el and passi6el determined, that is to sa , he !ecomes necessaril aesthetic. #onse<uentl , ! the aesthetic disposition of the soul the proper acti6it of reason is alread re6ealed in the sphere of sensuousness, the power of sense is alread !roken within its own !oundaries, and the enno!lin5 of ph sical man carried far enou5h, for spiritual man has onl to de6elop himself accordin5 to the laws of li!ert . /he transition from an aesthetic state to a lo5ical and moral state &from the !eautiful to truth and dut - is then infinitel more eas than the transition from the ph sical state to the aesthetic state &from life pure and !lind to form-. /his transition man can effectuate alone ! his li!ert , whilst he has onl to enter into possession of himself not to 5i6e it himself= !ut to separate the elements of his nature, and not to enlar5e it. Ha6in5 attained to the aesthetic disposition, man will 5i6e to his :ud5ments and to his actions a uni6ersal 6alue as soon as he desires it. /his passa5e from !rute nature to !eaut , is which an entirel new facult would awaken in him, nature would render easier, and his will has no power o6er a disposition which, we know, itself 5i6es !irth to the will. /o !rin5 the aesthetic man to profound 6iews, to ele6ated sentiments, he re<uires nothin5 more than important occasions= to o!tain the same thin5 from the sensuous man, his nature must at first !e chan5ed. /o make of the former a hero, a sa5e, it is often onl necessar to meet with a su!lime situation, which e;ercises upon the facult of the will the more immediate action= for the second, it must first !e transplanted under another sk . @ne of the most important tasks of culture, then, is to su!mit man to form, e6en in a purel ph sical life, and to render it aesthetic as far as the domain of the !eautiful can !e e;tended, for it is alone in the aesthetic state, and not in the ph sical state, that the moral state can !e de6eloped. 1f in each particular case man ou5ht to possess the power to make his :ud5ment and his will the :ud5ment of the entire species= if he ou5ht to find in each limited e;istence the transition to an infinite e;istence= if, lastl , he ou5ht from e6er dependent situation to take his fli5ht to rise to autonom and to li!ert , it must !e o!ser6ed that at no moment is he onl indi6idual and solel o!e s the law of nature. /o !e apt and read to raise himself from the narrow circle of the ends of nature, to rational ends, in the sphere of the former he must alread ha6e e;ercised himself in the second= he must alread ha6e realised his ph sical destin with a certain li!ert that !elon5s onl to spiritual nature, that is to sa , accordin5 to the laws of the !eautiful. And that he can effect without thwartin5 in the least de5ree his ph sical aim. /he e;i5encies of nature with re5ard to him turn onl upon what he does upon the su!stance of his acts= !ut the ends of nature in no de5ree determine the wa in which he acts, the form of his actions. @n the

contrar , the e;i5encies of reason ha6e ri5orousl the form of his acti6it for its o!:ect. /hus, so much as it is necessar for the moral destination of man, that he !e purel moral, that he shows an a!solute personal acti6it , so much is he indifferent that his ph sical destination !e entirel ph sical, that he acts in a manner entirel passi6e. Henceforth with re5ard to this last destination, it entirel depends on him to fulfil it solel as a sensuous !ein5 and natural force &as a force which acts onl as it diminishes- or, at the same time, as a!solute force, as a rational !ein5. /o which of these does his di5nit !est respond? @f this, there can !e no <uestion. 1t is as dis5raceful and contempti!le for him to do under sensuous impulsion that which he ou5ht to ha6e determined merel ! the moti6e of dut , as it is no!le and honoura!le for him to incline towards conformit with laws, harmon , independence= there e6en where the 6ul5ar man onl satisfies a le5itimate want. 1n a word, in the domain of truth and moralit , sensuousness must ha6e nothin5 to determine= !ut in the sphere of happiness, form ma find a place, and the instinct of pla pre6ail. /hus then, in the indifferent sphere of ph sical life, man ou5ht to alread commence his moral life= his own proper acti6it ou5ht alread to make wa in passi6it , and his rational li!ert !e ond the limits of sense= he ou5ht alread to impose the law of his will upon his inclinations= he ou5ht if ou will permit me the e;pression - to carr into the domain of matter the war a5ainst matter, in order to !e dispensed from com!attin5 this redou!ta!le enem upon the sacred field of li!ert = he ou5ht to learn to ha6e no!ler desires, not to !e forced to ha6e su!lime 6olitions. /his is the fruit of aesthetic culture, which su!mits to the laws of the !eautiful, in which neither the laws of nature nor those of reason suffer, which does not force the will of man, and which ! the form it 5i6es to e;terior life alread opens internal life. Letter II1%. Accordin5l three different moments or sta5es of de6elopment can !e distin5uished, which the indi6idual man, as well as the whole race, must of necessit tra6erse in a determinate order if the are to fulfil the circle of their determination. 2o dou!t, the separate periods can !e len5thened or shortened, throu5h accidental causes which are inherent either in the influence of e;ternal thin5s or under the free caprice of men= !ut neither of them can !e o6erstepped, and the order of their se<uence cannot !e in6erted either ! nature or ! the will. Man, in his ph sical condition, suffers onl the power of nature= he 5ets rid of this power in the aesthetical condition, and he rules them in the moral state. >hat is man !efore !eaut li!erates him from free pleasure, and the serenit of form tames down the sa6a5eness of life? Eternall uniform in his aims, eternall chan5in5 in his :ud5ments, self-seekin5 without !ein5 himself, unfettered without !ein5 free, a sla6e without ser6in5 an rule. At this period, the world is to him onl destin , not et an o!:ect= all has e;istence for him onl in as far as it procures e;istence to him= a thin5 that neither seeks from nor 5i6es to him is non-e;istent. E6er phaenomenon stands out !efore him, separate and cut off, as he finds himself in the series of !ein5s. All that is, is to him throu5h the !ias of the moment= e6er chan5e is to him an entirel fresh creation, !ecause with the necessar in him, the necessar out of him is wantin5, which !inds to5ether all the chan5in5 forms in the uni6erse, and which holds fast the law on the theatre of his action, while the indi6idual departs. 1t is in 6ain that nature lets the rich 6ariet of her forms pass !efore him= he sees in her 5lorious fullness nothin5 !ut his pre , in her power and 5reatness nothin5 !ut his enem . Either he encounters o!:ects, and wishes to draw them to himself in desire, or the o!:ects press in a destructi6e manner upon him, and he thrusts them awa in disma and terror. 1n !oth cases his relation to the world of sense is immediate contact= and perpetuall an;ious throu5h its pressure, restless and pla5ued ! imperious wants, he nowhere finds rest e;cept in ener6ation, and nowhere limits sa6e in e;hausted desire.

8/rue, his is the powerful !reast and the mi5ht hand of the /itans. . . . A certain inheritance= et the 5od welded Eound his forehead a !raAen !and= Ad6ice, moderation, wisdom, and patience, Hid it from his sh , sinister look. E6er desire is with him a ra5e, And his ra5e prowls around limitless.8 - 1phi5enia in /auris. 15norant of his own human di5nit , he is far remo6ed from honourin5 it in others, and conscious of his own sa6a5e 5reed, he fears it in e6er creature that he sees like himself. He ne6er sees others in himself, onl himself in others, and human societ , instead of enlar5in5 him to the race, onl shuts him up continuall closer in his indi6idualit . /hus limited, he wanders throu5h his sunless life, till fa6ourin5 nature rolls awa the load of matter from his darkened senses, reflection separates him from thin5s, and o!:ects show themsel6es at len5th in the after-5low of the consciousness. 1t is true we cannot point out this state of rude nature as we ha6e here portra ed it in an definite people and a5e. 1t is onl an idea, !ut an idea with which e;perience a5rees most closel in special features. 1t ma !e said that man was ne6er in this animal condition, !ut he has not, on the other hand, e6er entirel escaped from it. E6en in the rudest su!:ects, unmistaka!le traces of rational freedom can !e found, and e6en in the most culti6ated, features are not wantin5 that remind us of that dismal natural condition. 1t is possi!le for man, at one and the same time, to unite the hi5hest and the lowest in his nature= and if his di5nit depends on a strict separation of one from the other, his happiness depends on a skilful remo6al of this separation. /he culture which is to !rin5 his di5nit into a5reement with his happiness will therefore ha6e to pro6ide for the 5reatest purit of these two principles in their most intimate com!ination. #onse<uentl the first appearance of reason in man is not the !e5innin5 of humanit . /his is first decided ! his freedom, and reason !e5ins first ! makin5 his sensuous dependence !oundless= a phaenomenon that does not appear to me to ha6e !een sufficientl elucidated, considerin5 its importance and uni6ersalit . >e know that the reason makes itself known to man ! the demand for the a!solute - the self - dependent and necessar . But as this want of the reason cannot !e satisfied in an separate or sin5le state of his ph sical life, he is o!li5ed to lea6e the ph sical entirel and to rise from a limited realit to ideas. But althou5h the true meanin5 of that demand of the reason is to withdraw him from the limits of time and to lead him up from the world of sense to an ideal world, et this same demand of reason, ! a misapplication - scarcel to !e a6oided in this a5e, prone to sensuousness can direct him to ph sical life, and, instead of makin5 man free, plun5e him in the most terri!le sla6er . $acts 6erif this supposition. Man raised on the win5s of ima5ination lea6es the narrow limits of the present, in which mere animalit is enclosed, in order to stri6e on to an unlimited future. But while the limitless is unfolded to his daAed ima5ination, his heart has not ceased to li6e in the separate, and to ser6e the moment. /he impulse towards the a!solute seiAes him suddenl in the midst of his animalit , and as in this cloddish condition all his efforts aim onl at the material and temporal, and are limited ! his indi6idualit , he is onl led ! that demand of the reason to e;tend his indi6idualit into the infinite, instead of to a!stract from it. He will !e led to seek instead of form an ine;hausti!le matter, instead of the unchan5ea!le an e6erlastin5 chan5e and an a!solute securin5 of his temporal e;istence. /he same impulse which, directed to his thou5ht and action, ou5ht to lead to truth and moralit , now directed to his passion and emotional state, produces nothin5 !ut an unlimited desire and an a!solute want. /he first fruits, therefore, that he reaps in the world of spirits, are cares and fear - !oth operations of the reason= not of sensuousness, !ut of a reason that mistakes its o!:ect and applies its cate5orical imperati6e to matter. All unconditional s stems of happiness are fruits of this tree, whether the ha6e for their o!:ect the present da or the whole of life, or what does not make them an more respecta!le, the

whole of eternit , for their o!:ect. An unlimited duration of e;istence and of well-!ein5 is onl an ideal of the desires= hence a demand which can onl !e put forth ! an animalit stri6in5 up to the a!solute. Man, therefore, without 5ainin5 an thin5 for his humanit ! a rational e;pression of this sort, loses the happ limitation of the animal o6er which he now onl possesses the unen6ia!le superiorit of losin5 the present for an endea6our after what is remote, et without seekin5 in the limitless future an thin5 !ut the present. But e6en if the reason does not 5o astra in its o!:ect, or err in the <uestion, sensuousness will continue to falsif the answer for a lon5 time. As soon as man has !e5un to use his understandin5 and to knit to5ether phaenomena in cause and effect, the reason, accordin5 to its conception, presses on to an a!solute knittin5 to5ether and to an unconditional !asis. 1n order merel to !e a!le to put forward this demand man must alread ha6e stepped !e ond the sensuous, !ut the sensuous uses this 6er demand to !rin5 !ack the fu5iti6e. 1n fact it is now that he ou5ht to a!andon entirel the world of sense in order to take his fli5ht into the realm of ideas= for the intelli5ence remains eternall shut up in the finite and in the contin5ent, and does not cease puttin5 <uestions without reachin5 the last link of the chain. But as the man with whom we are en5a5ed is not et capa!le of such an a!straction, and does not find it in the sphere of sensuous knowled5e, and !ecause he does not look for it in pure reason, he will seek for it !elow in the re5ion of sentiment, and will appear to find it. 2o dou!t the sensuous shows him nothin5 that has its foundation in itself, and that le5islates for itself, !ut it shows him somethin5 that does not care for foundation or law= therefore thus not !ein5 a!le to <uiet the intelli5ence ! showin5 it a final cause, he reduces it to silence ! the conception which desires no cause= and !ein5 incapa!le of understandin5 the su!lime necessit of reason, he keeps to the !lind constraint of matter. As sensuousness knows no other end than its interest, and is determined ! nothin5 e;cept !lind chance, it makes the former the moti6e of its actions, and the latter the master of the world. E6en the di6ine part in man, the moral law, in its first manifestation in the sensuous cannot a6oid this per6ersion. As this moral law is onl prohi!ited and com!ats in man the interest of sensuous e5otism, it must appear to him as somethin5 stran5e until he has come to consider this self-lo6e as the stran5er, and the 6oice of reason as his true self. /herefore he confines himself to feelin5 the fetters which the latter impose on him, without ha6in5 the consciousness of the infinite emancipation which it procures for him. >ithout suspectin5 in himself the di5nit of law5i6er, he onl e;periences the constraint and the impotent re6olt of a su!:ect frettin5 under the oke, !ecause in this e;perience the sensuous impulsion precedes the moral impulsion, he 5i6es to the law of necessit a !e5innin5 in him, a positi6e ori5in, and ! the most unfortunate of all mistakes he con6erts the immuta!le and the eternal in himself into a transitor accident. He makes up his mind to consider the notions of the :ust and the un:ust as statutes which ha6e !een introduced ! a will, and not as ha6in5 in themsel6es an eternal 6alue. "ust as in the e;planation of certain natural phaenomena he 5oes !e ond nature and seeks out of her what can onl !e found in her, in her own laws= so also in the e;planation of moral phaenomena he 5oes !e ond reason and makes li5ht of his humanit , seekin5 a 5od in this wa . 1t is not wonderful that a reli5ion which he has purchased at the cost of his humanit shows itself worth of this ori5in, and that he onl considers as a!solute and eternall !indin5 laws that ha6e ne6er !een !indin5 from all eternit . He has placed himself in relation with, not a hol !ein5, !ut a powerful. /herefore the spirit of his reli5ion, of the homa5e that he 5i6es to 4od, is a fear that a!ases him, and not a 6eneration that ele6ates him in his own esteem. /hou5h these different a!errations ! which man departs from the ideal of his destination cannot all take place at the same time, !ecause se6eral de5rees ha6e to !e passed o6er in the transition

from the o!scure of thou5h to error, and from the o!scure of will to the corruption of the will= these de5rees are all, without e;ception, the conse<uence of his ph sical state, !ecause in all the 6ital impulsion swa s the formal impulsion. 2ow, two cases ma happen: either reason ma not et ha6e spoken in man, and the ph sical ma rei5n o6er him with a !lind necessit , or reason ma not !e sufficientl purified from sensuous impressions, and the moral ma still !e su!:ect to the ph sical= in !oth cases the onl principle that has a real power o6er him is a material principle, and man, at least as re5ards his ultimate tendenc , is a sensuous !ein5. /he onl difference is, that in the former case he is an animal without reason, and in the second case a rational animal. But he ou5ht to !e neither one nor the other: he ou5ht to !e a man. 2ature ou5ht not to rule him e;clusi6el = nor reason conditionall . /he two le5islations ou5ht to !e completel independent and et mutuall complementar . Letter II%. >hilst man, in his first ph sical condition, is onl passi6el affected ! the world of sense, he is still entirel identified with it= and for this reason the e;ternal world, as et, has no o!:ecti6e e;istence for him. >hen he !e5ins in his aesthetic state of mind to re5ard the world o!:ecti6el , then onl is his personalit se6ered from it, and the world appears to him an o!:ecti6e realit , for the simple reason that he has ceased to form an identical portion of it. /hat which first connects man with the surroundin5 uni6erse is the power of reflecti6e contemplation. >hereas desire seiAes at once its o!:ect, reflection remo6es it to a distance and renders it inaliena!l her own ! sa6in5 it from the 5reed of passion. /he necessit of sense which he o!e ed durin5 the period of mere sensations, lessens durin5 the period of reflection= the senses are for the time in a!e ance= e6en e6er-fleetin5 time stands still whilst the scattered ra s of consciousness are 5atherin5 and shape themsel6es= an ima5e of the infinite is reflected upon the perisha!le 5round. As soon as li5ht dawns in man, there is no lon5er ni5ht outside of him= as soon as there is peace within him the storm lulls throu5hout the uni6erse, and the contendin5 forces of nature find rest within prescri!ed limits. Hence we cannot wonder if ancient traditions allude to these 5reat chan5es in the inner man as to a re6olution in surroundin5 nature, and s m!olise thou5ht triumphin5 o6er the laws of time, ! the fi5ure of Jeus, which terminates the rei5n of Saturn. As lon5 as man deri6es sensations from a contact with nature, he is her sla6e= !ut as soon as he !e5ins to reflect upon her o!:ects and laws he !ecomes her law5i6er. 2ature, which pre6iousl ruled him as a power, now e;pands !efore him as an o!:ect. >hat is o!:ecti6e to him can ha6e no power o6er him, for in order to !ecome o!:ecti6e it has to e;perience his own power. As far and as lon5 as he impresses a form upon matter, he cannot !e in:ured ! its effect= for a spirit can onl !e in:ured ! that which depri6es it of its freedom. >hereas he pro6es his own freedom ! 5i6in5 a form to the formless= where the mass rules hea6il and without shape, and its undefined outlines are for e6er fluctuatin5 !etween uncertain !oundaries, fear takes up its a!ode= !ut man rises a!o6e an natural terror as soon as he knows how to mould it, and transform it into an o!:ect of his art. As soon as he upholds his independence toward phaenomenal nature, he maintains his di5nit toward her as a thin5 of power and with a no!le freedom he rises a5ainst his 5ods. /he throw aside the mask with which the had kept him in awe durin5 his infanc , and to his surprise his mind percei6es the reflection of his own ima5e. /he di6ine monster of the @riental, which roams a!out chan5in5 the world with the !lind force of a !east of pre , dwindles to the charmin5 outline of humanit in 4reek fa!le= the empire of the /itans is crushed, and !oundless force is tamed ! infinite form. But whilst 1 ha6e !een merel searchin5 for an issue from the material world and a passa5e into the world of mind, the !old fli5ht on m ima5ination has alread taken me into the 6er midst of

the latter world. /he !eaut of which we are in search we ha6e left !ehind ! passin5 from the life of mere sensations to the pure form and to the pure o!:ect. Such a leap e;ceeds the condition of human nature= in order to keep pace with the latter we must return to the world of sense. Beaut is indeed the sphere of unfettered contemplation and reflection= !eaut conducts us into the world of ideas, without howe6er takin5 us from the world of sense, as occurs when a truth is percei6ed and acknowled5ed. /his is the pure product of a process of a!straction from e6er thin5 material and accidental, a pure o!:ect free from e6er su!:ecti6e !arrier, a pure state of self-acti6it without an admi;ture of passi6e sensations. /here is indeed a wa !ack to sensation from the hi5hest a!straction= for thou5ht teaches the inner sensation, and the idea of lo5ical and moral unit passes into a sensation of sensual accord. But if we deli5ht in knowled5e we separate 6er accuratel our own conceptions from our sensations= we look upon the latter as somethin5 accidental, which mi5ht ha6e !een omitted without the knowled5e !ein5 impaired there! , without truth !ein5 less true. 1t would, howe6er, !e a 6ain attempt to suppress this connection of the facult of feelin5 with the idea of !eaut , conse<uentl , we shall not succeed in representin5 to oursel6es one as the effect of the other, !ut we must look upon them !oth to5ether and reciprocall as cause and effect. 1n the pleasure which we deri6e from knowled5e we readil distin5uish the passa5e from the acti6e to the passi6e state, and we clearl percei6e that the first ends when the second !e5ins. @n the contrar , from the pleasure which we take in !eaut , this transition from the acti6e to the passi6e is not percei6a!le, and reflection is so intimatel !lended with feelin5 that we !elie6e we feel the form immediatel . Beaut is then an o!:ect to us, it is true, !ecause reflection is the condition of the feelin5 which we ha6e of it= !ut it is also a state of our personalit &our E5o-, !ecause the feelin5 is the condition of the idea we concei6e of it: !eaut is therefore dou!tless form, !ecause we contemplate it, !ut it is e<uall life !ecause we feel it. 1n a word, it is at once our state and our act. And precisel !ecause it is at the same time !oth a state and an act, it triumphantl pro6es to us that the passi6e does not e;clude the acti6e, neither matter nor form, neither the finite nor the infinite= and that conse<uentl the ph sical dependence to which man is necessaril de6oted does not in an wa destro his moral li!ert . /his is the proof of !eaut , and 1 ou5ht to add that this alone can pro6e it. 1n fact, as in the possession of truth or of lo5ical unit , feelin5 is not necessaril one with the thou5ht, !ut follows it accidentall = it is a fact which onl pro6es that a sensiti6e nature can succeed a rational nature, and 6ice 6ersa= not that the co-e;ist, that the e;ercise a reciprocal action one o6er the other, and lastl that the ou5ht to !e united in an a!solute and necessar manner. $rom this e;clusion of feelin5 as lon5 as there is thou5ht, and of thou5ht so lon5 as there is feelin5, we should on the contrar conclude that the two natures are incompati!le, so that in order to demonstrate the pure reason is to !e realised in humanit , the !est proof 5i6en ! the anal sis is that this realisation is demanded. But, as in the realisation of !eaut or of aesthetic unit , there is a real union, mutual su!stitution of matter and of form, of passi6e and of acti6e, ! this alone in pro6ed the compati!ilit of the two natures, the possi!le realisation of the infinite in the finite, and conse<uentl also the possi!ilit of the most su!lime humanit . Henceforth we need no lon5er !e em!arrassed to find a transition from dependent feelin5 to moral li!ert , !ecause !eaut re6eals to us the fact that the can perfectl co-e;ist, and that to show himself a spirit, man need not escape from matter. But if on one side he is free, e6en in his relation with a 6isi!le world, as the fact of !eaut teaches, and if on the other side freedom is somethin5 a!solute and supersensuous, as its idea necessaril implies, the <uestion is no lon5er how man succeeds in raisin5 himself from the finite to the a!solute, and opposin5 himself in his thou5ht and will to sensualit , as this has alread !een produced in the fact of !eaut . 1n a word, we ha6e no lon5er to ask how he passes from 6irtue to truth, which is alread included in the

former, !ut how he opens a wa for himself from 6ul5ar realit to aesthetic realit , and from the ordinar feelin5s of life to the perception of the !eautiful. Letter II%1. 1 ha6e shown in the pre6ious letters that it is onl the aesthetic disposition of the soul that 5i6es !irth to li!ert , it cannot therefore !e deri6ed from li!ert nor ha6e a moral ori5in. 1t must !e a 5ift of nature, the fa6our of chance alone can !reak the !onds of the ph sical state and !rin5 the sa6a5e to dut . /he 5erm of the !eautiful will find an e<ual difficult in de6elopin5 itself in countries where a se6ere nature for!ids man to en:o himself, and in those where a prodi5al nature dispenses him from all effort= where the !lunted senses e;perience no want, and where 6iolent desire can ne6er !e satisfied. /he deli5htful flower of the !eautiful will ne6er unfold itself in the case of the /ro5lod te hid in his ca6ern alwa s alone, and ne6er findin5 humanit outside himself= nor amon5 nomads, who, tra6ellin5 in 5reat troops, onl consist of a multitude, and ha6e no indi6idual humanit . 1t will onl flourish in places where man con6erses peacefull with himself in his cotta5e, and with the whole race when he issues from it. 1n those climates where a limpid ether opens the senses to the li5htest impression, whilst a life-5i6in5 warmth de6elopes a lu;uriant nature, where e6en in the inanimate creation the swa of inert matter is o6erthrown, and the 6ictorious form enno!les e6en the most a!:ect natures= in this :o ful state and fortunate Aone, where acti6it alone leads to en:o ment, and en:o ment to acti6it , from life itself issues a hol harmon , and the laws of order de6elope life, a different result takes place. >hen ima5ination incessantl escapes from realit , and does not a!andon the simplicit of nature in its wanderin5s= then and there onl the mind and the senses, the recepti6e force and the plastic force, are de6eloped in that happ e<uili!rium which is the soul of the !eautiful and the condition of humanit . >hat phaenomenon accompanies the initiation of the sa6a5e into humanit ? Howe6er far we look !ack into histor the phaenomenon is identical amon5 all people who ha6e shaken off the sla6er of the animal state, the lo6e of appearance, the inclination for dress and for 5ames. E;treme stupidit and e;treme intelli5ence ha6e a certain affinit in onl seekin5 the real and !ein5 completel insensi!le to mere appearance. /he former is onl drawn forth ! the immediate presence of an o!:ect in the senses, and the second is reduced to a <uiescent state onl ! referrin5 conceptions to the facts of e;perience. 1n short, stupidit cannot rise a!o6e realit , nor the intelli5ence descend !elow truth. /hus, in as far as the want of realit and attachment to the real are onl the conse<uence of a want and a defect, indifference to the real and an interest taken in appearances are a real enlar5ement of humanit and a decisi6e step towards culture. 1n the first place it is the proof of an e;terior li!ert , for as lon5 as necessit commands and want solicits, the fanc is strictl chained down to the real= it is onl when want is satisfied that it de6elopes without hindrance. But it is also the proof of an internal li!ert , !ecause it re6eals to us a force which, independent of an e;ternal su!stratum, sets itself in motion, and has sufficient ener5 to remo6e from itself the solicitations of nature. /he realit of thin5s is effected ! thin5s, the appearance of thin5s is the work of man, and a soul that takes pleasure in appearance does not take pleasure in what it recei6es !ut in what it makes. 1t is self-e6ident that 1 am speakin5 of aesthetical e6idence different from realit and truth, and not of lo5ical appearance identical with them. /herefore if it is liked it is !ecause it is an appearance, and not !ecause it is held to !e somethin5 !etter than it is: the first principle alone is a pla whilst the second is a deception. /o 5i6e a 6alue to the appearance of the first kind can ne6er in:ure truth, !ecause it is ne6er to !e feared that it will supplant it - the onl wa in which truth can !e in:ured. /o despise this appearance is to despise in 5eneral all the fine arts of which it is the essence. 2e6ertheless, it happens sometimes that the understandin5 carries its Aeal for

realit as far as this intolerance, and strikes with a sentence of ostracism all the arts relatin5 to !eaut in appearance, !ecause it is onl an appearance. Howe6er, the intelli5ence onl shows this 6i5orous spirit when it calls to mind the affinit pointed out further !ack. 1 shall find some da the occasion to treat speciall of the limits of !eaut in its appearance. 1t is nature herself which raises man from realit to appearance ! endowin5 him with two senses which onl lead him to the knowled5e of the real throu5h appearance. 1n the e e and the ear the or5ans of the senses are alread freed from the persecutions of nature, and the o!:ect with which we are immediatel in contact throu5h the animal senses is remoter from us. >hat we see ! the e e differs from what we feel= for the understandin5 to reach o!:ects o6erleaps the li5ht which separates us from them. 1n truth, we are passi6e to an o!:ect= in si5ht and hearin5 the o!:ect is a form we create. >hile still a sa6a5e, man onl en:o s throu5h touch merel aided ! si5ht and sound. He either does not rise to perception throu5h si5ht, or does not rest there. As soon as he !e5ins to en:o throu5h a si5ht, 6ision has an independent 6alue, he is aestheticall free, and the instinct of pla is de6eloped. /he instinct of pla likes appearance, and directl it is awakened it is followed ! the formal imitati6e instinct which treats appearance as an independent thin5. Birectl man has come to distin5uish the appearance from the realit , the form from the !od , he can separate, in fact he has alread done so. /hus the facult of the art of imitation is 5i6en with the facult of form in 5eneral. /he inclination that draws us to it reposes on another tendenc 1 ha6e not to notice here. /he e;act period when the aesthetic instinct, or that of art, de6elopes, depends entirel on the attraction that mere appearance has for men. As e6er real e;istence proceeds from nature as a forei5n power, whilst e6er appearance comes in the first place from man as a percipient su!:ect, he onl uses his a!solute si5ht in separatin5 sem!lance from essence, and arran5in5 accordin5 to su!:ecti6e law. >ith an un!ridled li!ert he can unite what nature has se6ered, pro6ided he can ima5ine his union, and he can separate what nature has united, pro6ided this separation can take place in his intelli5ence. Here nothin5 can !e sacred to him !ut his own law: the onl condition imposed upon him is to respect the !order which separates his own sphere from the e;istence of thin5s or from the realm of nature. /his human ri5ht of rulin5 is e;ercised ! man in the art of appearance= and his success in e;tendin5 the empire of the !eautiful, and 5uardin5 the frontiers of truth, will !e in proportion with the strictness with which he separates form from su!stance: for if he frees appearance from realit he must also do the con6erse. But man possesses so6erei5n power onl in the world of appearance, in the unsu!stantial realm of ima5ination, onl ! a!stainin5 from 5i6in5 !ein5 to appearance in theor , and ! 5i6in5 it !ein5 in practice. 1t follows that the poet trans5resses his proper limits when he attri!utes !ein5 to his ideal, and when he 5i6es this ideal aim as a determined e;istence. $or he can onl reach this result ! e;ceedin5 his ri5ht as a poet, that of encroachin5 ! the ideal on the field of e;perience, and ! pretendin5 to determine real e;istence in 6irtue of a simple possi!ilit , or else he renounces his ri5ht as poet ! lettin5 e;perience encroach on the sphere of the ideal, and ! restrictin5 possi!ilit to the conditions of realit . 1t is onl ! !ein5 frank or disclaimin5 all realit , and ! !ein5 independent or doin5 without realit , that the appearance is aesthetical. Birectl it apes realit or needs realit for effect it is nothin5 more than a 6ile instrument for material ends, and can pro6e nothin5 for the freedom of the mind. Moreo6er, the o!:ect in which we find !eaut need not !e unreal if our :ud5ment disre5ards this realit = for if it re5ards this the :ud5ment is no lon5er aesthetical. A !eautiful woman if li6in5 would no dou!t please us as much and rather more than an e<uall !eautiful woman seen in paintin5= !ut what makes the former please men is not her !ein5 an independent

appearance= she no lon5er pleases the pure aesthetic feelin5. 1n the paintin5, life must onl attract as an appearance, and realit as an idea. But it is certain that to feel in a li6in5 o!:ect onl the pure appearance, re<uires a 5reatl hi5her aesthetic culture than to do without life in the appearance. >hen the frank and independent appearance is found in man separatel , or in a whole people, it ma !e inferred the ha6e mind, taste, and all prero5ati6es connected with them. 1n this case, the ideal will !e seen to 5o6ern real life, honour triumphin5 o6er fortune, thou5ht o6er en:o ment, the dream of immortalit o6er a transitor e;istence. 1n this case pu!lic opinion will no lon5er !e feared and an oli6e crown will !e more 6alued than a purple mantle. 1mpotence and per6ersit alone ha6e recourse to false and paltr sem!lance, and indi6iduals as well as nations who lend to realit the support of appearance, or to the aesthetical appearance the support of realit , show their moral unworthiness and their aesthetical impotence. /herefore, a short and conclusi6e answer can !e 5i6en to this <uestion - How far will appearance !e permitted in the moral world? 1t will run thus in proportion as this appearance will !e aesthetical, that is, an appearance that does not tr to make up for realit , nor re<uires to !e made up for ! it. /he aesthetical appearance can ne6er endan5er the truth of morals: where6er it seems to do so the appearance is not aesthetical. @nl a stran5er to the fashiona!le world can take the polite assurances, which are onl a form, for proofs of affection, and sa he has !een decei6ed= !ut onl a clums fellow in 5ood societ calls in the aid of duplicit and flatters to !ecome amia!le. /he former lacks the pure sense for independent appearance= therefore he can onl 5i6e a 6alue to appearance ! truth. /he second lacks realit , and wishes to replace it ! appearance. 2othin5 is more common than to hear depreciators of the times utter these paltr complaints that all solidit has disappeared from the world, and that essence is ne5lected for sem!lance. /hou5h 1 feel ! no means called upon to defend this a5e a5ainst these reproaches, 1 must sa that the wide application of these criticisms shows that the attach !lame to the a5e, not onl on the score of the false, !ut also of the frank appearance. And e6en the e;ceptions the admit in fa6our of the !eautiful ha6e for their o!:ect less the independent appearance than the need appearance. 2ot onl do the attack the artificial colourin5 that hides truth and replaces realit , !ut also the !eneficent appearance that fills a 6acuum and clothes po6ert = and the e6en attack the ideal appearance that enno!les a 6ul5ar realit . /heir strict sense of truth is ri5htl offended ! the falsit of manners= unfortunatel , the class politeness in this cate5or . 1t displeases them that the nois and show so often eclipse true merit, !ut the are no less shocked that appearance is also demanded from merit, and that a real su!stance does not dispense with an a5reea!le form. /he re5ret the cordialit , the ener5 , and solidit of ancient times= the would restore with them ancient coarseness, hea6iness, and the old 4othic profusion. B :ud5ments of this kind the show an esteem for the matter itself unworth of humanit , which ou5ht onl to 6alue the matter inasmuch as it can recei6e a form and enlar5e the empire of ideas. Accordin5l , the taste of the a5e need not much fear these criticisms, if it can clear itself !efore !etter :ud5es. @ur defect is not to 5rant a 6alue to aesthetic appearance &we do not do this enou5h-: a se6ere :ud5e of the !eautiful mi5ht rather reproach us with not ha6in5 arri6ed at pure appearance, with not ha6in5 separated clearl enou5h e;istence from the phaenomenon, and thus esta!lished their limits. >e shall deser6e this reproach so lon5 as we cannot en:o the !eautiful in li6in5 nature without desirin5 it= as lon5 as we cannot admire the !eautiful in the imitati6e arts without ha6in5 an end in 6iew= as lon5 as we do not 5rant to ima5ination an a!solute le5islation of its own= and as lon5 as we do not inspire it with care for its di5nit ! the esteem we testif for its works. 9art %1. Letter II%11.

Bo not fear for realit and truth. E6en if the ele6ated idea of aesthetic appearance !ecame 5eneral, it would not !ecome so, as lon5 as man remains so little culti6ated as to a!use it= and if it !ecame 5eneral, this would result from a culture that would pre6ent all a!use of it. /he pursuit of independent appearance re<uires more power of a!straction, freedom of heart, and ener5 of will than man re<uires to shut himself up in realit = and he must ha6e left the latter !ehind him if he wishes to attain to aesthetic appearance. /herefore a man would calculate 6er !adl who took the road of the ideal to sa6e himself that of realit . /hus realit would not ha6e much to fear from appearance, as we understand it= !ut, on the other hand, appearance would ha6e more to fear from realit . #hained to matter, man uses appearance for his purposes !efore he allows it a proper personalit in the art of the ideal: to come to that point a complete re6olution must take place in his mode of feelin5, otherwise he would not !e e6en on the wa to the ideal. #onse<uentl , when we find in man the si5ns of a pure and disinterested esteem, we can infer that this re6olution has taken place in his nature, and that humanit has reall !e5un in him. Si5ns of this kind are found e6en in the first and rude attempts that he makes to em!ellish his e;istence, e6en at the risk of makin5 it worse in its material conditions. As soon as he !e5ins to prefer form to su!stance and to risk realit for appearance &known ! him to !e such-, the !arriers of animal life fall, and he finds himself on a track that has no end. 2ot satisfied with the needs of nature, he demands the superfluous. $irst, onl the superfluous of matter, to secure his en:o ment !e ond the present necessit = !ut afterwards he wishes a supera!undance in matter, an aesthetical supplement to satisf the impulse for the formal, to e;tend en:o ment !e ond necessit . B pilin5 up pro6isions simpl for a future use, and anticipatin5 their en:o ment in the ima5ination, he outsteps the limits of the present moment, !ut not those of time in 5eneral. He en:o s more= he does not en:o differentl . But as soon as he makes form enter into his en:o ment, and he keeps in 6iew the forms of the o!:ects which satisf his desires, he has not onl increased his pleasure in e;tent and intensit , !ut he has also enno!led it in mode and species. 2o dou!t nature has 5i6en more than is necessar to unreasonin5 !ein5s= she has caused a 5leam of freedom to shine e6en in the darkness of animal life. >hen the lion is not tormented ! hun5er, and when no wild !east challen5es him to fi5ht, his unemplo ed ener5 creates an o!:ect for himself= full of ardour, he fills the re-echoin5 desert with his terri!le roars, and his e;u!erant force re:oices in itself, showin5 itself without an o!:ect. /he insect flits a!out re:oicin5 in life in the sunli5ht, and it is certainl not the cr of want that makes itself heard in the melodious son5 of the !ird= there is undenia!l freedom in these mo6ements, thou5h it is not emancipation from want in 5eneral, !ut from a determinate e;ternal necessit . /he animal works, when a pri6ation is the motor of its acti6it , and it pla s when the plenitude of force is this motor, when an e;u!erant life is e;cited to action. E6en in inanimate nature a lu;ur of stren5th and a latitude of determination are shown, which in this material sense mi5ht !e st led pla . /he tree produces num!erless 5erms that are a!orti6e without de6elopin5, and it sends forth more roots, !ranches and lea6es, or5ans of nutrition, than are used for the preser6ation of the species. >hate6er this tree restores to the elements of its e;u!erant life, without usin5 it, or en:o in5 it, ma !e e;pended ! life in free and :o ful mo6ements. 1t is thus that nature offers in her material sphere a sort of prelude to the limitless, and that e6en there she suppresses partiall the chains from which she will !e completel emancipated in the realm of form. /he constraint of supera!undance or ph sical pla , answers as a transition from the constraint of necessit , or of ph sical seriousness, to aesthetical pla = and !efore shakin5 off, in the supreme freedom of the !eautiful, the oke of an special aim, nature alread approaches, at least remotel , this independence, ! the free mo6ement which is itself its own end and means.

/he ima5ination, like the !odil or5ans, has in man its free mo6ement and its material pla , a pla in which, without an reference to form, it simpl takes pleasure in its ar!itrar power and in the a!sence of all hindrance. /hese pla s of fanc , inasmuch as form is not mi;ed up with them, and !ecause a free succession of ima5es makes all their charm, thou5h confined to man, !elon5 e;clusi6el to animal life, and onl pro6e one thin5 - that he is deli6ered from all e;ternal sensuous constraint - without our !ein5 entitled to infer that there is in it an independent plastic force. $rom this pla of free association of ideas, which is still <uite material in nature and is e;plained ! simple natural laws, the ima5ination, ! makin5 the attempt of creatin5 a free form, passes at len5th at a :ump to the aesthetic pla : 1 sa at one leap, for <uite a new force enters into action here= for here, for the first time, the le5islati6e mind is mi;ed with the acts of a !lind instinct, su!:ects the ar!itrar march of the ima5ination to its eternal and immuta!le unit , causes its independent permanence to enter in that which is transitor , and its infinit in the sensuous. 2e6ertheless, as lon5 as rude nature, which knows of no other law than runnin5 incessantl from chan5e to chan5e, will et retain too much stren5th, it will oppose itself ! its different caprices to this necessit = ! its a5itation to this permanence= ! its manifold needs to this independence, and ! its insatia!ilit to this su!lime simplicit . 1t will !e also trou!lesome to reco5nise the instinct of pla in its first trials, seein5 that the sensuous impulsion, with its capricious humour and its 6iolent appetites, constantl crosses. 1t is on that account that we see the taste, still coarse, seiAe that which is new and startlin5, the disordered, the ad6enturous and the stran5e, the 6iolent and the sa6a5e, and fl from nothin5 so much as from calm and simplicit . 1t in6ents 5rotes<ue fi5ures, it likes rapid transitions, lu;urious forms, sharpl marked chan5es, acute tones, a pathetic son5. /hat which man calls !eautiful at this time, is that which e;cites him, that which 5i6es him matter= !ut that which e;cites him to 5i6e his personalit to the o!:ect, that which 5i6es matter to a possi!le plastic operation, for otherwise it would not !e the !eautiful for him. A remarka!le chan5e has therefore taken place in form of his :ud5ments= he searches for these o!:ects, not !ecause the affect him, !ut !ecause the furnish him with the occasion of actin5= the please him, not !ecause the answer to a want, !ut !ecause the satisf a law, which speaks in his !reast, althou5h <uite low as et. Soon it will not !e sufficient for thin5s to please him= he will wish to please: in the first place, it is true, onl ! that which !elon5s to him= afterwards ! that which he is. /hat which he possesses, that which he produces, ou5ht not merel to !ear an more the traces of ser6itude, nor to mark out the end, simpl and scrupulousl , ! the form. 1ndependentl of the use to which it is destined, the o!:ect ou5ht also to reflect the enli5htened intelli5ence which ima5ines it, the hand which shaped it with affection, the mind free and serene which chose it and e;posed it to 6iew. 2ow, the ancient 4erman searches for more ma5nificent furs, for more splendid antlers of the sta5, for more ele5ant drinkin5 horns= and the #aledonian chooses the prettiest shells for his festi6als. /he arms themsel6es ou5ht to !e no lon5er onl o!:ects of terror, !ut also of pleasure= and the skilfull worked sca!!ard will not attract less attention than the homicidal ed5e of the sword. /he instinct of pla , not satisfied with !rin5in5 into the sphere of the necessar an aesthetic supera!undance for the future more free, is at last completel emancipated from the !onds of dut , and the !eautiful !ecomes of itself an o!:ect of man3s e;ertions. He adorns himself. /he free pleasure comes to take a place amon5 his wants, and the useless soon !ecomes the !est part of his :o s. $orm, which from the outside 5raduall approaches him, in his dwellin5s, his furniture, his clothin5, !e5ins at last to take possession of the man himself, to transform him, at first e;teriorl , and afterwards in the interior. /he disordered leaps of :o !ecome the dance, the formless 5esture is chan5ed into an amia!le and harmonious pantomime,

the confused accents of feelin5 are de6eloped, and !e5in to o!e measure and adapt themsel6es to son5. >hen, like the fli5ht of cranes, the /ro:an arm rushes on to the field of !attle with thrillin5 cries, the 4reek arm approaches in silence and with a no!le and measured step. @n the one side we see !ut the e;u!erance of a !lind force, on the other the triumph of form and the simple ma:est of law. 2ow, a no!ler necessit !inds the two se;es mutuall , and the interests of the heart contri!ute in renderin5 dura!le an alliance which was at first capricious and chan5in5 like the desire that knits it. Beli6ered from the hea6 fetters of desire, the e e, now calmer, attends to the form, the soul contemplates the soul, and the interested e;chan5e of pleasure !ecomes a 5enerous e;chan5e of mutual inclination. Besire enlar5es and rises to lo6e, in proportion as it sees humanit dawn in its o!:ect= and, despisin5 the 6ile triumphs 5ained ! the senses, man tries to win a no!ler 6ictor o6er the will. /he necessit of pleasin5 su!:ects the powerful nature to the 5entle laws of taste= pleasure ma !e stolen, !ut lo6e must !e a 5ift. /o o!tain this hi5her recompense, it is onl throu5h the form and not throu5h matter that it can carr on the contest. 1t must cease to act on feelin5 as a force, to appear in the intelli5ence as a simple phaenomenon= it must respect li!ert , as it is li!ert it wishes to please. /he !eautiful reconciles the contrast of different natures in its simplest and purest e;pression. 1t also reconciles the eternal contrast of the two se;es, in the whole comple; framework of societ , or at all e6ents it seeks to do so= and, takin5 as its model the free alliance it has knit !etween manl stren5th and womanl 5entleness, it stri6es to place in harmon , in the moral world, all the elements of 5entleness and of 6iolence. 2ow, at len5th, weakness !ecomes sacred, and an un!ridled stren5th dis5races= the in:ustice of nature is corrected ! the 5enerosit of chi6alrous manners. /he !ein5 whom no power can make trem!le, is disarmed ! the amia!le !lush of modest , and tears e;tin5uish a 6en5eance that !lood could not ha6e <uenched. Hatred itself hears the delicate 6oice of honour, the con<ueror3s sword spares the disarmed enem , and a hospita!le hearth smokes for the stran5er on the dreaded hill-side where murder alone awaited him !efore. 1n the midst of the formida!le realm of forces, and of the sacred empire of laws, the aesthetic impulse of form creates ! de5rees a third and a :o ous realm, that of pla and of the appearance, where she emancipates man from fetters, in all his relations, an from all that is named constraint, whether ph sical or moral. 1f in the d namic state of ri5hts men mutuall mo6e and come into collision as forces, in the moral &ethical- state of duties, man opposes to man the ma:est of the laws, and chains down his will. 1n this realm of the !eautiful or the aesthetic state, man ou5ht to appear to man onl as a form, and an o!:ect of free pla . /o 5i6e freedom throu5h freedom is the fundamental law of this realm. /he d namic state can onl make societ simpl possi!le ! su!duin5 nature throu5h nature= the moral &ethical- state can onl make it morall necessar ! su!mittin5 the will of the indi6idual to the 5eneral will. /he aesthetic state alone can make it real, !ecause it carries out the will of all throu5h the nature of the indi6idual. 1f necessit alone forces man to enter into societ , and if this reason en5ra6es on his soul social principles, it is !eaut onl that can 5i6e him a social character= taste alone !rin5s harmon into societ , !ecause it creates harmon in the indi6idual. All other forms of perception di6ide the man, !ecause the are !ased e;clusi6el either in the sensuous or in the spiritual part of his !ein5. 1t is onl the perception of !eaut that makes of him an entiret , !ecause it demands the co-operation of his two natures. All other forms of communication di6ide societ , !ecause the appl e;clusi6el either to the recepti6it or to the pri6ate acti6it of its mem!ers, and therefore to what distin5uishes men one from the other. /he aesthetic communication alone unites societ , !ecause it applies to what is common to all its

mem!ers. >e onl en:o the pleasures of sense as indi6iduals, without the nature of the race in us sharin5 in it= accordin5l , we cannot 5eneralise our indi6idual pleasures, !ecause we cannot 5eneralise our indi6idualit . >e en:o the pleasures of knowled5e as a race, droppin5 the indi6idual in our :ud5ment= !ut we cannot 5eneralise the pleasures of the understandin5, !ecause we cannot eliminate indi6idualit from the :ud5ments of others as we do from our own. Beaut alone can we en:o !oth as indi6iduals and as a race, that is, as representin5 a race. 4ood appertainin5 to sense can onl make one person happ , !ecause it is founded on inclination, which is alwa s e;clusi6e= and it can onl make a man partiall happ , !ecause his real personalit does not share in it. A!solute 5ood can onl render a man happ conditionall , for truth is onl the reward of a!ne5ation, and a pure heart alone has faith in a pure will. Beaut alone confers happiness on all, and under its influence e6er !ein5 for5ets that he is limited. /aste does not suffer an superior or a!solute authorit , and the swa of !eaut is e;tended o6er appearance. 1t e;tends up to the seat of reason3s supremac , suppressin5 all that is material. 1t e;tends down to where sensuous impulse rules with !lind compulsion, and form is unde6eloped. /aste e6er maintains its power on these remote !orders, where le5islation is taken from it. 9articular desires must renounce their e5otism, and the a5reea!le, otherwise temptin5 the senses, must in matters of taste adorn the mind with the attractions of 5race. But and stern necessit must chan5e their for!iddin5 tone, onl e;cused ! resistance, and do homa5e to nature ! a no!ler trust in her. /aste leads our knowled5e from the m steries of science into the open e;panse of common sense, and chan5es a narrow scholasticism into the common propert of the human race. Here the hi5hest 5enius must lea6e its particular ele6ation, and make itself familiar to the comprehension e6en of a child. Stren5th must let the 4races !ind it, and the ar!itrar lion must ield to the reins of lo6e. $or this purpose taste throws a 6eil o6er ph sical necessit , offendin5 a free mind ! its coarse nudit , and dissimulatin5 our de5radin5 parenta5e with matter ! a deli5htful illusion of freedom. Mercenar art itself rises from the dust= and the !onda5e of the !odil , in its ma5ic touch, falls off from the inanimate and animate. 1n the aesthetic state the most sla6ish tool is a free citiAen, ha6in5 the same ri5hts as the no!lest= and the intellect which shapes the mass to its intent must consult it concernin5 its destination. #onse<uentl in the realm of aesthetic appearance, the idea of e<ualit is realised, which the political Aealot would 5ladl see carried out sociall . 1t has often !een said that perfect politeness is onl found near a throne. 1f thus restricted in the material, man has, as elsewhere appears, to find compensation in the ideal world. Boes such a state of !eaut in appearance e;ist, and where? 1t must !e in e6er finel harmonised soul= !ut as a fact, onl in select circles, like the pure ideal of the church and state - in circles where manners are not formed ! the empt imitations of the forei5n, !ut ! the 6er !eaut of nature= where man passes throu5h all sorts of complications in all simplicit and innocence, neither forced to trench on another3s freedom to preser6e his own, nor to show 5race at the cost of di5nit . Source: Literar and philosophical essa s: $rench, 4erman and 1talian. >ith introductions and notes. 2ew Dork, #ollier Fc'*',G Series: /he Har6ard classics, KH. /his te;t is part of the 1nternet Modern Histor Source!ook. /he Source!ook is a collection of pu!lic domain and cop -permitted te;ts for introductor le6el classes in modern European and >orld histor .

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