1788

		 THE CRITIQUE OF PRACTICAL REASON

			 by Immanuel Kant

		translated by Thomas Kingsmill Abbott

PREFACE. 

This work is called the Critique of Practical Reason, not of thepure practical reason, although its parallelism with the speculativecritique would seem to require the latter term. The reason of thisappears sufficiently from the treatise itself. Its business is to showthat there is pure practical reason, and for this purpose itcriticizes the entire practical faculty of reason. If it succeeds inthis, it has no need to criticize the pure faculty itself in orderto see whether reason in making such a claim does not presumptuouslyoverstep itself (as is the case with the speculative reason). Forif, as pure reason, it is actually practical, it proves its ownreality and that of its concepts by fact, and all disputationagainst the possibility of its being real is futile. 

With this faculty, transcendental freedom is also established;freedom, namely, in that absolute sense in which speculative reasonrequired it in its use of the concept of causality in order toescape the antinomy into which it inevitably falls, when in thechain of cause and effect it tries to think the unconditioned. Speculative reason could only exhibit this concept (of freedom)problematically as not impossible to thought, without assuring itany objective reality, and merely lest the supposed impossibility ofwhat it must at least allow to be thinkable should endanger its verybeing and plunge it into an abyss of scepticism. 

Inasmuch as the reality of the concept of freedom is proved by anapodeictic law of practical reason, it is the keystone of the wholesystem of pure reason, even the speculative, and all other concepts(those of God and immortality) which, as being mere ideas, remain init unsupported, now attach themselves to this concept, and by itobtain consistence and objective reality; that is to say, theirpossibility is proved by the fact that freedom actually exists, forthis idea is revealed by the moral law. 

Freedom, however, is the only one of all the ideas of thespeculative reason of which we know the possibility a priori (without, however, understanding it), because it is the condition of the morallaw which we know. * The ideas of God and immortality, however, arenot conditions of the moral law, but only conditions of the necessaryobject of a will determined by this law; that is to say, conditions ofthe practical use of our pure reason. Hence, with respect to theseideas, we cannot affirm that we know and understand, I will not saythe actuality, but even the possibility of them. However they arethe conditions of the application of the morally determined will toits object, which is given to it a priori, viz. , the summum bonum. Consequently in this practical point of view their possibility must beassumed, although we cannot theoretically know and understand it. Tojustify this assumption it is sufficient, in a practical point ofview, that they contain no intrinsic impossibility (contradiction). Here we have what, as far as speculative reason is concerned, is amerely subjective principle of assent, which, however, isobjectively valid for a reason equally pure but practical, and thisprinciple, by means of the concept of freedom, assures objectivereality and authority to the ideas of God and immortality. Nay, there is a subjective necessity (a need of pure reason) to assumethem. Nevertheless the theoretical knowledge of reason is not herebyenlarged, but only the possibility is given, which heretofore wasmerely a problem and now becomes assertion, and thus the practical useof reason is connected with the elements of theoretical reason. Andthis need is not a merely hypothetical one for the arbitrarypurposes of speculation, that we must assume something if we wish inspeculation to carry reason to its utmost limits, but it is a needwhich has the force of law to assume something without which thatcannot be which we must inevitably set before us as the aim of ouraction. 

 {PREFACE ^paragraph 5}

* Lest any one should imagine that he finds an inconsistency herewhen I call freedom the condition of the moral law, and hereaftermaintain in the treatise itself that the moral law is the conditionunder which we can first become conscious of freedom, I will merelyremark that freedom is the ratio essendi of the moral law, while themoral law is the ratio cognoscendi of freedom. For Pad not the morallaw been previously distinctly thought in our reason, we shouldnever consider ourselves justified in assuming such a thing asfreedom, although it be not contradictory. But were there no freedomit would be impossible to trace the moral law in ourselves at all. 

It would certainly be more satisfactory to our speculative reason ifit could solve these problems for itself without this circuit andpreserve the solution for practical use as a thing to be referredto, but in fact our faculty of speculation is not so well provided. Those who boast of such high knowledge ought not to keep it back, but to exhibit it publicly that it may be tested and appreciated. Theywant to prove: very good, let them prove; and the criticalphilosophy lays its arms at their feet as the victors. Quid statis?Nolint. Atqui licet esse beatis. As they then do not in fact choose todo so, probably because they cannot, we must take up these armsagain in order to seek in the mortal use of reason, and to base onthis, the notions of God, freedom, and immortality, the possibility ofwhich speculation cannot adequately prove. 

Here first is explained the enigma of the critical philosophy, viz. :how we deny objective reality to the supersensible use of thecategories in speculation and yet admit this reality with respect tothe objects of pure practical reason. This must at first seeminconsistent as long as this practical use is only nominally known. But when, by a thorough analysis of it, one becomes aware that thereality spoken of does not imply any theoretical determination ofthe categories and extension of our knowledge to the supersensible;but that what is meant is that in this respect an object belongs tothem, because either they are contained in the necessary determinationof the will a priori, or are inseparably connected with its object;then this inconsistency disappears, because the use we make of theseconcepts is different from what speculative reason requires. On theother hand, there now appears an unexpected and very satisfactoryproof of the consistency of the speculative critical philosophy. Forwhereas it insisted that the objects of experience as such, including our own subject, have only the value of phenomena, whileat the same time things in themselves must be supposed as their basis, so that not everything supersensible was to be regarded as a fictionand its concept as empty; so now practical reason itself, withoutany concert with the speculative, assures reality to a supersensibleobject of the category of causality, viz. , freedom, although (asbecomes a practical concept) only for practical use; and thisestablishes on the evidence of a fact that which in the former casecould only be conceived. By this the strange but certain doctrine ofthe speculative critical philosophy, that the thinking subject is toitself in internal intuition only a phenomenon, obtains in thecritical examination of the practical reason its full confirmation, and that so thoroughly that we should be compelled to adopt thisdoctrine, even if the former had never proved it at all. *

 {PREFACE ^paragraph 10}

* The union of causality as freedom with causality as rationalmechanism, the former established by the moral law, the latter bythe law of nature in the same subject, namely, man, is impossible, unless we conceive him with reference to the former as a being inhimself, and with reference to the latter as a phenomenon- theformer in pure consciousness, the latter in empirical consciousness. Otherwise reason inevitably contradicts itself. 

By this also I can understand why the most considerable objectionswhich I have as yet met with against the Critique turn about these twopoints, namely, on the one side, the objective reality of thecategories as applied to noumena, which is in the theoreticaldepartment of knowledge denied, in the practical affirmed; and onthe other side, the paradoxical demand to regard oneself qua subjectof freedom as a noumenon, and at the same time from the point ofview of physical nature as a phenomenon in one's own empiricalconsciousness; for as long as one has formed no definite notions ofmorality and freedom, one could not conjecture on the one side whatwas intended to be the noumenon, the basis of the allegedphenomenon, and on the other side it seemed doubtful whether it was atall possible to form any notion of it, seeing that we had previouslyassigned all the notions of the pure understanding in itstheoretical use exclusively to phenomena. Nothing but a detailedcriticism of the practical reason can remove all thismisapprehension and set in a clear light the consistency whichconstitutes its greatest merit. 

So much by way of justification of the proceeding by which, inthis work, the notions and principles of pure speculative reason whichhave already undergone their special critical examination are, now andthen, again subjected to examination. This would not in other cases bein accordance with the systematic process by which a science isestablished, since matters which have been decided ought only to becited and not again discussed. In this case, however, it was notonly allowable but necessary, because reason is here considered intransition to a different use of these concepts from what it hadmade of them before. Such a transition necessitates a comparison ofthe old and the new usage, in order to distinguish well the new pathfrom the old one and, at the same time, to allow their connection tobe observed. Accordingly considerations of this kind, includingthose which are once more directed to the concept of freedom in thepractical use of the pure reason, must not be regarded as aninterpolation serving only to fill up the gaps in the criticalsystem of speculative reason (for this is for its own purposecomplete), or like the props and buttresses which in a hastilyconstructed building are often added afterwards; but as true memberswhich make the connexion of the system plain, and show us concepts, here presented as real, which there could only be presentedproblematically. This remark applies especially to the concept offreedom, respecting which one cannot but observe with surprise that somany boast of being able to understand it quite well and to explainits possibility, while they regard it only psychologically, whereas ifthey had studied it in a transcendental point of view, they musthave recognized that it is not only indispensable as a problematicalconcept, in the complete use of speculative reason, but also quiteincomprehensible; and if they afterwards came to consider itspractical use, they must needs have come to the very mode ofdetermining the principles of this, to which they are now so loth toassent. The concept of freedom is the stone of stumbling for allempiricists, but at the same time the key to the loftiest practicalprinciples for critical moralists, who perceive by its means that theymust necessarily proceed by a rational method. For this reason I begthe reader not to pass lightly over what is said of this concept atthe end of the Analytic. 

I must leave it to those who are acquainted with works of thiskind to judge whether such a system as that of the practical reason, which is here developed from the critical examination of it, hascost much or little trouble, especially in seeking not to miss thetrue point of view from which the whole can be rightly sketched. Itpresupposes, indeed, the Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic ofMorals, but only in so far as this gives a preliminary acquaintancewith the principle of duty, and assigns and justifies a definiteformula thereof; in other respects it is independent. * It resultsfrom the nature of this practical faculty itself that the completeclassification of all practical sciences cannot be added, as in thecritique of the speculative reason. For it is not possible to defineduties specially, as human duties, with a view to theirclassification, until the subject of this definition (viz. , man) isknown according to his actual nature, at least so far as isnecessary with respect to duty; this, however, does not belong to acritical examination of the practical reason, the business of which isonly to assign in a complete manner the principles of its possibility, extent, and limits, without special reference to human nature. Theclassification then belongs to the system of science, not to thesystem of criticism. 

 {PREFACE ^paragraph 15}

* A reviewer who wanted to find some fault with this work has hitthe truth better, perhaps, than he thought, when he says that no newprinciple of morality is set forth in it, but only a new formula. But who would think of introducing a new principle of all morality andmaking himself as it were the first discoverer of it, just as if allthe world before him were ignorant what duty was or had been inthorough-going error? But whoever knows of what importance to amathematician a formula is, which defines accurately what is to bedone to work a problem, will not think that a formula is insignificantand useless which does the same for all duty in general. 

In the second part of the Analytic I have given, as I trust, asufficient answer to the objection of a truth-loving and acutecritic * of the Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic of Morals- acritic always worthy of respect- the objection, namely, that thenotion of good was not established before the moral principle, as hethinks it ought to have been. *(2) I have also had regard to many ofthe objections which have reached me from men who show that they haveat heart the discovery of the truth, and I shall continue to do so(for those who have only their old system before their eyes, and whohave already settled what is to be approved or disapproved, do notdesire any explanation which might stand in the way of their ownprivate opinion. )

 {PREFACE ^paragraph 20}

* [See Kant's "Das mag in der Theoric ricktig seyn, " etc. Werke, vol. Vii, p. 182. ]

*(2) It might also have been objected to me that I have not firstdefined the notion of the faculty of desire, or of the feeling ofPleasure, although this reproach would be unfair, because thisdefinition might reasonably be presupposed as given in psychology. However, the definition there given might be such as to found thedetermination of the faculty of desire on the feeling of pleasure(as is commonly done), and thus the supreme principle of practicalphilosophy would be necessarily made empirical, which, however, remains to be proved and in this critique is altogether refuted. Itwill, therefore, give this definition here in such a manner as itought to be given, in order to leave this contested point open atthe beginning, as it should be. LIFE is the faculty a being has ofacting according to laws of the faculty of desire. The faculty ofDESIRE is the being's faculty of becoming by means of its ideas thecause of the actual existence of the objects of these ideas. PLEASURE is the idea of the agreement of the object, or the actionwith the subjective conditions of life, i. E. , with the faculty ofcausality of an idea in respect of the actuality of its object (orwith the determination of the forces of the subject to action whichproduces it). I have no further need for the purposes of this critiqueof notions borrowed from psychology; the critique itself suppliesthe rest. It is easily seen that the question whether the faculty ofdesire is always based on pleasure, or whether under certainconditions pleasure only follows the determination of desire, is bythis definition left undecided, for it is composed only of termsbelonging to the pure understanding, i. E. , of categories which containnothing empirical. Such precaution is very desirable in all philosophyand yet is often neglected; namely, not to prejudge questions byadventuring definitions before the notion has been completelyanalysed, which is often very late. It may be observed through thewhole course of the critical philosophy (of the theoretical as well asthe practical reason) that frequent opportunity offers of supplyingdefects in the old dogmatic method of philosophy, and of correctingerrors which are not observed until we make such rational use of thesenotions viewing them as a whole. 

When we have to study a particular faculty of the human mind inits sources, its content, and its limits; then from the nature ofhuman knowledge we must begin with its parts, with an accurate andcomplete exposition of them; complete, namely, so far as is possiblein the present state of our knowledge of its elements. But there isanother thing to be attended to which is of a more philosophical andarchitectonic character, namely, to grasp correctly the idea of thewhole, and from thence to get a view of all those parts as mutuallyrelated by the aid of pure reason, and by means of their derivationfrom the concept of the whole. This is only possible through themost intimate acquaintance with the system; and those who find thefirst inquiry too troublesome, and do not think it worth their whileto attain such an acquaintance, cannot reach the second stage, namely, the general view, which is a synthetical return to that which hadpreviously been given analytically. It is no wonder then if theyfind inconsistencies everywhere, although the gaps which theseindicate are not in the system itself, but in their own incoherenttrain of thought. 

I have no fear, as regards this treatise, of the reproach that Iwish to introduce a new language, since the sort of knowledge herein question has itself somewhat of an everyday character. Nor evenin the case of the former critique could this reproach occur to anyonewho had thought it through and not merely turned over the leaves. Toinvent new words where the language has no lack of expressions forgiven notions is a childish effort to distinguish oneself from thecrowd, if not by new and true thoughts, yet by new patches on theold garment. If, therefore, the readers of that work know any morefamiliar expressions which are as suitable to the thought as thoseseem to me to be, or if they think they can show the futility of thesethoughts themselves and hence that of the expression, they would, inthe first case, very much oblige me, for I only desire to beunderstood: and, in the second case, they would deserve well ofphilosophy. But, as long as these thoughts stand, I very much doubtthat suitable and yet more common expressions for them can be found. *

 {PREFACE ^paragraph 25}

* I am more afraid in the present treatise of occasionalmisconception in respect of some expressions which I have chosenwith the greatest care in order that the notion to which they pointmay not be missed. Thus, in the table of categories of the Practicalreason under the title of Modality, the Permitted, and forbidden (in apractical objective point of view, possible and impossible) havealmost the same meaning in common language as the next category, duty and contrary to duty. Here, however, the former means whatcoincides with, or contradicts, a merely possible practical precept(for example, the solution of all problems of geometry and mechanics);the latter, what is similarly related to a law actually present in thereason; and this distinction is not quite foreign even to commonlanguage, although somewhat unusual. For example, it is forbidden toan orator, as such, to forge new words or constructions; in acertain degree this is permitted to a poet; in neither case is thereany question of duty. For if anyone chooses to forfeit hisreputation as an orator, no one can prevent him. We have here onlyto do with the distinction of imperatives into problematical, assertorial, and apodeictic. Similarly in the note in which I havepared the moral ideas of practical perfection in differentphilosophical schools, I have distinguished the idea of wisdom fromthat of holiness, although I have stated that essentially andobjectively they are the same. But in that place I understand by theformer only that wisdom to which man (the Stoic) lays claim; thereforeI take it subjectively as an attribute alleged to belong to man. (Perhaps the expression virtue, with which also the made great show, would better mark the characteristic of his school. ) The expression ofa postulate of pure practical reason might give most occasion tomisapprehension in case the reader confounded it with thesignification of the postulates in pure mathematics, which carryapodeictic certainty with them. These, however, postulate thepossibility of an action, the object of which has been previouslyrecognized a priori in theory as possible, and that with perfectcertainty. But the former postulates the possibility of an objectitself (God and the immortality of the soul) from apodeictic practicallaws, and therefore only for the purposes of a practical reason. This certainty of the postulated possibility then is not at alltheoretic, and consequently not apodeictic; that is to say, it isnot a known necessity as regards the object, but a necessarysupposition as regards the subject, necessary for the obedience to itsobjective but practical laws. It is, therefore, merely a necessaryhypothesis. I could find no better expression for this rationalnecessity, which is subjective, but yet true and unconditional. 

In this manner, then, the a priori principles of two faculties ofthe mind, the faculty of cognition and that of desire, would befound and determined as to the conditions, extent, and limits of theiruse, and thus a sure foundation be paid for a scientific system ofphilosophy, both theoretic and practical. 

Nothing worse could happen to these labours than that anyoneshould make the unexpected discovery that there neither is, nor canbe, any a priori knowledge at all. But there is no danger of this. This would be the same thing as if one sought to prove by reasonthat there is no reason. For we only say that we know something byreason, when we are conscious that we could have known it, even ifit had not been given to us in experience; hence rational knowledgeand knowledge a priori are one and the same. It is a clearcontradiction to try to extract necessity from a principle ofexperience (ex pumice aquam), and to try by this to give a judgementtrue universality (without which there is no rational inference, noteven inference from analogy, which is at least a presumed universalityand objective necessity). To substitute subjective necessity, that is, custom, for objective, which exists only in a priori judgements, is todeny to reason the power of judging about the object, i. E. , of knowingit, and what belongs to it. It implies, for example, that we mustnot say of something which often or always follows a certainantecedent state that we can conclude from this to that (for thiswould imply objective necessity and the notion of an a prioriconnexion), but only that we may expect similar cases (just as animalsdo), that is that we reject the notion of cause altogether as falseand a mere delusion. As to attempting to remedy this want of objectiveand consequently universal validity by saying that we can see noground for attributing any other sort of knowledge to other rationalbeings, if this reasoning were valid, our ignorance would do morefor the enlargement of our knowledge than all our meditation. For, then, on this very ground that we have no knowledge of any otherrational beings besides man, we should have a right to suppose them tobe of the same nature as we know ourselves to be: that is, we shouldreally know them. I omit to mention that universal assent does notprove the objective validity of a judgement (i. E. , its validity as acognition), and although this universal assent should accidentallyhappen, it could furnish no proof of agreement with the object; on thecontrary, it is the objective validity which alone constitutes thebasis of a necessary universal consent. 

 {PREFACE ^paragraph 30}

Hume would be quite satisfied with this system of universalempiricism, for, as is well known, he desired nothing more thanthat, instead of ascribing any objective meaning to the necessity inthe concept of cause, a merely subjective one should be assumed, viz. , custom, in order to deny that reason could judge about God, freedom, and immortality; and if once his principles were granted, he wascertainly well able to deduce his conclusions therefrom, with alllogical coherence. But even Hume did not make his empiricism souniversal as to include mathematics. He holds the principles ofmathematics to be analytical; and if his were correct, they wouldcertainly be apodeictic also: but we could not infer from this thatreason has the faculty of forming apodeictic judgements inphilosophy also- that is to say, those which are syntheticaljudgements, like the judgement of causality. But if we adopt auniversal empiricism, then mathematics will be included. 

Now if this science is in contradiction with a reason that admitsonly empirical principles, as it inevitably is in the antinomy inwhich mathematics prove the infinite divisibility of space, whichempiricism cannot admit; then the greatest possible evidence ofdemonstration is in manifest contradiction with the allegedconclusions from experience, and we are driven to ask, likeCheselden's blind patient, "Which deceives me, sight or touch?" (forempiricism is based on a necessity felt, rationalism on a necessityseen). And thus universal empiricism reveals itself as absolutescepticism. It is erroneous to attribute this in such an unqualifiedsense to Hume, * since he left at least one certain touchstone (whichcan only be found in a priori principles), although experienceconsists not only of feelings, but also of judgements. 

* Names that designate the followers of a sect have always beenaccompanied with much injustice; just as if one said, "N is anIdealist. " For although he not only admits, but even insists, that ourideas of external things have actual objects of external thingscorresponding to them, yet he holds that the form of the intuitiondoes not depend on them but on the human mind. 

 {PREFACE ^paragraph 35}

However, as in this philosophical and critical age such empiricismcan scarcely be serious, and it is probably put forward only as anintellectual exercise and for the purpose of putting in a clearerlight, by contrast, the necessity of rational a priori principles, we can only be grateful to those who employ themselves in thisotherwise uninstructive labour. 

INTRODUCTION

 INTRODUCTION. 

 Of the Idea of a Critique of Practical Reason. 

The theoretical use of reason was concerned with objects of thecognitive faculty only, and a critical examination of it withreference to this use applied properly only to the pure faculty ofcognition; because this raised the suspicion, which was afterwardsconfirmed, that it might easily pass beyond its limits, and be lostamong unattainable objects, or even contradictory notions. It is quitedifferent with the practical use of reason. In this, reason isconcerned with the grounds of determination of the will, which is afaculty either to produce objects corresponding to ideas, or todetermine ourselves to the effecting of such objects (whether thephysical power is sufficient or not); that is, to determine ourcausality. For here, reason can at least attain so far as to determinethe will, and has always objective reality in so far as it is thevolition only that is in question. The first question here then iswhether pure reason of itself alone suffices to determine the will, orwhether it can be a ground of determination only as dependent onempirical conditions. Now, here there comes in a notion of causalityjustified by the critique of the pure reason, although not capableof being presented empirically, viz. , that of freedom; and if we cannow discover means of proving that this property does in fact belongto the human will (and so to the will of all rational beings), then itwill not only be shown that pure reason can be practical, but thatit alone, and not reason empirically limited, is indubitablypractical; consequently, we shall have to make a critical examination, not of pure practical reason, but only of practical reasongenerally. For when once pure reason is shown to exist, it needs nocritical examination. For reason itself contains the standard forthe critical examination of every use of it. The critique, then, ofpractical reason generally is bound to prevent the empiricallyconditioned reason from claiming exclusively to furnish the groundof determination of the will. If it is proved that there is a[practical] reason, its employment is alone immanent; theempirically conditioned use, which claims supremacy, is on thecontrary transcendent and expresses itself in demands and preceptswhich go quite beyond its sphere. This is just the opposite of whatmight be said of pure reason in its speculative employment. 

However, as it is still pure reason, the knowledge of which ishere the foundation of its practical employment, the general outlineof the classification of a critique of practical reason must bearranged in accordance with that of the speculative. We must, then, have the Elements and the Methodology of it; and in the former anAnalytic as the rule of truth, and a Dialectic as the exposition anddissolution of the illusion in the judgements of practical reason. Butthe order in the subdivision of the Analytic will be the reverse ofthat in the critique of the pure speculative reason. For, in thepresent case, we shall commence with the principles and proceed to theconcepts, and only then, if possible, to the senses; whereas in thecase of the speculative reason we began with the senses and had to endwith the principles. The reason of this lies again in this: that nowwe have to do with a will, and have to consider reason, not in itsrelation to objects, but to this will and its causality. We must, then, begin with the principles of a causality not empiricallyconditioned, after which the attempt can be made to establish ournotions of the determining grounds of such a will, of theirapplication to objects, and finally to the subject and its sensefaculty. We necessarily begin with the law of causality fromfreedom, that is, with a pure practical principle, and this determinesthe objects to which alone it can be applied. 

BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1

 FIRST PART. 

 ELEMENTS OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 

 BOOK I. The Analytic of Pure Practical Reason. 

 CHAPTER I. Of the Principles of Pure Practical Reason. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 5}

 I. DEFINITION. 

Practical principles are propositions which contain a generaldetermination of the will, having under it several practical rules. They are subjective, or maxims, when the condition is regarded bythe subject as valid only for his own will, but are objective, orpractical laws, when the condition is recognized as objective, thatis, valid for the will of every rational being. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 10}

 REMARK. 

Supposing that pure reason contains in itself a practical motive, that is, one adequate to determine the will, then there arepractical laws; otherwise all practical principles will be meremaxims. In case the will of a rational being is pathologicallyaffected, there may occur a conflict of the maxims with thepractical laws recognized by itself. For example, one may make ithis maxim to let no injury pass unrevenged, and yet he may see thatthis is not a practical law, but only his own maxim; that, on thecontrary, regarded as being in one and the same maxim a rule for thewill of every rational being, it must contradict itself. In naturalphilosophy the principles of what happens, e. G. , the principle ofequality of action and reaction in the communication of motion) are atthe same time laws of nature; for the use of reason there istheoretical and determined by the nature of the object. In practicalphilosophy, i. E. , that which has to do only with the grounds ofdetermination of the will, the principles which a man makes forhimself are not laws by which one is inevitably bound; becausereason in practical matters has to do with the subject, namely, withthe faculty of desire, the special character of which may occasionvariety in the rule. The practical rule is always a product of reason, because it prescribes action as a means to the effect. But in the caseof a being with whom reason does not of itself determine the will, this rule is an imperative, i. E. , a rule characterized by "shall, "which expresses the objective necessitation of the action andsignifies that, if reason completely determined the will, the actionwould inevitably take place according to this rule. Imperatives, therefore, are objectively valid, and are quite distinct frommaxims, which are subjective principles. The former either determinethe conditions of the causality of the rational being as anefficient cause, i. E. , merely in reference to the effect and the meansof attaining it; or they determine the will only, whether it isadequate to the effect or not. The former would be hypotheticalimperatives, and contain mere precepts of skill; the latter, on thecontrary, would be categorical, and would alone be practical laws. Thus maxims are principles, but not imperatives. Imperativesthemselves, however, when they are conditional (i. E. , do not determinethe will simply as will, but only in respect to a desired effect, thatis, when they are hypothetical imperatives), are practical preceptsbut not laws. Laws must be sufficient to determine the will as will, even before I ask whether I have power sufficient for a desiredeffect, or the means necessary to produce it; hence they arecategorical: otherwise they are not laws at all, because the necessityis wanting, which, if it is to be practical, must be independent ofconditions which are pathological and are therefore onlycontingently connected with the will. Tell a man, for example, that hemust be industrious and thrifty in youth, in order that he may notwant in old age; this is a correct and important practical preceptof the will. But it is easy to see that in this case the will isdirected to something else which it is presupposed that it desires;and as to this desire, we must leave it to the actor himself whetherhe looks forward to other resources than those of his own acquisition, or does not expect to be old, or thinks that in case of futurenecessity he will be able to make shift with little. Reason, fromwhich alone can spring a rule involving necessity, does, indeed, give necessity to this precept (else it would not be an imperative), but this is a necessity dependent on subjective conditions, and cannotbe supposed in the same degree in all subjects. But that reason maygive laws it is necessary that it should only need to presupposeitself, because rules are objectively and universally valid onlywhen they hold without any contingent subjective conditions, whichdistinguish one rational being from another. Now tell a man that heshould never make a deceitful promise, this is a rule which onlyconcerns his will, whether the purposes he may have can be attainedthereby or not; it is the volition only which is to be determined apriori by that rule. If now it is found that this rule ispractically right, then it is a law, because it is a categoricalimperative. Thus, practical laws refer to the will only, withoutconsidering what is attained by its causality, and we may disregardthis latter (as belonging to the world of sense) in order to have themquite pure. 

 II. THEOREM I. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 15}

All practical principles which presuppose an object (matter) ofthe faculty of desire as the ground of determination of the will areempirical and can furnish no practical laws. 

By the matter of the faculty of desire I mean an object therealization of which is desired. Now, if the desire for this objectprecedes the practical rule and is the condition of our making it aprinciple, then I say (in the first place) this principle is in thatcase wholly empirical, for then what determines the choice is the ideaof an object and that relation of this idea to the subject by whichits faculty of desire is determined to its realization. Such arelation to the subject is called the pleasure in the realization ofan object. This, then, must be presupposed as a condition of thepossibility of determination of the will. But it is impossible to knowa priori of any idea of an object whether it will be connected withpleasure or pain, or be indifferent. In such cases, therefore, thedetermining principle of the choice must be empirical and, therefore, also the practical material principle which presupposesit as a condition. 

In the second place, since susceptibility to a pleasure or paincan be known only empirically and cannot hold in the same degree forall rational beings, a principle which is based on this subjectivecondition may serve indeed as a maxim for the subject whichpossesses this susceptibility, but not as a law even to him (becauseit is wanting in objective necessity, which must be recognized apriori); it follows, therefore, that such a principle can neverfurnish a practical law. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 20}

 III. THEOREM II. 

All material practical principles as such are of one and the samekind and come under the general principle of self-love or privatehappiness. 

Pleasure arising from the idea of the idea of the existence of athing, in so far as it is to determine the desire of this thing, isfounded on the susceptibility of the subject, since it depends onthe presence of an object; hence it belongs to sense (feeling), andnot to understanding, which expresses a relation of the idea to anobject according to concepts, not to the subject according tofeelings. It is, then, practical only in so far as the faculty ofdesire is determined by the sensation of agreeableness which thesubject expects from the actual existence of the object. Now, arational being's consciousness of the pleasantness of lifeuninterruptedly accompanying his whole existence is happiness; and theprinciple which makes this the supreme ground of determination ofthe will is the principle of self-love. All material principles, then, which place the determining ground of the will in the pleasure or painto be received from the existence of any object are all of the samekind, inasmuch as they all belong to the principle of self-love orprivate happiness. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 25}

 COROLLARY. 

All material practical rules place the determining principle ofthe will in the lower desires; and if there were no purely formal lawsof the will adequate to determine it, then we could not admit anyhigher desire at all. 

 REMARK I. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 30}

It is surprising that men, otherwise acute, can think it possible todistinguish between higher and lower desires, according as the ideaswhich are connected with the feeling of pleasure have their originin the senses or in the understanding; for when we inquire what arethe determining grounds of desire, and place them in some expectedpleasantness, it is of no consequence whence the idea of this pleasingobject is derived, but only how much it pleases. Whether an idea hasits seat and source in the understanding or not, if it can onlydetermine the choice by presupposing a feeling of pleasure in thesubject, it follows that its capability of determining the choicedepends altogether on the nature of the inner sense, namely, that thiscan be agreeably affected by it. However dissimilar ideas of objectsmay be, though they be ideas of the understanding, or even of thereason in contrast to ideas of sense, yet the feeling of pleasure, by means of which they constitute the determining principle of thewill (the expected satisfaction which impels the activity to theproduction of the object), is of one and the same kind, not onlyinasmuch as it can only be known empirically, but also inasmuch asit affects one and the same vital force which manifests itself inthe faculty of desire, and in this respect can only differ in degreefrom every other ground of determination. Otherwise, how could wecompare in respect of magnitude two principles of determination, theideas of which depend upon different faculties, so as to prefer thatwhich affects the faculty of desire in the highest degree. The sameman may return unread an instructive book which he cannot againobtain, in order not to miss a hunt; he may depart in the midst of afine speech, in order not to be late for dinner; he may leave arational conversation, such as he otherwise values highly, to take hisplace at the gaming-table; he may even repulse a poor man whom he atother times takes pleasure in benefiting, because he has only justenough money in his pocket to pay for his admission to the theatre. Ifthe determination of his will rests on the feeling of theagreeableness or disagreeableness that he expects from any cause, itis all the same to him by what sort of ideas he will be affected. The only thing that concerns him, in order to decide his choice, is, how great, how long continued, how easily obtained, and how oftenrepeated, this agreeableness is. Just as to the man who wants money tospend, it is all the same whether the gold was dug out of the mountainor washed out of the sand, provided it is everywhere accepted at thesame value; so the man who cares only for the enjoyment of life doesnot ask whether the ideas are of the understanding or the senses, but only how much and how great pleasure they will give for thelongest time. It is only those that would gladly deny to pure reasonthe power of determining the will, without the presupposition of anyfeeling, who could deviate so far from their own exposition as todescribe as quite heterogeneous what they have themselves previouslybrought under one and the same principle. Thus, for example, it isobserved that we can find pleasure in the mere exercise of power, inthe consciousness of our strength of mind in overcoming obstacleswhich are opposed to our designs, in the culture of our mentaltalents, etc. ; and we justly call these more refined pleasures andenjoyments, because they are more in our power than others; they donot wear out, but rather increase the capacity for further enjoymentof them, and while they delight they at the same time cultivate. Butto say on this account that they determine the will in a different wayand not through sense, whereas the possibility of the pleasurepresupposes a feeling for it implanted in us, which is the firstcondition of this satisfaction; this is just as when ignorantpersons that like to dabble in metaphysics imagine matter so subtle, so supersubtle that they almost make themselves giddy with it, andthen think that in this way they have conceived it as a spiritualand yet extended being. If with Epicurus we make virtue determinethe will only by means of the pleasure it promises, we cannotafterwards blame him for holding that this pleasure is of the samekind as those of the coarsest senses. For we have no reason whateverto charge him with holding that the ideas by which this feeling isexcited in us belong merely to the bodily senses. As far as can beconjectured, he sought the source of many of them in the use of thehigher cognitive faculty, but this did not prevent him, and couldnot prevent him, from holding on the principle above stated, thatthe pleasure itself which those intellectual ideas give us, and bywhich alone they can determine the will, is just of the same kind. Consistency is the highest obligation of a philosopher, and yet themost rarely found. The ancient Greek schools give us more examplesof it than we find in our syncretistic age, in which a certain shallowand dishonest system of compromise of contradictory principles isdevised, because it commends itself better to a public which iscontent to know something of everything and nothing thoroughly, soas to please every party. 

The principle of private happiness, however much understanding andreason may be used in it, cannot contain any other determiningprinciples for the will than those which belong to the lowerdesires; and either there are no [higher] desires at all, or purereason must of itself alone be practical; that is, it must be ableto determine the will by the mere form of the practical rule withoutsupposing any feeling, and consequently without any idea of thepleasant or unpleasant, which is the matter of the desire, and whichis always an empirical condition of the principles. Then only, whenreason of itself determines the will (not as the servant of theinclination), it is really a higher desire to which that which ispathologically determined is subordinate, and is really, and evenspecifically, distinct from the latter, so that even the slightestadmixture of the motives of the latter impairs its strength andsuperiority; just as in a mathematical demonstration the leastempirical condition would degrade and destroy its force and value. Reason, with its practical law, determines the will immediately, notby means of an intervening feeling of pleasure or pain, not even ofpleasure in the law itself, and it is only because it can, as purereason, be practical, that it is possible for it to be legislative. 

 REMARK II. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 35}

To be happy is necessarily the wish of every finite rationalbeing, and this, therefore, is inevitably a determining principle ofits faculty of desire. For we are not in possession originally ofsatisfaction with our whole existence- a bliss which would imply aconsciousness of our own independent self-sufficiency this is aproblem imposed upon us by our own finite nature, because we havewants and these wants regard the matter of our desires, that is, something that is relative to a subjective feeling of pleasure orpain, which determines what we need in order to be satisfied withour condition. But just because this material principle ofdetermination can only be empirically known by the subject, it isimpossible to regard this problem as a law; for a law beingobjective must contain the very same principle of determination of thewill in all cases and for all rational beings. For, although thenotion of happiness is in every case the foundation of practicalrelation of the objects to the desires, yet it is only a generalname for the subjective determining principles, and determines nothingspecifically; whereas this is what alone we are concerned with in thispractical problem, which cannot be solved at all without such specificdetermination. For it is every man's own special feeling of pleasureand pain that decides in what he is to place his happiness, and evenin the same subject this will vary with the difference of his wantsaccording as this feeling changes, and thus a law which issubjectively necessary (as a law of nature) is objectively a verycontingent practical principle, which can and must be very differentin different subjects and therefore can never furnish a law; since, inthe desire for happiness it is not the form (of conformity to law)that is decisive, but simply the matter, namely, whether I am toexpect pleasure in following the law, and how much. Principles ofself-love may, indeed, contain universal precepts of skill (how tofind means to accomplish one's purpose), but in that case they aremerely theoretical principles; * as, for example, how he who wouldlike to eat bread should contrive a mill; but practical preceptsfounded on them can never be universal, for the determining principleof the desire is based on the feeling pleasure and pain, which cannever be supposed to be universally directed to the same objects. 

* Propositions which in mathematics or physics are called practicalought properly to be called technical. For they have nothing to dowith the determination of the will; they only point out how a certaineffect is to be produced and are, therefore, just as theoretical asany propositions which express the connection of a cause with aneffect. Now whoever chooses the effect must also choose the cause. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 40}

Even supposing, however, that all finite rational beings werethoroughly agreed as to what were the objects of their feelings ofpleasure and pain, and also as to the means which they must employto attain the one and avoid the other; still, they could by no meansset up the principle of self-love as a practical law, for thisunanimity itself would be only contingent. The principle ofdetermination would still be only subjectively valid and merelyempirical, and would not possess the necessity which is conceived inevery law, namely, an objective necessity arising from a priorigrounds; unless, indeed, we hold this necessity to be not at allpractical, but merely physical, viz. , that our action is as inevitablydetermined by our inclination, as yawning when we see others yawn. It would be better to maintain that there are no practical laws atall, but only counsels for the service of our desires, than to raisemerely subjective principles to the rank of practical laws, which haveobjective necessity, and not merely subjective, and which must beknown by reason a priori, not by experience (however empiricallyuniversal this may be). Even the rules of corresponding phenomenaare only called laws of nature (e. G. , the mechanical laws), when weeither know them really a priori, or (as in the case of chemical laws)suppose that they would be known a priori from objective grounds ifour insight reached further. But in the case of merely subjectivepractical principles, it is expressly made a condition that they rest, not on objective, but on subjective conditions of choice, and hencethat they must always be represented as mere maxims, never aspractical laws. This second remark seems at first sight to be mereverbal refinement, but it defines the terms of the most importantdistinction which can come into consideration in practicalinvestigations. 

 IV. THEOREM II. 

A rational being cannot regard his maxims as practical universallaws, unless he conceives them as principles which determine the will, not by their matter, but by their form only. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 45}

By the matter of a practical principle I mean the object of thewill. This object is either the determining ground of the will or itis not. In the former case the rule of the will is subjected to anempirical condition (viz. , the relation of the determining idea to thefeeling of pleasure and pain), consequently it can not be apractical law. Now, when we abstract from a law all matter, i. E. , every object of the will (as a determining principle), nothing is leftbut the mere form of a universal legislation. Therefore, either arational being cannot conceive his subjective practical principles, that is, his maxims, as being at the same time universal laws, or hemust suppose that their mere form, by which they are fitted foruniversal legislation, is alone what makes them practical laws. 

 REMARK. 

The commonest understanding can distinguish without instruction whatform of maxim is adapted for universal legislation, and what is not. Suppose, for example, that I have made it my maxim to increase myfortune by every safe means. Now, I have a deposit in my hands, theowner of which is dead and has left no writing about it. This isjust the case for my maxim. I desire then to know whether that maximcan also bold good as a universal practical law. I apply it, therefore, to the present case, and ask whether it could take the formof a law, and consequently whether I can by my maxim at the sametime give such a law as this, that everyone may deny a deposit ofwhich no one can produce a proof. I at once become aware that such aprinciple, viewed as a law, would annihilate itself, because theresult would be that there would be no deposits. A practical law whichI recognise as such must be qualified for universal legislation;this is an identical proposition and, therefore, self-evident. Now, ifI say that my will is subject to a practical law, I cannot adduce myinclination (e. G. , in the present case my avarice) as a principle ofdetermination fitted to be a universal practical law; for this is sofar from being fitted for a universal legislation that, if put inthe form of a universal law, it would destroy itself. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 50}

It is, therefore, surprising that intelligent men could have thoughtof calling the desire of happiness a universal practical law on theground that the desire is universal, and, therefore, also the maxim bywhich everyone makes this desire determine his will. For whereas inother cases a universal law of nature makes everything harmonious;here, on the contrary, if we attribute to the maxim the universalityof a law, the extreme opposite of harmony will follow, the greatestopposition and the complete destruction of the maxim itself and itspurpose. For, in that case, the will of all has not one and the sameobject, but everyone has his own (his private welfare), which mayaccidentally accord with the purposes of others which are equallyselfish, but it is far from sufficing for a law; because theoccasional exceptions which one is permitted to make are endless, and cannot be definitely embraced in one universal rule. In thismanner, then, results a harmony like that which a certain satiricalpoem depicts as existing between a married couple bent on going toruin, "O, marvellous harmony, what he wishes, she wishes also"; orlike what is said of the pledge of Francis I to the Emperor Charles V, "What my brother Charles wishes that I wish also" (viz. , Milan). Empirical principles of determination are not fit for any universalexternal legislation, but just as little for internal; for each manmakes his own subject the foundation of his inclination, and in thesame subject sometimes one inclination, sometimes another, has thepreponderance. To discover a law which would govern them all underthis condition, namely, bringing them all into harmony, is quiteimpossible. 

 V. PROBLEM I. 

Supposing that the mere legislative form of maxims is alone thesufficient determining principle of a will, to find the nature ofthe will which can be determined by it alone. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 55}

 Since the bare form of the law can only be conceived by reason, andis, therefore, not an object of the senses, and consequently doesnot belong to the class of phenomena, it follows that the idea ofit, which determines the will, is distinct from all the principlesthat determine events in nature according to the law of causality, because in their case the determining principles must themselves bephenomena. Now, if no other determining principle can serve as a lawfor the will except that universal legislative form, such a willmust be conceived as quite independent of the natural law of phenomenain their mutual relation, namely, the law of causality; suchindependence is called freedom in the strictest, that is, in thetranscendental, sense; consequently, a will which can have its lawin nothing but the mere legislative form of the maxim is a free will. 

 VI. PROBLEM II. 

Supposing that a will is free, to find the law which alone iscompetent to determine it necessarily. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 60}

Since the matter of the practical law, i. E. , an object of the maxim, can never be given otherwise than empirically, and the free will isindependent on empirical conditions (that is, conditions belongingto the world of sense) and yet is determinable, consequently a freewill must find its principle of determination in the law, and yetindependently of the matter of the law. But, besides the matter of thelaw, nothing is contained in it except the legislative form. It is thelegislative form, then, contained in the maxim, which can aloneconstitute a principle of determination of the [free] will. 

 REMARK. 

Thus freedom and an unconditional practical law reciprocally implyeach other. Now I do not ask here whether they are in fact distinct, or whether an unconditioned law is not rather merely the consciousnessof a pure practical reason and the latter identical with thepositive concept of freedom; I only ask, whence begins our knowledgeof the unconditionally practical, whether it is from freedom or fromthe practical law? Now it cannot begin from freedom, for of this wecannot be immediately conscious, since the first concept of it isnegative; nor can we infer it from experience, for experience gives usthe knowledge only of the law of phenomena, and hence of the mechanismof nature, the direct opposite of freedom. It is therefore the morallaw, of which we become directly conscious (as soon as we trace forourselves maxims of the will), that first presents itself to us, andleads directly to the concept of freedom, inasmuch as reasonpresents it as a principle of determination not to be outweighed byany sensible conditions, nay, wholly independent of them. But how isthe consciousness, of that moral law possible? We can become consciousof pure practical laws just as we are conscious of pure theoreticalprinciples, by attending to the necessity with which reason prescribesthem and to the elimination of all empirical conditions, which itdirects. The concept of a pure will arises out of the former, asthat of a pure understanding arises out of the latter. That this isthe true subordination of our concepts, and that it is morality thatfirst discovers to us the notion of freedom, hence that it ispractical reason which, with this concept, first proposes tospeculative reason the most insoluble problem, thereby placing it inthe greatest perplexity, is evident from the followingconsideration: Since nothing in phenomena can be explained by theconcept of freedom, but the mechanism of nature must constitute theonly clue; moreover, when pure reason tries to ascend in the series ofcauses to the unconditioned, it falls into an antinomy which isentangled in incomprehensibilities on the one side as much as theother; whilst the latter (namely, mechanism) is at least useful in theexplanation of phenomena, therefore no one would ever have been sorash as to introduce freedom into science, had not the moral law, and with it practical reason, come in and forced this notion uponus. Experience, however, confirms this order of notions. Supposesome one asserts of his lustful appetite that, when the desired objectand the opportunity are present, it is quite irresistible. [Askhim]- if a gallows were erected before the house where he finds thisopportunity, in order that he should be hanged thereon immediatelyafter the gratification of his lust, whether he could not then controlhis passion; we need not be long in doubt what he would reply. Askhim, however- if his sovereign ordered him, on pain of the sameimmediate execution, to bear false witness against an honourableman, whom the prince might wish to destroy under a plausiblepretext, would he consider it possible in that case to overcome hislove of life, however great it may be. He would perhaps not venture toaffirm whether he would do so or not, but he must unhesitatingly admitthat it is possible to do so. He judges, therefore, that he can do acertain thing because he is conscious that he ought, and he recognizesthat he is free- a fact which but for the moral law he would neverhave known. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 65}

 VII. FUNDAMENTAL LAW OF THE PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 

Act so that the maxim of thy will can always at the same time holdgood as a principle of universal legislation. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 70}

 REMARK. 

Pure geometry has postulates which are practical propositions, butcontain nothing further than the assumption that we can do somethingif it is required that we should do it, and these are the onlygeometrical propositions that concern actual existence. They are, then, practical rules under a problematical condition of the will; buthere the rule says: We absolutely must proceed in a certain manner. The practical rule is, therefore, unconditional, and hence it isconceived a priori as a categorically practical proposition by whichthe will is objectively determined absolutely and immediately (bythe practical rule itself, which thus is in this case a law); for purereason practical of itself is here directly legislative. The will isthought as independent on empirical conditions, and, therefore, aspure will determined by the mere form of the law, and this principleof determination is regarded as the supreme condition of all maxims. The thing is strange enough, and has no parallel in all the rest ofour practical knowledge. For the a priori thought of a possibleuniversal legislation which is therefore merely problematical, isunconditionally commanded as a law without borrowing anything fromexperience or from any external will. This, however, is not aprecept to do something by which some desired effect can be attained(for then the will would depend on physical conditions), but a rulethat determines the will a priori only so far as regards the formsof its maxims; and thus it is at least not impossible to conceive thata law, which only applies to the subjective form of principles, yetserves as a principle of determination by means of the objectiveform of law in general. We may call the consciousness of thisfundamental law a fact of reason, because we cannot reason it out fromantecedent data of reason, e. G. , the consciousness of freedom (forthis is not antecedently given), but it forces itself on us as asynthetic a priori proposition, which is not based on any intuition, either pure or empirical. It would, indeed, be analytical if thefreedom of the will were presupposed, but to presuppose freedom as apositive concept would require an intellectual intuition, which cannothere be assumed; however, when we regard this law as given, it must beobserved, in order not to fall into any misconception, that it isnot an empirical fact, but the sole fact of the pure reason, whichthereby announces itself as originally legislative (sic volo, sicjubeo). 

 COROLLARY. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 75}

Pure reason is practical of itself alone and gives (to man) auniversal law which we call the moral law. 

 REMARK. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 80}

The fact just mentioned is undeniable. It is only necessary toanalyse the judgement that men pass on the lawfulness of theiractions, in order to find that, whatever inclination may say to thecontrary, reason, incorruptible and selfconstrained, alwaysconfronts the maxim of the will in any action with the pure will, thatis, with itself, considering itself as a priori practical. Now thisprinciple of morality, just on account of the universality of thelegislation which makes it the formal supreme determining principle ofthe will, without regard to any subjective differentes, is declared bythe reason to be a law for all rational beings, in so far as they havea will, that is, a power to determine their causality by theconception of rules; and, therefore, so far as they are capable ofacting according to principles, and consequently also according topractical a priori principles (for these alone have the necessity thatreason requires in a principle). It is, therefore, not limited tomen only, but applies to all finite beings that possess reason andwill; nay, it even includes the Infinite Being as the supremeintelligence. In the former case, however, the law has the form ofan imperative, because in them, as rational beings, we can suppose apure will, but being creatures affected with wants and physicalmotives, not a holy will, that is, one which would be incapable of anymaxim conflicting with the moral law. In their case, therefore, themoral law is an imperative, which commands categorically, becausethe law is unconditioned; the relation of such a will to this law isdependence under the name of obligation, which implies a constraint toan action, though only by reason and its objective law; and thisaction is called duty, because an elective will, subject topathological affections (though not determined by them, and, therefore, still free), implies a wish that arises from subjectivecauses and, therefore, may often be opposed to the pure objectivedetermining principle; whence it requires the moral constraint of aresistance of the practical reason, which may be called an internal, but intellectual, compulsion. In the supreme intelligence the electivewill is rightly conceived as incapable of any maxim which could not atthe same time be objectively a law; and the notion of holiness, which on that account belongs to it, places it, not indeed above allpractical laws, but above all practically restrictive laws, andconsequently above obligation and duty. This holiness of will is, however, a practical idea, which must necessarily serve as a type towhich finite rational beings can only approximate indefinitely, andwhich the pure moral law, which is itself on this account called holy, constantly and rightly holds before their eyes. The utmost that finitepractical reason can effect is to be certain of this indefiniteprogress of one's maxims and of their steady disposition to advance. This is virtue, and virtue, at least as a naturally acquiredfaculty, can never be perfect, because assurance in such a casenever becomes apodeictic certainty and, when it only amounts topersuasion, is very dangerous. 

 VIII. THEOREM IV. 

The autonomy of the will is the sole principle of all moral laws andof all duties which conform to them; on the other hand, heteronomyof the elective will not only cannot be the basis of any obligation, but is, on the contrary, opposed to the principle thereof and to themorality of the will. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 85}

In fact the sole principle of morality consists in theindependence on all matter of the law (namely, a desired object), and in the determination of the elective will by the mere universallegislative form of which its maxim must be capable. Now thisindependence is freedom in the negative sense, and thisself-legislation of the pure, and therefore practical, reason isfreedom in the positive sense. Thus the moral law expresses nothingelse than the autonomy of the pure practical reason; that is, freedom;and this is itself the formal condition of all maxims, and on thiscondition only can they agree with the supreme practical law. Iftherefore the matter of the volition, which can be nothing else thanthe object of a desire that is connected with the law, enters into thepractical law, as the condition of its possibility, there resultsheteronomy of the elective will, namely, dependence on the physicallaw that we should follow some impulse or inclination. In that casethe will does not give itself the law, but only the precept howrationally to follow pathological law; and the maxim which, in sucha case, never contains the universally legislative form, not onlyproduces no obligation, but is itself opposed to the principle of apure practical reason and, therefore, also to the moral disposition, even though the resulting action may be conformable to the law. 

 REMARK. 

Hence a practical precept, which contains a material (andtherefore empirical) condition, must never be reckoned a practicallaw. For the law of the pure will, which is free, brings the will intoa sphere quite different from the empirical; and as the necessityinvolved in the law is not a physical necessity, it can only consistin the formal conditions of the possibility of a law in general. Allthe matter of practical rules rests on subjective conditions, whichgive them only a conditional universality (in case I desire this orthat, what I must do in order to obtain it), and they all turn onthe principle of private happiness. Now, it is indeed undeniablethat every volition must have an object, and therefore a matter; butit does not follow that this is the determining principle and thecondition of the maxim; for, if it is so, then this cannot beexhibited in a universally legislative form, since in that case theexpectation of the existence of the object would be the determiningcause of the choice, and the volition must presuppose the dependenceof the faculty of desire on the existence of something; but thisdependence can only be sought in empirical conditions and, therefore, can never furnish a foundation for a necessary anduniversal rule. Thus, the happiness of others may be the object of thewill of a rational being. But if it were the determining principleof the maxim, we must assume that we find not only a rationalsatisfaction in the welfare of others, but also a want such as thesympathetic disposition in some men occasions. But I cannot assume theexistence of this want in every rational being (not at all in God). The matter, then, of the maxim may remain, but it must not be thecondition of it, else the maxim could not be fit for a law. Hence, themere form of law, which limits the matter, must also be a reason foradding this matter to the will, not for presupposing it. Forexample, let the matter be my own happiness. This (rule), if Iattribute it to everyone (as, in fact, I may, in the case of everyfinite being), can become an objective practical law only if I includethe happiness of others. Therefore, the law that we should promote thehappiness of others does not arise from the assumption that this is anobject of everyone's choice, but merely from this, that the form ofuniversality which reason requires as the condition of giving to amaxim of self-love the objective validity of a law is the principlethat determines the will. Therefore it was not the object (thehappiness of others) that determined the pure will, but it was theform of law only, by which I restricted my maxim, founded oninclination, so as to give it the universality of a law, and thus toadapt it to the practical reason; and it is this restriction alone, and not the addition of an external spring, that can give rise tothe notion of the obligation to extend the maxim of my self-love tothe happiness of others. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 90}

 REMARK II. 

The direct opposite of the principle of morality is, when theprinciple of private happiness is made the determining principle ofthe will, and with this is to be reckoned, as I have shown above, everything that places the determining principle which is to serveas a law, anywhere but in the legislative form of the maxim. Thiscontradiction, however, is not merely logical, like that which wouldarise between rules empirically conditioned, if they were raised tothe rank of necessary principles of cognition, but is practical, andwould ruin morality altogether were not the voice of reason inreference to the will so clear, so irrepressible, so distinctlyaudible, even to the commonest men. It can only, indeed, be maintainedin the perplexing speculations of the schools, which are bold enoughto shut their ears against that heavenly voice, in order to supporta theory that costs no trouble. 

Suppose that an acquaintance whom you otherwise liked were toattempt to justify himself to you for having borne false witness, first by alleging the, in his view, sacred duty of consulting hisown happiness; then by enumerating the advantages which he hadgained thereby, pointing out the prudence he had shown in securinghimself against detection, even by yourself, to whom he now revealsthe secret, only in order that he may be able to deny it at anytime; and suppose he were then to affirm, in all seriousness, thathe has fulfilled a true human duty; you would either laugh in hisface, or shrink back from him with disgust; and yet, if a man hasregulated his principles of action solely with a view to his ownadvantage, you would have nothing whatever to object against this modeof proceeding. Or suppose some one recommends you a man as steward, asa man to whom you can blindly trust all your affairs; and, in order toinspire you with confidence, extols him as a prudent man whothoroughly understands his own interest, and is so indefatigablyactive that he lets slip no opportunity of advancing it; lastly, lest you should be afraid of finding a vulgar selfishness in him, praises the good taste with which he lives; not seeking his pleasurein money-making, or in coarse wantonness, but in the enlargement ofhis knowledge, in instructive intercourse with a select circle, andeven in relieving the needy; while as to the means (which, ofcourse, derive all their value from the end), he is not particular, and is ready to use other people's money for the purpose as if it werehis own, provided only he knows that he can do so safely, andwithout discovery; you would either believe that the recommender wasmocking you, or that he had lost his senses. So sharply and clearlymarked are the boundaries of morality and self-love that even thecommonest eye cannot fail to distinguish whether a thing belongs tothe one or the other. The few remarks that follow may appearsuperfluous where the truth is so plain, but at least they may serveto give a little more distinctness to the judgement of common sense. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 95}

The principle of happiness may, indeed, furnish maxims, but neversuch as would be competent to be laws of the will, even if universalhappiness were made the object. For since the knowledge of thisrests on mere empirical data, since every man's judgement on itdepends very much on his particular point of view, which is itselfmoreover very variable, it can supply only general rules, notuniversal; that is, it can give rules which on the average will mostfrequently fit, but not rules which must hold good always andnecessarily; hence, no practical laws can be founded on it. Justbecause in this case an object of choice is the foundation of the ruleand must therefore precede it, the rule can refer to nothing butwhat is [felt], and therefore it refers to experience and is foundedon it, and then the variety of judgement must be endless. Thisprinciple, therefore, does not prescribe the same practical rules toall rational beings, although the rules are all included under acommon title, namely, that of happiness. The moral law, however, isconceived as objectively necessary, only because it holds for everyonethat has reason and will. 

The maxim of self-love (prudence) only advises; the law ofmorality commands. Now there is a great difference between thatwhich we are advised to do and that to which we are obliged. 

The commonest intelligence can easily and without hesitation seewhat, on the principle of autonomy of the will, requires to be done;but on supposition of heteronomy of the will, it is hard andrequires knowledge of the world to see what is to be done. That isto say, what duty is, is plain of itself to everyone; but what is tobring true durable advantage, such as will extend to the whole ofone's existence, is always veiled in impenetrable obscurity; andmuch prudence is required to adapt the practical rule founded on it tothe ends of life, even tolerably, by making proper exceptions. But themoral law commands the most punctual obedience from everyone; it must, therefore, not be so difficult to judge what it requires to be done, that the commonest unpractised understanding, even without worldlyprudence, should fail to apply it rightly. 

It is always in everyone's power to satisfy the categoricalcommand of morality; whereas it is seldom possible, and by no means soto everyone, to satisfy the empirically conditioned precept ofhappiness, even with regard to a single purpose. The reason is that inthe former case there is question only of the maxim, which must begenuine and pure; but in the latter case there is question also ofone's capacity and physical power to realize a desired object. Acommand that everyone should try to make himself happy would befoolish, for one never commands anyone to do what he of himselfinfallibly wishes to do. We must only command the means, or rathersupply them, since he cannot do everything that he wishes. But tocommand morality under the name of duty is quite rational; for, in thefirst place, not everyone is willing to obey its precepts if theyoppose his inclinations; and as to the means of obeying this law, these need not in this case be taught, for in this respect whatever hewishes to do be can do. 

He who has lost at play may be vexed at himself and his folly, butif he is conscious of having cheated at play (although he has gainedthereby), he must despise himself as soon as he compares himselfwith the moral law. This must, therefore, be something differentfrom the principle of private happiness. For a man must have adifferent criterion when he is compelled to say to himself: "I am aworthless fellow, though I have filled my purse"; and when he approveshimself, and says: "I am a prudent man, for I have enriched mytreasure. "

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 100}

Finally, there is something further in the idea of our practicalreason, which accompanies the transgression of a moral law- namely, its ill desert. Now the notion of punishment, as such, cannot beunited with that of becoming a partaker of happiness; for althoughhe who inflicts the punishment may at the same time have thebenevolent purpose of directing this punishment to this end, yet itmust first be justified in itself as punishment, i. E. , as mere harm, so that if it stopped there, and the person punished could get noglimpse of kindness hidden behind this harshness, he must yet admitthat justice was done him, and that his reward was perfectlysuitable to his conduct. In every punishment, as such, there mustfirst be justice, and this constitutes the essence of the notion. Benevolence may, indeed, be united with it, but the man who hasdeserved punishment has not the least reason to reckon upon this. Punishment, then, is a physical evil, which, though it be notconnected with moral evil as a natural consequence, ought to beconnected with it as a consequence by the principles of a morallegislation. Now, if every crime, even without regarding thephysical consequence with respect to the actor, is in itselfpunishable, that is, forfeits happiness (at least partially), it isobviously absurd to say that the crime consisted just in this, that behas drawn punishment on himself, thereby injuring his privatehappiness (which, on the principle of self-love, must be the propernotion of all crime). According to this view, the punishment wouldbe the reason for calling anything a crime, and justice would, onthe contrary, consist in omitting all punishment, and evenpreventing that which naturally follows; for, if this were done, therewould no longer be any evil in the action, since the harm whichotherwise followed it, and on account of which alone the action wascalled evil, would now be prevented. To look, however, on allrewards and punishments as merely the machinery in the hand of ahigher power, which is to serve only to set rational creaturesstriving after their final end (happiness), this is to reduce the willto a mechanism destructive of freedom; this is so evident that it neednot detain us. 

More refined, though equally false, is the theory of those whosuppose a certain special moral sense, which sense and not reasondetermines the moral law, and in consequence of which theconsciousness of virtue is supposed to be directly connected withcontentment and pleasure; that of vice, with mental dissatisfactionand pain; thus reducing the whole to the desire of privatehappiness. Without repeating what has been said above, I will hereonly remark the fallacy they fall into. In order to imagine thevicious man as tormented with mental dissatisfaction by theconsciousness of his transgressions, they must first represent himas in the main basis of his character, at least in some degree, morally good; just as he who is pleased with the consciousness ofright conduct must be conceived as already virtuous. The notion ofmorality and duty must, therefore, have preceded any regard to thissatisfaction, and cannot be derived from it. A man must firstappreciate the importance of what we call duty, the authority of themoral law, and the immediate dignity which the following of it givesto the person in his own eyes, in order to feel that satisfaction inthe consciousness of his conformity to it and the bitter remorsethat accompanies the consciousness of its transgression. It is, therefore, impossible to feel this satisfaction or dissatisfactionprior to the knowledge of obligation, or to make it the basis of thelatter. A man must be at least half honest in order even to be able toform a conception of these feelings. I do not deny that as the humanwill is, by virtue of liberty, capable of being immediately determinedby the moral law, so frequent practice in accordance with thisprinciple of determination can, at least, produce subjectively afeeling of satisfaction; on the contrary, it is a duty to establishand to cultivate this, which alone deserves to be called properlythe moral feeling; but the notion of duty cannot be derived from it, else we should have to suppose a feeling for the law as such, and thusmake that an object of sensation which can only be thought by thereason; and this, if it is not to be a flat contradiction, woulddestroy all notion of duty and put in its place a mere mechanical playof refined inclinations sometimes contending with the coarser. 

If now we compare our formal supreme principle of pure practicalreason (that of autonomy of the will) with all previous materialprinciples of morality, we can exhibit them all in a table in whichall possible cases are exhausted, except the one formal principle; andthus we can show visibly that it is vain to look for any otherprinciple than that now proposed. In fact all possible principles ofdetermination of the will are either merely subjective, andtherefore empirical, or are also objective and rational; and bothare either external or internal. 

Practical Material Principles of Determination taken as theFoundation of Morality, are:

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 105}

 SUBJECTIVE. 

 EXTERNAL INTERNAL

 Education Physical feeling

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 110}

 (Montaigne) (Epicurus)

 The civil Moral feeling

 Constitution (Hutcheson)

 (Mandeville)

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 115}

 OBJECTIVE. 

 INTERNAL EXTERNAL

 Perfection Will of God

 (Wolf and the (Crusius and other

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 120}

 Stoics) theological Moralists)

Those of the upper table are all empirical and evidently incapableof furnishing the universal principle of morality; but those in thelower table are based on reason (for perfection as a quality ofthings, and the highest perfection conceived as substance, that is, God, can only be thought by means of rational concepts). But theformer notion, namely, that of perfection, may either be taken in atheoretic signification, and then it means nothing but thecompleteness of each thing in its own kind (transcendental), or thatof a thing merely as a thing (metaphysical); and with that we arenot concerned here. But the notion of perfection in a practicalsense is the fitness or sufficiency of a thing for all sorts ofpurposes. This perfection, as a quality of man and consequentlyinternal, is nothing but talent and, what strengthens or completesthis, skill. Supreme perfection conceived as substance, that is God, and consequently external (considered practically), is the sufficiencyof this being for all ends. Ends then must first be given, relatively to which only can the notion of perfection (whetherinternal in ourselves or external in God) be the determining principleof the will. But an end- being an object which must precede thedetermination of the will by a practical rule and contain the groundof the possibility of this determination, and therefore contain alsothe matter of the will, taken as its determining principle- such anend is always empirical and, therefore, may serve for the Epicureanprinciple of the happiness theory, but not for the pure rationalprinciple of morality and duty. Thus, talents and the improvement ofthem, because they contribute to the advantages of life; or the willof God, if agreement with it be taken as the object of the will, without any antecedent independent practical principle, can be motivesonly by reason of the happiness expected therefrom. Hence itfollows, first, that all the principles here stated are material;secondly, that they include all possible material principles; and, finally, the conclusion, that since material principles are quiteincapable of furnishing the supreme moral law (as has been shown), theformal practical principle the pure reason (according to which themere form of a universal legislation must constitute the supreme andimmediate determining principle of the will) is the only onepossible which is adequate to furnish categorical imperatives, thatis, practical laws (which make actions a duty), and in general toserve as the principle of morality, both in criticizing conduct andalso in its application to the human will to determine it. 

I. Of the Deduction of the Fundamental Principles of PurePractical Reason. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 125}

This Analytic shows that pure reason can be practical, that is, can of itself determine the will independently of anythingempirical; and this it proves by a fact in which pure reason in usproves itself actually practical, namely, the autonomy shown in thefundamental principle of morality, by which reason determines the willto action. 

It shows at the same time that this fact is inseparably connectedwith the consciousness of freedom of the will, nay, is identicalwith it; and by this the will of a rational being, although asbelonging to the world of sense it recognizes itself as necessarilysubject to the laws of causality like other efficient causes; yet, at the same time, on another side, namely, as a being in itself, isconscious of existing in and being determined by an intelligible orderof things; conscious not by virtue of a special intuition of itself, but by virtue of certain dynamical laws which determine itscausality in the sensible world; for it has been elsewhere proved thatif freedom is predicated of us, it transports us into anintelligible order of things. 

Now, if we compare with this the analytical part of the critiqueof pure speculative reason, we shall see a remarkable contrast. There it was not fundamental principles, but pure, sensibleintuition (space and time), that was the first datum that made apriori knowledge possible, though only of objects of the senses. Synthetical principles could not be derived from mere concepts withoutintuition; on the contrary, they could only exist with reference tothis intuition, and therefore to objects of possible experience, sinceit is the concepts of the understanding, united with this intuition, which alone make that knowledge possible which we call experience. Beyond objects of experience, and therefore with regard to things asnoumena, all positive knowledge was rightly disclaimed for speculativereason. This reason, however, went so far as to establish withcertainty the concept of noumena; that is, the possibility, nay, thenecessity, of thinking them; for example, it showed against allobjections that the supposition of freedom, negatively considered, wasquite consistent with those principles and limitations of puretheoretic reason. But it could not give us any definite enlargement ofour knowledge with respect to such objects, but, on the contrary, cut off all view of them altogether. 

On the other hand, the moral law, although it gives no view, yetgives us a fact absolutely inexplicable from any data of thesensible world, and the whole compass of our theoretical use ofreason, a fact which points to a pure world of the understanding, nay, even defines it positively and enables us to know something of it, namely, a law. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 130}

This law (as far as rational beings are concerned) gives to theworld of sense, which is a sensible system of nature, the form of aworld of the understanding, that is, of a supersensible system ofnature, without interfering with its mechanism. Now, a system ofnature, in the most general sense, is the existence of things underlaws. The sensible nature of rational beings in general is theirexistence under laws empirically conditioned, which, from the point ofview of reason, is heteronomy. The supersensible nature of the samebeings, on the other hand, is their existence according to lawswhich are independent of every empirical condition and, therefore, belong to the autonomy of pure reason. And, since the laws by whichthe existence of things depends on cognition are practical, supersensible nature, so far as we can form any notion of it, isnothing else than a system of nature under the autonomy of purepractical reason. Now, the law of this autonomy is the moral law, which, therefore, is the fundamental law of a supersensible nature, and of a pure world of understanding, whose counterpart must existin the world of sense, but without interfering with its laws. We mightcall the former the archetypal world (natura archetypa), which we onlyknow in the reason; and the latter the ectypal world (naturaectypa), because it contains the possible effect of the idea of theformer which is the determining principle of the will. For the morallaw, in fact, transfers us ideally into a system in which pure reason, if it were accompanied with adequate physical power, would produce thesummum bonum, and it determines our will to give the sensible worldthe form of a system of rational beings. 

The least attention to oneself proves that this idea really servesas the model for the determinations of our will. 

When the maxim which I am disposed to follow in giving testimonyis tested by the practical reason, I always consider what it wouldbe if it were to hold as a universal law of nature. It is manifestthat in this view it would oblige everyone to speak the truth. Forit cannot hold as a universal law of nature that statements shouldbe allowed to have the force of proof and yet to be purposelyuntrue. Similarly, the maxim which I adopt with respect to disposingfreely of my life is at once determined, when I ask myself what itshould be, in order that a system, of which it is the law, shouldmaintain itself. It is obvious that in such a system no one couldarbitrarily put an end to his own life, for such an arrangementwould not be a permanent order of things. And so in all similar cases. Now, in nature, as it actually is an object of experience, the freewill is not of itself determined to maxims which could of themselvesbe the foundation of a natural system of universal laws, or whichcould even be adapted to a system so constituted; on the contrary, itsmaxims are private inclinations which constitute, indeed, a naturalwhole in conformity with pathological (physical) laws, but could notform part of a system of nature, which would only be possiblethrough our will acting in accordance with pure practical laws. Yet weare, through reason, conscious of a law to which all our maxims aresubject, as though a natural order must be originated from our will. This law, therefore, must be the idea of a natural system not given inexperience, and yet possible through freedom; a system, therefore, which is supersensible, and to which we give objective reality, atleast in a practical point of view, since we look on it as an objectof our will as pure rational beings. 

Hence the distinction between the laws of a natural system towhich the will is subject, and of a natural system which is subject toa will (as far as its relation to its free actions is concerned), rests on this, that in the former the objects must be causes of theideas which determine the will; whereas in the latter the will isthe cause of the objects; so that its causality has its determiningprinciple solely in the pure faculty of reason, which may therefore becalled a pure practical reason. 

There are therefore two very distinct problems: how, on the oneside, pure reason can cognise objects a priori, and how on the otherside it can be an immediate determining principle of the will, thatis, of the causality of the rational being with respect to the realityof objects (through the mere thought of the universal validity ofits own maxims as laws). 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 135}

The former, which belongs to the critique of the pure speculativereason, requires a previous explanation, how intuitions withoutwhich no object can be given, and, therefore, none knownsynthetically, are possible a priori; and its solution turns out to bethat these are all only sensible and, therefore, do not renderpossible any speculative knowledge which goes further than possibleexperience reaches; and that therefore all the principles of that purespeculative reason avail only to make experience possible; eitherexperience of given objects or of those that may be given adinfinitum, but never are completely given. 

The latter, which belongs to the critique of practical reason, requires no explanation how the objects of the faculty of desire arepossible, for that being a problem of the theoretical knowledge ofnature is left to the critique of the speculative reason, but only howreason can determine the maxims of the will; whether this takesplace only by means of empirical ideas as principles of determination, or whether pure reason can be practical and be the law of a possibleorder of nature, which is not empirically knowable. The possibility ofsuch a supersensible system of nature, the conception of which canalso be the ground of its reality through our own free will, doesnot require any a priori intuition (of an intelligible world) which, being in this case supersensible, would be impossible for us. Forthe question is only as to the determining principle of volition inits maxims, namely, whether it is empirical, or is a conception of thepure reason (having the legal character belonging to it in general), and how it can be the latter. It is left to the theoretic principlesof reason to decide whether the causality of the will suffices for therealization of the objects or not, this being an inquiry into thepossibility of the objects of the volition. Intuition of these objectsis therefore of no importance to the practical problem. We are hereconcerned only with the determination of the will and thedetermining principles of its maxims as a free will, not at all withthe result. For, provided only that the will conforms to the law ofpure reason, then let its power in execution be what it may, whetheraccording to these maxims of legislation of a possible system ofnature any such system really results or not, this is no concern ofthe critique, which only inquires whether, and in what way, purereason can be practical, that is directly determine the will. 

In this inquiry criticism may and must begin with pure practicallaws and their reality. But instead of intuition it takes as theirfoundation the conception of their existence in the intelligibleworld, namely, the concept of freedom. For this concept has no othermeaning, and these laws are only possible in relation to freedom ofthe will; but freedom being supposed, they are necessary; orconversely freedom is necessary because those laws are necessary, being practical postulates. It cannot be further explained how thisconsciousness of the moral law, or, what is the same thing, offreedom, is possible; but that it is admissible is well established inthe theoretical critique. 

The exposition of the supreme principle of practical reason is nowfinished; that is to say, it has been- shown first, what itcontains, that it subsists for itself quite a priori and independentof empirical principles; and next in what it is distinguished from allother practical principles. With the deduction, that is, thejustification of its objective and universal validity, and thediscernment of the possibility of such a synthetical proposition apriori, we cannot expect to succeed so well as in the case of theprinciples of pure theoretical reason. For these referred to objectsof possible experience, namely, to phenomena, and we could provethat these phenomena could be known as objects of experience only bybeing brought under the categories in accordance with these laws;and consequently that all possible experience must conform to theselaws. But I could not proceed in this way with the deduction of themoral law. For this does not concern the knowledge of the propertiesof objects, which may be given to the reason from some other source;but a knowledge which can itself be the ground of the existence of theobjects, and by which reason in a rational being has causality, i. E. , pure reason, which can be regarded as a faculty immediatelydetermining the will. 

Now all our human insight is at an end as soon as we have arrived atfundamental powers or faculties, for the possibility of these cannotbe understood by any means, and just as little should it bearbitrarily invented and assumed. Therefore, in the theoretic use ofreason, it is experience alone that can justify us in assuming them. But this expedient of adducing empirical proofs, instead of adeduction from a priori sources of knowledge, is denied us here inrespect to the pure practical faculty of reason. For whatever requiresto draw the proof of its reality from experience must depend for thegrounds of its possibility on principles of experience; and pure, yet practical, reason by its very notion cannot be regarded as such. Further, the moral law is given as a fact of pure reason of which weare a priori conscious, and which is apodeictically certain, though itbe granted that in experience no example of its exact fulfilment canbe found. Hence, the objective reality of the moral law cannot beproved by any deduction by any efforts of theoretical reason, whether speculative or empirically supported, and therefore, even ifwe renounced its apodeictic certainty, it could not be proved aposteriori by experience, and yet it is firmly established of itself. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 140}

But instead of this vainly sought deduction of the moralprinciple, something else is found which was quite unexpected, namely, that this moral principle serves conversely as the principle of thededuction of an inscrutable faculty which no experience could prove, but of which speculative reason was compelled at least to assume thepossibility (in order to find amongst its cosmological ideas theunconditioned in the chain of causality, so as not to contradictitself)- I mean the faculty of freedom. The moral law, which itselfdoes not require a justification, proves not merely the possibility offreedom, but that it really belongs to beings who recognize this lawas binding on themselves. The moral law is in fact a law of thecausality of free agents and, therefore, of the possibility of asupersensible system of nature, just as the metaphysical law of eventsin the world of sense was a law of causality of the sensible system ofnature; and it therefore determines what speculative philosophy wascompelled to leave undetermined, namely, the law for a causality, the concept of which in the latter was only negative; and thereforefor the first time gives this concept objective reality. 

This sort of credential of the moral law, viz. , that it is set forthas a principle of the deduction of freedom, which is a causality ofpure reason, is a sufficient substitute for all a priorijustification, since theoretic reason was compelled to assume at leastthe possibility of freedom, in order to satisfy a want of its own. Forthe moral law proves its reality, so as even to satisfy the critiqueof the speculative reason, by the fact that it adds a positivedefinition to a causality previously conceived only negatively, thepossibility of which was incomprehensible to speculative reason, whichyet was compelled to suppose it. For it adds the notion of a reasonthat directly determines the will (by imposing on its maxims thecondition of a universal legislative form); and thus it is able forthe first time to give objective, though only practical, reality toreason, which always became transcendent when it sought to proceedspeculatively with its ideas. It thus changes the transcendent useof reason into an immanent use (so that reason is itself, by meansof ideas, an efficient cause in the field of experience). 

The determination of the causality of beings in the world ofsense, as such, can never be unconditioned; and yet for every seriesof conditions there must be something unconditioned, and thereforethere must be a causality which is determined wholly by itself. Hence, the idea of freedom as a faculty of absolute spontaneity was not foundto be a want but, as far as its possibility is concerned, ananalytic principle of pure speculative reason. But as it is absolutelyimpossible to find in experience any example in accordance with thisidea, because amongst the causes of things as phenomena it would beimpossible to meet with any absolutely unconditioned determinationof causality, we were only able to defend our supposition that afreely acting cause might be a being in the world of sense, in sofar as it is considered in the other point of view as a noumenon, showing that there is no contradiction in regarding all its actions assubject to physical conditions so far as they are phenomena, and yetregarding its causality as physically unconditioned, in so far asthe acting being belongs to the world of understanding, and in thusmaking the concept of freedom the regulative principle of reason. Bythis principle I do not indeed learn what the object is to whichthat sort of causality is attributed; but I remove the difficulty, for, on the one side, in the explanation of events in the world, andconsequently also of the actions of rational beings, I leave to themechanism of physical necessity the right of ascending fromconditioned to condition ad infinitum, while on the other side Ikeep open for speculative reason the place which for it is vacant, namely, the intelligible, in order to transfer the unconditionedthither. But I was not able to verify this supposition; that is, tochange it into the knowledge of a being so acting, not even into theknowledge of the possibility of such a being. This vacant place is nowfilled by pure practical reason with a definite law of causality in anintelligible world (causality with freedom), namely, the moral law. Speculative reason does not hereby gain anything as regards itsinsight, but only as regards the certainty of its problematical notionof freedom, which here obtains objective reality, which, though onlypractical, is nevertheless undoubted. Even the notion of causality-the application, and consequently the signification, of which holdsproperly only in relation to phenomena, so as to connect them intoexperiences (as is shown by the Critique of Pure Reason)- is not soenlarged as to extend its use beyond these limits. For if reasonsought to do this, it would have to show how the logical relation ofprinciple and consequence can be used synthetically in a differentsort of intuition from the sensible; that is how a causa noumenon ispossible. This it can never do; and, as practical reason, it doesnot even concern itself with it, since it only places thedetermining principle of causality of man as a sensible creature(which is given) in pure reason (which is therefore called practical);and therefore it employs the notion of cause, not in order to knowobjects, but to determine causality in relation to objects in general. It can abstract altogether from the application of this notion toobjects with a view to theoretical knowledge (since this concept isalways found a priori in the understanding even independently of anyintuition). Reason, then, employs it only for a practical purpose, andhence we can transfer the determining principle of the will into theintelligible order of things, admitting, at the same time, that wecannot understand how the notion of cause can determine theknowledge of these things. But reason must cognise causality withrespect to the actions of the will in the sensible world in a definitemanner; otherwise, practical reason could not really produce anyaction. But as to the notion which it forms of its own causality asnoumenon, it need not determine it theoretically with a view to thecognition of its supersensible existence, so as to give itsignificance in this way. For it acquires significance apart fromthis, though only for practical use, namely, through the moral law. Theoretically viewed, it remains always a pure a priori concept of theunderstanding, which can be applied to objects whether they havebeen given sensibly or not, although in the latter case it has nodefinite theoretical significance or application, but is only aformal, though essential, conception of the understanding relatingto an object in general. The significance which reason gives itthrough the moral law is merely practical, inasmuch as the idea of theidea of the law of causality (of the will) has self causality, or isits determining principle. 

II. Of the Right that Pure Reason in its Practical use has to anExtension which is not possible to it in its Speculative Use. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 145}

We have in the moral principle set forth a law of causality, thedetermining principle of which is set above all the conditions ofthe sensible world; we have it conceived how the will, as belonging tothe intelligible world, is determinable, and therefore we therefore wehave its subject (man) not merely conceived as belonging to a world ofpure understanding, and in this respect unknown (which the critique ofspeculative reason enabled us to do), but also defined as regardshis causality by means of a law which cannot be reduced to anyphysical law of the sensible world; and therefore our knowledge isextended beyond the limits of that world, a pretension which theCritique of Pure Reason declared to be futile in all speculation. Now, how is the practical use of pure reason here to be reconciled with thetheoretical, as to the determination of the limits of its faculty?

David Hume, of whom we may say that he commenced the assault onthe claims of pure reason, which made a thorough investigation of itnecessary, argued thus: The notion of cause is a notion thatinvolves the necessity of the connexion of the existence ofdifferent things (and that, in so far as they are different), so that, given A, I know that something quite distinct there from, namely B, must necessarily also exist. Now necessity can be attributed to aconnection, only in so far as it is known a priori, for experiencewould only enable us to know of such a connection that it exists, not that it necessarily exists. Now, it is impossible, says he, toknow a priori and as necessary the connection between one thing andanother (or between one attribute and another quite distinct) whenthey have not been given in experience. Therefore the notion of acause is fictitious and delusive and, to speak in the mildest way, is an illusion, only excusable inasmuch as the custom (a subjectivenecessity) of perceiving certain things, or their attributes asoften associated in existence along with or in succession to oneanother, is insensibly taken for an objective necessity of supposingsuch a connection in the objects themselves; and thus the notion ofa cause has been acquired surreptitiously and not legitimately; nay, it can never be so acquired or authenticated, since it demands aconnection in itself vain, chimerical, and untenable in presence ofreason, and to which no object can ever correspond. In this way wasempiricism first introduced as the sole source of principles, as faras all knowledge of the existence of things is concerned(mathematics therefore remaining excepted); and with empiricism themost thorough scepticism, even with regard to the whole science ofnature( as philosophy). For on such principles we can never concludefrom given attributes of things as existing to a consequence (for thiswould require the notion of cause, which involves the necessity ofsuch a connection); we can only, guided by imagination, expect similarcases- an expectation which is never certain, however of ten it hasbeen fulfilled. Of no event could we say: a certain thing must havepreceded it, on which it necessarily followed; that is, it must have acause; and therefore, however frequent the cases we have known inwhich there was such an antecedent, so that a rule could be derivedfrom them, yet we never could suppose it as always and necessarilyso happening; we should, therefore, be obliged to leave its share toblind chance, with which all use of reason comes to an end; and thisfirmly establishes scepticism in reference to arguments ascending fromeffects to causes and makes it impregnable. 

Mathematics escaped well, so far, because Hume thought that itspropositions were analytical; that is, proceeded from one propertyto another, by virtue of identity and, consequently, according tothe principle of contradiction. This, however, is not the case, since, on the contrary, they are synthetical; and although geometry, forexample, has not to do with the existence of things, but only withtheir a priori properties in a possible intuition, yet it proceedsjust as in the case of the causal notion, from one property (A) toanother wholly distinct (B), as necessarily connected with the former. Nevertheless, mathematical science, so highly vaunted for itsapodeictic certainty, must at last fall under this empiricism forthe same reason for which Hume put custom in the place of objectivenecessity in the notion of cause and, in spite of all its pride, must consent to lower its bold pretension of claiming assent apriori and depend for assent to the universality of its propositionson the kindness of observers, who, when called as witnesses, wouldsurely not hesitate to admit that what the geometer propounds as atheorem they have always perceived to be the fact, and, consequently, although it be not necessarily true, yet they wouldpermit us to expect it to be true in the future. In this manner Hume'sempiricism leads inevitably to scepticism, even with regard tomathematics, and consequently in every scientific theoretical use ofreason (for this belongs either to philosophy or mathematics). Whetherwith such a terrible overthrow of the chief branches of knowledge, common reason will escape better, and will not rather becomeirrecoverably involved in this destruction of all knowledge, so thatfrom the same principles a universal scepticism should follow(affecting, indeed, only the learned), this I will leave everyone tojudge for himself. 

As regards my own labours in the critical examination of purereason, which were occasioned by Hume's sceptical teaching, but wentmuch further and embraced the whole field of pure theoretical reasonin its synthetic use and, consequently, the field of what is calledmetaphysics in general; I proceeded in the following manner withrespect to the doubts raised by the Scottish philosopher touchingthe notion of causality. If Hume took the objects of experience forthings in themselves (as is almost always done), he was quite right indeclaring the notion of cause to be a deception and false illusion;for as to things in themselves, and their attributes as such, it isimpossible to see why because A is given, B, which is different, must necessarily be also given, and therefore he could by no meansadmit such an a priori knowledge of things in themselves. Still lesscould this acute writer allow an empirical origin of this concept, since this is directly contradictory to the necessity of connectionwhich constitutes the essence of the notion of causality, hence thenotion was proscribed, and in its place was put custom in theobservation of the course of perceptions. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 150}

It resulted, however, from my inquiries, that the objects with whichwe have to do in experience are by no means things in themselves, but merely phenomena; and that although in the case of things inthemselves it is impossible to see how, if A is supposed, it should becontradictory that B, which is quite different from A, should not alsobe supposed (i. E. , to see the necessity of the connection between A ascause and B as effect); yet it can very well be conceived that, asphenomena, they may be necessarily connected in one experience in acertain way (e. G. , with regard to time-relations); so that theycould not be separated without contradicting that connection, by meansof which this experience is possible in which they are objects andin which alone they are cognisable by us. And so it was found to be infact; so that I was able not only to prove the objective reality ofthe concept of cause in regard to objects of experience, but also todeduce it as an a priori concept by reason of the necessity of theconnection it implied; that is, to show the possibility of itsorigin from pure understanding without any empirical sources; andthus, after removing the source of empiricism, I was able also tooverthrow the inevitable consequence of this, namely, scepticism, first with regard to physical science, and then with regard tomathematics (in which empiricism has just the same grounds), bothbeing sciences which have reference to objects of possible experience;herewith overthrowing the thorough doubt of whatever theoreticreason professes to discern. 

But how is it with the application of this category of causality(and all the others; for without them there can be no knowledge ofanything existing) to things which are not objects of possibleexperience, but lie beyond its bounds? For I was able to deduce theobjective reality of these concepts only with regard to objects ofpossible experience. But even this very fact, that I have savedthem, only in case I have proved that objects may by means of thembe thought, though not determined a priori; this it is that gives thema place in the pure understanding, by which they are referred toobjects in general (sensible or not sensible). If anything is stillwanting, it is that which is the condition of the application of thesecategories, and especially that of causality, to objects, namely, intuition; for where this is not given, the application with a view totheoretic knowledge of the object, as a noumenon, is impossible and, therefore, if anyone ventures on it, is (as in the Critique of PureReason) absolutely forbidden. Still, the objective reality of theconcept (of causality) remains, and it can be used even of noumena, but without our being able in the least to define the concepttheoretically so as to produce knowledge. For that this concept, even in reference to an object, contains nothing impossible, was shownby this, that, even while applied to objects of sense, its seat wascertainly fixed in the pure understanding; and although, when referredto things in themselves (which cannot be objects of experience), it isnot capable of being determined so as to represent a definite objectfor the purpose of theoretic knowledge; yet for any other purpose (forinstance, a practical) it might be capable of being determined so asto have such application. This could not be the case if, as Humemaintained, this concept of causality contained something absolutelyimpossible to be thought. 

In order now to discover this condition of the application of thesaid concept to noumena, we need only recall why we are not contentwith its application to objects of experience, but desire also toapply it to things in themselves. It will appear, then, that it is nota theoretic but a practical purpose that makes this a necessity. Inspeculation, even if we were successful in it, we should not reallygain anything in the knowledge of nature, or generally with regardto such objects as are given, but we should make a wide step fromthe sensibly conditioned (in which we have already enough to do tomaintain ourselves, and to follow carefully the chain of causes) tothe supersensible, in order to complete our knowledge of principlesand to fix its limits; whereas there always remains an infinitechasm unfilled between those limits and what we know; and we shouldhave hearkened to a vain curiosity rather than a solid-desire ofknowledge. 

But, besides the relation in which the understanding stands toobjects (in theoretical knowledge), it has also a relation to thefaculty of desire, which is therefore called the will, and the purewill, inasmuch as pure understanding (in this case called reason) ispractical through the mere conception of a law. The objectivereality of a pure will, or, what is the same thing, of a purepractical reason, is given in the moral law a priori, as it were, by afact, for so we may name a determination of the will which isinevitable, although it does not rest on empirical principles. Now, inthe notion of a will the notion of causality is already contained, andhence the notion of a pure will contains that of a causalityaccompanied with freedom, that is, one which is not determinable byphysical laws, and consequently is not capable of any empiricalintuition in proof of its reality, but, nevertheless, completelyjustifies its objective reality a priori in the pure practical law;not, indeed (as is easily seen) for the purposes of the theoretical, but of the practical use of reason. Now the notion of a being that hasfree will is the notion of a causa noumenon, and that this notioninvolves no contradiction, we are already assured by the fact- thatinasmuch as the concept of cause has arisen wholly from pureunderstanding, and has its objective reality assured by the deduction, as it is moreover in its origin independent of any sensibleconditions, it is, therefore, not restricted to phenomena (unless wewanted to make a definite theoretic use of it), but can be appliedequally to things that are objects of the pure understanding. But, since this application cannot rest on any intuition (for intuition canonly be sensible), therefore, causa noumenon, as regards the theoreticuse of reason, although a possible and thinkable, is yet an emptynotion. Now, I do not desire by means of this to understandtheoretically the nature of a being, in so far as it has a purewill; it is enough for me to have thereby designated it as such, andhence to combine the notion of causality with that of freedom (andwhat is inseparable from it, the moral law, as its determiningprinciple). Now, this right I certainly have by virtue of the pure, not-empirical origin of the notion of cause, since I do not considermyself entitled to make any use of it except in reference to the morallaw which determines its reality, that is, only a practical use. 

If, with Hume, I had denied to the notion of causality all objectivereality in its [theoretic] use, not merely with regard to things inthemselves (the supersensible), but also with regard to the objects ofthe senses, it would have lost all significance, and being atheoretically impossible notion would have been declared to be quiteuseless; and since what is nothing cannot be made any use of, thepractical use of a concept theoretically null would have beenabsurd. But, as it is, the concept of a causality free fromempirical conditions, although empty, i. E. , without any appropriateintuition), is yet theoretically possible, and refers to anindeterminate object; but in compensation significance is given toit in the moral law and consequently in a practical sense. I have, indeed, no intuition which should determine its objective theoreticreality, but not the less it has a real application, which isexhibited in concreto in intentions or maxims; that is, it has apractical reality which can be specified, and this is sufficient tojustify it even with a view to noumena. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 155}

Now, this objective reality of a pure concept of the understandingin the sphere of the supersensible, once brought in, gives anobjective reality also to all the other categories, although only sofar as they stand in necessary connexion with the determiningprinciple of the will (the moral law); a reality only of practicalapplication, which has not the least effect in enlarging ourtheoretical knowledge of these objects, or the discernment of theirnature by pure reason. So we shall find also in the sequel thatthese categories refer only to beings as intelligences, and in themonly to the relation of reason to the will; consequently, alwaysonly to the practical, and beyond this cannot pretend to any knowledgeof these beings; and whatever other properties belonging to thetheoretical representation of supersensible things may be brought intoconnexion with these categories, this is not to be reckoned asknowledge, but only as a right (in a practical point of view, however, it is a necessity) to admit and assume such beings, even in the casewhere we [conceive] supersensible beings (e. G. , God) according toanalogy, that is, a purely rational relation, of which we make apractical use with reference to what is sensible; and thus theapplication to the supersensible solely in a practical point of viewdoes not give pure theoretic reason the least encouragement to runriot into the transcendent. 

BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2

CHAPTER II. Of the Concept of an Object of Pure Practical Reason. 

By a concept of the practical reason I understand the idea of anobject as an effect possible to be produced through freedom. To bean object of practical knowledge, as such, signifies, therefore, only the relation of the will to the action by which the object or itsopposite would be realized; and to decide whether something is anobject of pure practical reason or not is only to discern thepossibility or impossibility of willing the action by which, if we hadthe required power (about which experience must decide), a certainobject would be realized. If the object be taken as the determiningprinciple of our desire, it must first be known whether it isphysically possible by the free use of our powers, before we decidewhether it is an object of practical reason or not. On the other hand, if the law can be considered a priori as the determining principleof the action, and the latter therefore as determined by purepractical reason, the judgement whether a thing is an object of purepractical reason or not does not depend at all on the comparisonwith our physical power; and the question is only whether we shouldwill an action that is directed to the existence of an object, ifthe object were in our power; hence the previous question is only asthe moral possibility of the action, for in this case it is not theobject, but the law of the will, that is the determining principleof the action. The only objects of practical reason are thereforethose of good and evil. For by the former is meant an objectnecessarily desired according to a principle of reason; by thelatter one necessarily shunned, also according to a principle ofreason. 

If the notion of good is not to be derived from an antecedentpractical law, but, on the contrary, is to serve as its foundation, itcan only be the notion of something whose existence promises pleasure, and thus determines the causality of the subject to produce it, thatis to say, determines the faculty of desire. Now, since it isimpossible to discern a priori what idea will be accompanied withpleasure and what with pain, it will depend on experience alone tofind out what is primarily good or evil. The property of thesubject, with reference to which alone this experiment can be made, isthe feeling of pleasure and pain, a receptivity belonging to theinternal sense; thus that only would be primarily good with whichthe sensation of pleasure is immediately connected, and that simplyevil which immediately excites pain. Since, however, this is opposedeven to the usage of language, which distinguishes the pleasant fromthe good, the unpleasant from the evil, and requires that good andevil shall always be judged by reason, and, therefore, by conceptswhich can be communicated to everyone, and not by mere sensation, which is limited to individual [subjects] and their susceptibility;and, since nevertheless, pleasure or pain cannot be connected with anyidea of an object a priori, the philosopher who thought himselfobliged to make a feeling of pleasure the foundation of hispractical judgements would call that good which is a means to thepleasant, and evil, what is a cause of unpleasantness and pain; forthe judgement on the relation of means to ends certainly belongs toreason. But, although reason is alone capable of discerning theconnexion of means with their ends (so that the will might even bedefined as the faculty of ends, since these are always determiningprinciples of the desires), yet the practical maxims which wouldfollow from the aforesaid principle of the good being merely ameans, would never contain as the object of the will anything goodin itself, but only something good for something; the good wouldalways be merely the useful, and that for which it is useful mustalways lie outside the will, in sensation. Now if this as a pleasantsensation were to be distinguished from the notion of good, then therewould be nothing primarily good at all, but the good would have tobe sought only in the means to something else, namely, somepleasantness. 

It is an old formula of the schools: Nihil appetimus nisi subratione boni; Nihil aversamur nisi sub ratione mali, and it is usedoften correctly, but often also in a manner injurious to philosophy, because the expressions boni and mali are ambiguous, owing to thepoverty of language, in consequence of which they admit a doublesense, and, therefore, inevitably bring the practical laws intoambiguity; and philosophy, which in employing them becomes aware ofthe different meanings in the same word, but can find no specialexpressions for them, is driven to subtile distinctions about whichthere is subsequently no unanimity, because the distinction couldnot be directly marked by any suitable expression. *

* Besides this, the expression sub ratione boni is also ambiguous. For it may mean: "We represent something to ourselves as good, whenand because we desire (will) it"; or "We desire something because werepresent it to ourselves as good, " so that either the desiredetermines the notion of the object as a good, or the notion of gooddetermines the desire (the will); so that in the first case subratione boni would mean, "We will something under the idea of thegood"; in the second, "In consequence of this idea, " which, asdetermining the volition, must precede it. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 5}

The German language has the good fortune to possess expressionswhich do not allow this difference to be overlooked. It possessestwo very distinct concepts and especially distinct expressions forthat which the Latins express by a single word, bonum. For bonum ithas das Gute [good], and das Wohl [well, weal], for malum das Bose[evil], and das Ubel [ill, bad], or das Well [woe]. So that we expresstwo quite distinct judgements when we consider in an action the goodand evil of it, or our weal and woe (ill). Hence it already followsthat the above quoted psychological proposition is at least verydoubtful if it is translated: "We desire nothing except with a view toour weal or woe"; on the other hand, if we render it thus: "Underthe direction of reason we desire nothing except so far as we esteemit good or evil, " it is indubitably certain and at the same time quiteclearly expressed. 

Well or ill always implies only a reference to our condition, aspleasant or unpleasant, as one of pleasure or pain, and if we desireor avoid an object on this account, it is only so far as it isreferred to our sensibility and to the feeling of pleasure or painthat it produces. But good or evil always implies a reference to thewill, as determined by the law of reason, to make something itsobject; for it is never determined directly by the object and the ideaof it, but is a faculty of taking a rule of reason for or motive of anaction (by which an object may be realized). Good and evil thereforeare properly referred to actions, not to the sensations of the person, and if anything is to be good or evil absolutely (i. E. , in everyrespect and without any further condition), or is to be so esteemed, it can only be the manner of acting, the maxim of the will, andconsequently the acting person himself as a good or evil man thatcan be so called, and not a thing. 

However, then, men may laugh at the Stoic, who in the severestparoxysms of gout cried out: "Pain, however thou tormentest me, I willnever admit that thou art an evil (kakov, malum)": he was right. A badthing it certainly was, and his cry betrayed that; but that any evilattached to him thereby, this he bad no reason whatever to admit, for pain did not in the least diminish the worth of his person, butonly that of his condition. If he had been conscious of a singlelie, it would have lowered his pride, but pain served only to raiseit, when he was conscious that he had not deserved it by anyunrighteous action by which he had rendered himself worthy ofpunishment. 

What we call good must be an object of desire in the judgement ofevery rational man, and evil an object of aversion in the eyes ofeveryone; therefore, in addition to sense, this judgement requiresreason. So it is with truthfulness, as opposed to lying; so withjustice, as opposed to violence, &c. But we may call a thing a bad [orill) thing, which yet everyone must at the same time acknowledge to begood, sometimes directly, sometimes indirectly. The man who submits toa surgical operation feels it no doubt as a bad thing, but by theirreason he and everyone acknowledge it to be good. If a man whodelights in annoying and vexing peaceable people at last receives aright good beating, this is no doubt a bad thing; but everyoneapproves it and regards it as a good thing, even though nothing elseresulted from it; nay, even the man who receives it must in his reasonacknowledge that he has met justice, because he sees the proportionbetween good conduct and good fortune, which reason inevitablyplaces before him, here put into practice. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 10}

No doubt our weal and woe are of very great importance in theestimation of our practical reason, and as far as our nature assensible beings is concerned, our happiness is the only thing ofconsequence, provided it is estimated as reason especially requires, not by the transitory sensation, but by the influence that this has onour whole existence, and on our satisfaction therewith; but it isnot absolutely the only thing of consequence. Man is a being who, asbelonging to the world of sense, has wants, and so far his reasonhas an office which it cannot refuse, namely, to attend to theinterest of his sensible nature, and to form practical maxims, evenwith a view to the happiness of this life, and if possible even tothat of a future. But he is not so completely an animal as to beindifferent to what reason says on its own account, and to use itmerely as an instrument for the satisfaction of his wants as asensible being. For the possession of reason would not raise his worthabove that of the brutes, if it is to serve him only for the samepurpose that instinct serves in them; it would in that case be onlya particular method which nature had employed to equip man for thesame ends for which it has qualified brutes, without qualifying himfor any higher purpose. No doubt once this arrangement of nature hasbeen made for him he requires reason in order to take intoconsideration his weal and woe, but besides this he possesses it for ahigher purpose also, namely, not only to take into considerationwhat is good or evil in itself, about which only pure reason, uninfluenced by any sensible interest, can judge, but also todistinguish this estimate thoroughly from the former and to make itthe supreme condition thereof. 

In estimating what is good or evil in itself, as distinguishedfrom what can be so called only relatively, the following points areto be considered. Either a rational principle is already conceived, asof itself the determining principle of the will, without regard topossible objects of desire (and therefore by the more legislative formof the maxim), and in that case that principle is a practical a priorilaw, and pure reason is supposed to be practical of itself. The law inthat case determines the will directly; the action conformed to itis good in itself; a will whose maxim always conforms to this law isgood absolutely in every respect and is the supreme condition of allgood. Or the maxim of the will is consequent on a determiningprinciple of desire which presupposes an object of pleasure or pain, something therefore that pleases or displeases, and the maxim ofreason that we should pursue the former and avoid the latterdetermines our actions as good relatively to our inclination, that is, good indirectly, i. E. , relatively to a different end to which they aremeans), and in that case these maxims can never be called laws, butmay be called rational practical precepts. The end itself, thepleasure that we seek, is in the latter case not a good but a welfare;not a concept of reason, but an empirical concept of an object ofsensation; but the use of the means thereto, that is, the action, isnevertheless called good (because rational deliberation is requiredfor it), not however, good absolutely, but only relatively to oursensuous nature, with regard to its feelings of pleasure anddispleasure; but the will whose maxim is affected thereby is not apure will; this is directed only to that in which pure reason byitself can be practical. 

This is the proper place to explain the paradox of method in acritique of practical reason, namely, that the concept of good andevil must not be determined before the moral law (of which it seems asif it must be the foundation), but only after it and by means of it. In fact, even if we did not know that the principle of morality is apure a priori law determining the will, yet, that we may not assumeprinciples quite gratuitously, we must, at least at first, leave itundecided, whether the will has merely empirical principles ofdetermination, or whether it has not also pure a priori principles;for it is contrary to all rules of philosophical method to assume asdecided that which is the very point in question. Supposing that wewished to begin with the concept of good, in order to deduce from itthe laws of the will, then this concept of an object (as a good) wouldat the same time assign to us this object as the sole determiningprinciple of the will. Now, since this concept had not any practical apriori law for its standard, the criterion of good or evil could notbe placed in anything but the agreement of the object with our feelingof pleasure or pain; and the use of reason could only consist indetermining in the first place this pleasure or pain in connexion withall the sensations of my existence, and in the second place themeans of securing to myself the object of the pleasure. Now, asexperience alone can decide what conforms to the feeling ofpleasure, and by hypothesis the practical law is to be based on thisas a condition, it follows that the possibility of a prioripractical laws would be at once excluded, because it was imagined tobe necessary first of all to find an object the concept of which, as agood, should constitute the universal though empirical principle ofdetermination of the will. But what it was necessary to inquirefirst of all was whether there is not an a priori determiningprinciple of the will (and this could never be found anywhere but in apure practical law, in so far as this law prescribes to maximsmerely their form without regard to an object). Since, however, welaid the foundation of all practical law in an object determined byour conceptions of good and evil, whereas without a previous lawthat object could not be conceived by empirical concepts, we havedeprived ourselves beforehand of the possibility of even conceivinga pure practical law. On the other hand, if we had firstinvestigated the latter analytically, we should have found that itis not the concept of good as an object that determines the morallaw and makes it possible, but that, on the contrary, it is themoral law that first determines the concept of good and makes itpossible, so far as it deserves the name of good absolutely. 

This remark, which only concerns the method of ultimate ethicalinquiries, is of importance. It explains at once the occasion of allthe mistakes of philosophers with respect to the supreme principleof morals. For they sought for an object of the will which theycould make the matter and principle of a law (which consequently couldnot determine the will directly, but by means of that objectreferred to the feeling of pleasure or pain; whereas they oughtfirst to have searched for a law that would determine the will apriori and directly, and afterwards determine the object in accordancewith the will). Now, whether they placed this object of pleasure, which was to supply the supreme conception of goodness, inhappiness, in perfection, in moral [feeling], or in the will of God, their principle in every case implied heteronomy, and they mustinevitably come upon empirical conditions of a moral law, sincetheir object, which was to be the immediate principle of the will, could not be called good or bad except in its immediate relation tofeeling, which is always empirical. It is only a formal law- thatis, one which prescribes to reason nothing more than the form of itsuniversal legislation as the supreme condition of its maxims- that canbe a priori a determining principle of practical reason. Theancients avowed this error without concealment by directing alltheir moral inquiries to the determination of the notion of the summumbonum, which they intended afterwards to make the determiningprinciple of the will in the moral law; whereas it is only farlater, when the moral law has been first established for itself, andshown to be the direct determining principle of the will, that thisobject can be presented to the will, whose form is now determined apriori; and this we shall undertake in the Dialectic of the purepractical reason. The moderns, with whom the question of the summumbonum has gone out of fashion, or at least seems to have become asecondary matter, hide the same error under vague (expressions as inmany other cases). It shows itself, nevertheless, in their systems, asit always produces heteronomy of practical reason; and from this cannever be derived a moral law giving universal commands. 

Now, since the notions of good and evil, as consequences of the apriori determination of the will, imply also a pure practicalprinciple, and therefore a causality of pure reason; hence they do notoriginally refer to objects (so as to be, for instance, specialmodes of the synthetic unity of the manifold of given intuitions inone consciousness) like the pure concepts of the understanding orcategories of reason in its theoretic employment; on the contrary, they presuppose that objects are given; but they are all modes(modi) of a single category, namely, that of causality, thedetermining principle of which consists in the rational conceptionof a law, which as a law of freedom reason gives to itself, therebya priori proving itself practical. However, as the actions on theone side come under a law which is not a physical law, but a law offreedom, and consequently belong to the conduct of beings in andconsequently the consequently belong to the beings in the world ofintelligence, yet on the other side as events in the world of sensethey belong to phenomena; hence the determinations of a practicalreason are only possible in reference to the latter and, therefore, inaccordance with the categories of the understanding; not indeed with aview to any theoretic employment of it, i. E. , so as to bring themanifold of (sensible) intuition under one consciousness a priori; butonly to subject the manifold of desires to the unity ofconsciousness of a practical reason, giving it commands in the morallaw, i. E. , to a pure will a priori. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 15}

These categories of freedom- for so we choose to call them incontrast to those theoretic categories which are categories ofphysical nature- have an obvious advantage over the latter, inasmuchas the latter are only forms of thought which designate objects inan indefinite manner by means of universal concept of every possibleintuition; the former, on the contrary, refer to the determinationof a free elective will (to which indeed no exactly correspondingintuition can be assigned, but which has as its foundation a purepractical a priori law, which is not the case with any conceptsbelonging to the theoretic use of our cognitive faculties); hence, instead of the form of intuition (space and time), which does notlie in reason itself, but has to be drawn from another source, namely, the sensibility, these being elementary practical concepts have astheir foundation the form of a pure will, which is given in reasonand, therefore, in the thinking faculty itself. From this it happensthat as all precepts of pure practical reason have to do only with thedetermination of the will, not with the physical conditions (ofpractical ability) of the execution of one's purpose, the practicala priori principles in relation to the supreme principle of freedomare at once cognitions, and have not to wait for intuitions in orderto acquire significance, and that for this remarkable reason, because they themselves produce the reality of that to which theyrefer (the intention of the will), which is not the case withtheoretical concepts. Only we must be careful to observe that thesecategories only apply to the practical reason; and thus they proceedin order from those which are as yet subject to sensible conditionsand morally indeterminate to those which are free from sensibleconditions and determined merely by the moral law. 

Table of the Categories of Freedom relatively to the Notions of Goodand Evil. 

 I. QUANTITY. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 20}

 Subjective, according to maxims (practical opinions of the

 individual)

 Objective, according to principles (Precepts)

 A priori both objective and subjective principles of freedom

 (laws)

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 25}

 II. QUALITY. 

 Practical rules of action (praeceptivae)

 Practical rules of omission (prohibitivae)

 Practical rules of exceptions (exceptivae)

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 30}

 III. RELATION. 

 To personality To the condition of the person. 

 Reciprocal, of one person to the others of the others. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 35}

 IV. MODALITY. 

 The Permitted and the Forbidden

 Duty and the contrary to duty. 

 Perfect and imperfect duty. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 40}

It will at once be observed that in this table freedom is consideredas a sort of causality not subject to empirical principles ofdetermination, in regard to actions possible by it, which arephenomena in the world of sense, and that consequently it isreferred to the categories which concern its physical possibility, whilst yet each category is taken so universally that thedetermining principle of that causality can be placed outside theworld of sense in freedom as a property of a being in the world ofintelligence; and finally the categories of modality introduce thetransition from practical principles generally to those of morality, but only problematically. These can be established dogmatically onlyby the moral law. 

I add nothing further here in explanation of the present table, since it is intelligible enough of itself. A division of this kindbased on principles is very useful in any science, both for the sakeof thoroughness and intelligibility. Thus, for instance, we knowfrom the preceding table and its first number what we must beginfrom in practical inquiries; namely, from the maxims which every onefounds on his own inclinations; the precepts which hold for aspecies of rational beings so far as they agree in certaininclinations; and finally the law which holds for all without regardto their inclinations, etc. In this way we survey the whole plan ofwhat has to be done, every question of practical philosophy that hasto be answered, and also the order that is to be followed. 

Of the Typic of the Pure Practical Judgement. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 45}

It is the notions of good and evil that first determine an object ofthe will. They themselves, however, are subject to a practical rule ofreason which, if it is pure reason, determines the will a priorirelatively to its object. Now, whether an action which is possibleto us in the world of sense, comes under the rule or not, is aquestion to be decided by the practical judgement, by which what issaid in the rule universally (in abstracto) is applied to an action inconcreto. But since a practical rule of pure reason in the first placeas practical concerns the existence of an object, and in the secondplace as a practical rule of pure reason implies necessity asregards the existence of the action and, therefore, is a practicallaw, not a physical law depending on empirical principles ofdetermination, but a law of freedom by which the will is to bedetermined independently on anything empirical (merely by theconception of a law and its form), whereas all instances that canoccur of possible actions can only be empirical, that is, belong tothe experience of physical nature; hence, it seems absurd to expect tofind in the world of sense a case which, while as such it depends onlyon the law of nature, yet admits of the application to it of a lawof freedom, and to which we can apply the supersensible idea of themorally good which is to be exhibited in it in concreto. Thus, thejudgement of the pure practical reason is subject to the samedifficulties as that of the pure theoretical reason. The latter, however, had means at hand of escaping from these difficulties, because, in regard to the theoretical employment, intuitions wererequired to which pure concepts of the understanding could be applied, and such intuitions (though only of objects of the senses) can begiven a priori and, therefore, as far as regards the union of themanifold in them, conforming to the pure a priori concepts of theunderstanding as schemata. On the other hand, the morally good issomething whose object is supersensible; for which, therefore, nothingcorresponding can be found in any sensible intuition. Judgementdepending on laws of pure practical reason seems, therefore, to besubject to special difficulties arising from this, that a law offreedom is to be applied to actions, which are events taking placein the world of sense, and which, so far, belong to physical nature. 

But here again is opened a favourable prospect for the purepractical judgement. When I subsume under a pure practical law anaction possible to me in the world of sense, I am not concerned withthe possibility of the action as an event in the world of sense. This is a matter that belongs to the decision of reason in itstheoretic use according to the law of causality, which is a pureconcept of the understanding, for which reason has a schema in thesensible intuition. Physical causality, or the condition under whichit takes place, belongs to the physical concepts, the schema ofwhich is sketched by transcendental imagination. Here, however, wehave to do, not with the schema of a case that occurs according tolaws, but with the schema of a law itself (if the word is allowablehere), since the fact that the will (not the action relatively toits effect) is determined by the law alone without any otherprinciple, connects the notion of causality with quite differentconditions from those which constitute physical connection. 

The physical law being a law to which the objects of sensibleintuition, as such, are subject, must have a schema corresponding toit- that is, a general procedure of the imagination (by which itexhibits a priori to the senses the pure concept of theunderstanding which the law determines). But the law of freedom(that is, of a causality not subject to sensible conditions), andconsequently the concept of the unconditionally good, cannot haveany intuition, nor consequently any schema supplied to it for thepurpose of its application in concreto. Consequently the moral law hasno faculty but the understanding to aid its application to physicalobjects (not the imagination); and the understanding for thepurposes of the judgement can provide for an idea of the reason, not aschema of the sensibility, but a law, though only as to its form aslaw; such a law, however, as can be exhibited in concreto in objectsof the senses, and therefore a law of nature. We can therefore callthis law the type of the moral law. 

The rule of the judgement according to laws of pure practical reasonis this: ask yourself whether, if the action you propose were totake place by a law of the system of nature of which you were yourselfa part, you could regard it as possible by your own will. Everyonedoes, in fact, decide by this rule whether actions are morally good orevil. Thus, people say: "If everyone permitted himself to deceive, when he thought it to his advantage; or thought himself justified inshortening his life as soon as he was thoroughly weary of it; orlooked with perfect indifference on the necessity of others; and ifyou belonged to such an order of things, would you do so with theassent of your own will?" Now everyone knows well that if hesecretly allows himself to deceive, it does not follow that everyoneelse does so; or if, unobserved, he is destitute of compassion, otherswould not necessarily be so to him; hence, this comparison of themaxim of his actions with a universal law of nature is not thedetermining principle of his will. Such a law is, nevertheless, a typeof the estimation of the maxim on moral principles. If the maxim ofthe action is not such as to stand the test of the form of a universallaw of nature, then it is morally impossible. This is the judgementeven of common sense; for its ordinary judgements, even those ofexperience, are always based on the law of nature. It has it thereforealways at hand, only that in cases where causality from freedom isto be criticised, it makes that law of nature only the type of a lawof freedom, because, without something which it could use as anexample in a case of experience, it could not give the law of a purepractical reason its proper use in practice. 

It is therefore allowable to use the system of the world of sense asthe type of a supersensible system of things, provided I do nottransfer to the latter the intuitions, and what depends on them, butmerely apply to it the form of law in general (the notion of whichoccurs even in the commonest use of reason, but cannot be definitelyknown a priori for any other purpose than the pure practical use ofreason); for laws, as such, are so far identical, no matter fromwhat they derive their determining principles. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 50}

Further, since of all the supersensible absolutely nothing [isknown] except freedom (through the moral law), and this only so far asit is inseparably implied in that law, and moreover allsupersensible objects to which reason might lead us, following theguidance of that law, have still no reality for us, except for thepurpose of that law, and for the use of mere practical reason; andas reason is authorized and even compelled to use physical nature(in its pure form as an object of the understanding) as the type ofthe judgement; hence, the present remark will serve to guard againstreckoning amongst concepts themselves that which belongs only to thetypic of concepts. This, namely, as a typic of the judgement, guardsagainst the empiricism of practical reason, which founds the practicalnotions of good and evil merely on experienced consequences (so-calledhappiness). No doubt happiness and the infinite advantages which wouldresult from a will determined by self-love, if this will at the sametime erected itself into a universal law of nature, may certainlyserve as a perfectly suitable type of the morally good, but it isnot identical with it. The same typic guards also against themysticism of practical reason, which turns what served only as asymbol into a schema, that is, proposes to provide for the moralconcepts actual intuitions, which, however, are not sensible(intuitions of an invisible Kingdom of God), and thus plunges into thetranscendent. What is befitting the use of the moral concepts isonly the rationalism of the judgement, which takes from the sensiblesystem of nature only what pure reason can also conceive of itself, that is, conformity to law, and transfers into the supersensiblenothing but what can conversely be actually exhibited by actions inthe world of sense according to the formal rule of a law of nature. However, the caution against empiricism of practical reason is muchmore important; for mysticism is quite reconcilable with the purityand sublimity of the moral law, and, besides, it is not very naturalor agreeable to common habits of thought to strain one's imaginationto supersensible intuitions; and hence the danger on this side isnot so general. Empiricism, on the contrary, cuts up at the rootsthe morality of intentions (in which, and not in actions only, consists the high worth that men can and ought to give to themselves), and substitutes for duty something quite different, namely, anempirical interest, with which the inclinations generally are secretlyleagued; and empiricism, moreover, being on this account allied withall the inclinations which (no matter what fashion they put on)degrade humanity when they are raised to the dignity of a supremepractical principle; and as these, nevertheless, are so favourableto everyone's feelings, it is for that reason much more dangerous thanmysticism, which can never constitute a lasting condition of any greatnumber of persons. 

BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3

 CHAPTER III. Of the Motives of Pure Practical Reason. 

What is essential in the moral worth of actions is that the morallaw should directly determine the will. If the determination of thewill takes place in conformity indeed to the moral law, but only bymeans of a feeling, no matter of what kind, which has to bepresupposed in order that the law may be sufficient to determine thewill, and therefore not for the sake of the law, then the actionwill possess legality, but not morality. Now, if we understand bymotive (elater animi) the subjective ground of determination of thewill of a being whose reason does not necessarily conform to theobjective law, by virtue of its own nature, then it will follow, first, that not motives can be attributed to the Divine will, and thatthe motives of the human will (as well as that of every createdrational being) can never be anything else than the moral law, andconsequently that the objective principle of determination must alwaysand alone be also the subjectively sufficient determining principle ofthe action, if this is not merely to fulfil the letter of the law, without containing its spirit. *

* We may say of every action that conforms to the law, but is notdone for the sake of the law, that it is morally good in the letter, not in the spirit (the intention). 

Since, then, for the purpose of giving the moral law influenceover the will, we must not seek for any other motives that mightenable us to dispense with the motive of the law itself, becausethat would produce mere hypocrisy, without consistency; and it is evendangerous to allow other motives (for instance, that of interest) evento co-operate along with the moral law; hence nothing is left us butto determine carefully in what way the moral law becomes a motive, andwhat effect this has upon the faculty of desire. For as to thequestion how a law can be directly and of itself a determiningprinciple of the will (which is the essence of morality), this is, forhuman reason, an insoluble problem and identical with the question:how a free will is possible. Therefore what we have to show a prioriis not why the moral law in itself supplies a motive, but whateffect it, as such, produces (or, more correctly speaking, mustproduce) on the mind. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 5}

The essential point in every determination of the will by themoral law is that being a free will it is determined simply by themoral law, not only without the co-operation of sensible impulses, buteven to the rejection of all such, and to the checking of allinclinations so far as they might be opposed to that law. So far, then, the effect of the moral law as a motive is only negative, andthis motive can be known a priori to be such. For all inclinationand every sensible impulse is founded on feeling, and the negativeeffect produced on feeling (by the check on the inclinations) isitself feeling; consequently, we can see a priori that the morallaw, as a determining principle of the will, must by thwarting all ourinclinations produce a feeling which may be called pain; and in thiswe have the first, perhaps the only, instance in which we are ablefrom a priori considerations to determine the relation of acognition (in this case of pure practical reason) to the feeling ofpleasure or displeasure. All the inclinations together (which can bereduced to a tolerable system, in which case their satisfaction iscalled happiness) constitute self-regard (solipsismus). This is eitherthe self-love that consists in an excessive fondness for oneself(philautia), or satisfaction with oneself (arrogantia). The formeris called particularly selfishness; the latter self-conceit. Purepractical reason only checks selfishness, looking on it as natural andactive in us even prior to the moral law, so far as to limit it to thecondition of agreement with this law, and then it is called rationalself-love. But self-conceit reason strikes down altogether, sinceall claims to self-esteem which precede agreement with the moral laware vain and unjustifiable, for the certainty of a state of mindthat coincides with this law is the first condition of personalworth (as we shall presently show more clearly), and prior to thisconformity any pretension to worth is false and unlawful. Now thepropensity to self-esteem is one of the inclinations which the morallaw checks, inasmuch as that esteem rests only on morality. Therefore the moral law breaks down self-conceit. But as this law issomething positive in itself, namely, the form of an intellectualcausality, that is, of freedom, it must be an object of respect;for, by opposing the subjective antagonism of the inclinations, itweakens self-conceit; and since it even breaks down, that is, humiliates, this conceit, it is an object of the highest respectand, consequently, is the foundation of a positive feeling which isnot of empirical origin, but is known a priori. Therefore respectfor the moral law is a feeling which is produced by an intellectualcause, and this feeling is the only one that we know quite a prioriand the necessity of which we can perceive. 

In the preceding chapter we have seen that everything thatpresents itself as an object of the will prior to the moral law isby that law itself, which is the supreme condition of practicalreason, excluded from the determining principles of the will whichwe have called the unconditionally good; and that the mere practicalform which consists in the adaptation of the maxims to universallegislation first determines what is good in itself and absolutely, and is the basis of the maxims of a pure will, which alone is goodin every respect. However, we find that our nature as sensiblebeings is such that the matter of desire (objects of inclination, whether of hope or fear) first presents itself to us; and ourpathologically affected self, although it is in its maxims quite unfitfor universal legislation; yet, just as if it constituted our entireself, strives to put its pretensions forward first, and to have themacknowledged as the first and original. This propensity to makeourselves in the subjective determining principles of our choice serveas the objective determining principle of the will generally may becalled self-love; and if this pretends to be legislative as anunconditional practical principle it may be called self-conceit. Nowthe moral law, which alone is truly objective (namely, in everyrespect), entirely excludes the influence of self-love on thesupreme practical principle, and indefinitely checks theself-conceit that prescribes the subjective conditions of the formeras laws. Now whatever checks our self-conceit in our own judgementhumiliates; therefore the moral law inevitably humbles every manwhen he compares with it the physical propensities of his nature. That, the idea of which as a determining principle of our will humblesus in our self-consciousness, awakes respect for itself, so far asit is itself positive and a determining principle. Therefore the morallaw is even subjectively a cause of respect. Now since everything thatenters into self-love belongs to inclination, and all inclinationrests on feelings, and consequently whatever checks all the feelingstogether in self-love has necessarily, by this very circumstance, aninfluence on feeling; hence we comprehend how it is possible toperceive a priori that the moral law can produce an effect on feeling, in that it excludes the inclinations and the propensity to make themthe supreme practical condition, i. E. , self-love, from allparticipation in the supreme legislation. This effect is on one sidemerely negative, but on the other side, relatively to therestricting principle of pure practical reason, it is positive. Nospecial kind of feeling need be assumed for this under the name of apractical or moral feeling as antecedent to the moral law andserving as its foundation. 

The negative effect on feeling (unpleasantness) is pathological, like every influence on feeling and like every feeling generally. But as an effect of the consciousness of the moral law, andconsequently in relation to a supersensible cause, namely, the subjectof pure practical reason which is the supreme lawgiver, this feelingof a rational being affected by inclinations is called humiliation(intellectual self-depreciation); but with reference to the positivesource of this humiliation, the law, it is respect for it. There isindeed no feeling for this law; but inasmuch as it removes theresistance out of the way, this removal of an obstacle is, in thejudgement of reason, esteemed equivalent to a positive help to itscausality. Therefore this feeling may also be called a feeling ofrespect for the moral law, and for both reasons together a moralfeeling. 

While the moral law, therefore, is a formal determining principle ofaction by practical pure reason, and is moreover a material thoughonly objective determining principle of the objects of action ascalled good and evil, it is also a subjective determining principle, that is, a motive to this action, inasmuch as it has influence onthe morality of the subject and produces a feeling conducive to theinfluence of the law on the will. There is here in the subject noantecedent feeling tending to morality. For this is impossible, since every feeling is sensible, and the motive of moral intentionmust be free from all sensible conditions. On the contrary, whilethe sensible feeling which is at the bottom of all our inclinations isthe condition of that impression which we call respect, the cause thatdetermines it lies in the pure practical reason; and this impressiontherefore, on account of its origin, must be called, not apathological but a practical effect. For by the fact that theconception of the moral law deprives self-love of its influence, andself-conceit of its illusion, it lessens the obstacle to purepractical reason and produces the conception of the superiority of itsobjective law to the impulses of the sensibility; and thus, byremoving the counterpoise, it gives relatively greater weight to thelaw in the judgement of reason (in the case of a will affected bythe aforesaid impulses). Thus the respect for the law is not amotive to morality, but is morality itself subjectively consideredas a motive, inasmuch as pure practical reason, by rejecting all therival pretensions of selflove, gives authority to the law, which nowalone has influence. Now it is to be observed that as respect is aneffect on feeling, and therefore on the sensibility, of a rationalbeing, it presupposes this sensibility, and therefore also thefiniteness of such beings on whom the moral law imposes respect; andthat respect for the law cannot be attributed to a supreme being, orto any being free from all sensibility, in whom, therefore, thissensibility cannot be an obstacle to practical reason. 

This feeling (which we call the moral feeling) is therefore producedsimply by reason. It does not serve for the estimation of actionsnor for the foundation of the objective moral law itself, but merelyas a motive to make this of itself a maxim. But what name could wemore suitably apply to this singular feeling which cannot becompared to any pathological feeling? It is of such a peculiar kindthat it seems to be at the disposal of reason only, and that purepractical reason. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 10}

Respect applies always to persons only- not to things. The lattermay arouse inclination, and if they are animals (e. G. , horses, dogs, etc. ), even love or fear, like the sea, a volcano, a beast of prey;but never respect. Something that comes nearer to this feeling isadmiration, and this, as an affection, astonishment, can apply tothings also, e. G. , lofty mountains, the magnitude, number, anddistance of the heavenly bodies, the strength and swiftness of manyanimals, etc. But all this is not respect. A man also may be an objectto me of love, fear, or admiration, even to astonishment, and yetnot be an object of respect. His jocose humour, his courage andstrength, his power from the rank be has amongst others, may inspireme with sentiments of this kind, but still inner respect for him iswanting. Fontenelle says, "I bow before a great man, but my minddoes not bow. " I would add, before an humble plain man, in whom Iperceive uprightness of character in a higher degree than I amconscious of in myself, - my mind bows whether I choose it or not, and though I bear my head never so high that he may not forget mysuperior rank. Why is this? Because his example exhibits to me a lawthat humbles my self-conceit when I compare it with my conduct: a law, the practicability of obedience to which I see proved by fact beforemy eyes. Now, I may even be conscious of a like degree of uprightness, and yet the respect remains. For since in man all good is defective, the law made visible by an example still humbles my pride, my standardbeing furnished by a man whose imperfections, whatever they may be, are not known to me as my own are, and who therefore appears to mein a more favourable light. Respect is a tribute which we cannotrefuse to merit, whether we will or not; we may indeed outwardlywithhold it, but we cannot help feeling it inwardly. 

Respect is so far from being a feeling of pleasure that we onlyreluctantly give way to it as regards a man. We try to find outsomething that may lighten the burden of it, some fault tocompensate us for the humiliation which such which such an examplecauses. Even the dead are not always secure from this criticism, especially if their example appears inimitable. Even the moral lawitself in its solemn majesty is exposed to this endeavour to saveoneself from yielding it respect. Can it be thought that it is for anyother reason that we are so ready to reduce it to the level of ourfamiliar inclination, or that it is for any other reason that we alltake such trouble to make it out to be the chosen precept of our owninterest well understood, but that we want to be free from thedeterrent respect which shows us our own unworthiness with suchseverity? Nevertheless, on the other hand, so little is there painin it that if once one has laid aside self-conceit and allowedpractical influence to that respect, he can never be satisfied withcontemplating the majesty of this law, and the soul believes itselfelevated in proportion as it sees the holy law elevated above it andits frail nature. No doubt great talents and activity proportionedto them may also occasion respect or an analogous feeling. It isvery proper to yield it to them, and then it appears as if thissentiment were the same thing as admiration. But if we look closerwe shall observe that it is always uncertain how much of the abilityis due to native talent, and how much to diligence in cultivatingit. Reason represents it to us as probably the fruit of cultivation, and therefore as meritorious, and this notably reduces ourself-conceit, and either casts a reproach on us or urges us tofollow such an example in the way that is suitable to us. Thisrespect, then, which we show to such a person (properly speaking, tothe law that his example exhibits) is not mere admiration; and this isconfirmed also by the fact that when the common run of admirersthink they have learned from any source the badness of such a man'scharacter (for instance Voltaire's) they give up all respect forhim; whereas the true scholar still feels it at least with regard tohis talents, because he is himself engaged in a business and avocation which make imitation of such a man in some degree a law. 

Respect for the moral law is, therefore, the only and theundoubted moral motive, and this feeling is directed to no object, except on the ground of this law. The moral law first determines thewill objectively and directly in the judgement of reason; and freedom, whose causality can be determined only by the law, consists just inthis, that it restricts all inclinations, and consequentlyself-esteem, by the condition of obedience to its pure law. Thisrestriction now has an effect on feeling, and produces theimpression of displeasure which can be known a priori from the morallaw. Since it is so far only a negative effect which, arising from theinfluence of pure practical reason, checks the activity of thesubject, so far as it is determined by inclinations, and hencechecks the opinion of his personal worth (which, in the absence ofagreement with the moral law, is reduced to nothing); hence, theeffect of this law on feeling is merely humiliation. We can, therefore, perceive this a priori, but cannot know by it the forceof the pure practical law as a motive, but only the resistance tomotives of the sensibility. But since the same law is objectively, that is, in the conception of pure reason, an immediate principle ofdetermination of the will, and consequently this humiliation takesplace only relatively to the purity of the law; hence, the lowering ofthe pretensions of moral self-esteem, that is, humiliation on thesensible side, is an elevation of the moral, i. E. , practical, esteemfor the law itself on the intellectual side; in a word, it isrespect for the law, and therefore, as its cause is intellectual, apositive feeling which can be known a priori. For whateverdiminishes the obstacles to an activity furthers this activity itself. Now the recognition of the moral law is the consciousness of anactivity of practical reason from objective principles, which onlyfails to reveal its effect in actions because subjective(pathological) causes hinder it. Respect for the moral law then mustbe regarded as a positive, though indirect, effect of it on feeling, inasmuch as this respect weakens the impeding influence ofinclinations by humiliating selfesteem; and hence also as a subjectiveprinciple of activity, that is, as a motive to obedience to the law, and as a principle of the maxims of a life conformable to it. From thenotion of a motive arises that of an interest, which can never beattributed to any being unless it possesses reason, and whichsignifies a motive of the will in so far as it is conceived by thereason. Since in a morally good will the law itself must be themotive, the moral interest is a pure interest of practical reasonalone, independent of sense. On the notion of an interest is basedthat of a maxim. This, therefore, is morally good only in case itrests simply on the interest taken in obedience to the law. Allthree notions, however, that of a motive, of an interest, and of amaxim, can be applied only to finite beings. For they all suppose alimitation of the nature of the being, in that the subjectivecharacter of his choice does not of itself agree with the objectivelaw of a practical reason; they suppose that the being requires tobe impelled to action by something, because an internal obstacleopposes itself. Therefore they cannot be applied to the Divine will. 

There is something so singular in the unbounded esteem for thepure moral law, apart from all advantage, as it is presented for ourobedience by practical reason, the voice of which makes even theboldest sinner tremble and compels him to hide himself from it, thatwe cannot wonder if we find this influence of a mere intellectual ideaon the feelings quite incomprehensible to speculative reason andhave to be satisfied with seeing so much of this a priori that sucha feeling is inseparably connected with the conception of the morallaw in every finite rational being. If this feeling of respect werepathological, and therefore were a feeling of pleasure based on theinner sense, it would be in vain to try to discover a connection of itwith any idea a priori. But [it] is a feeling that applies merely towhat is practical, and depends on the conception of a law, simply asto its form, not on account of any object, and therefore cannot bereckoned either as pleasure or pain, and yet produces an interest inobedience to the law, which we call the moral interest, just as thecapacity of taking such an interest in the law (or respect for themoral law itself) is properly the moral feeling. 

The consciousness of a free submission of the will to the law, yetcombined with an inevitable constraint put upon all inclinations, though only by our own reason, is respect for the law. The law thatdemands this respect and inspires it is clearly no other than themoral (for no other precludes all inclinations from exercising anydirect influence on the will). An action which is objectivelypractical according to this law, to the exclusion of every determiningprinciple of inclination, is duty, and this by reason of thatexclusion includes in its concept practical obligation, that is, adetermination to actions, however reluctantly they may be done. Thefeeling that arises from the consciousness of this obligation is notpathological, as would be a feeling produced by an object of thesenses, but practical only, that is, it is made possible by apreceding (objective) determination of the will and a causality of thereason. As submission to the law, therefore, that is, as a command(announcing constraint for the sensibly affected subject), it containsin it no pleasure, but on the contrary, so far, pain in the action. Onthe other hand, however, as this constraint is exercised merely by thelegislation of our own reason, it also contains something elevating, and this subjective effect on feeling, inasmuch as pure practicalreason is the sole cause of it, may be called in this respectself-approbation, since we recognize ourselves as determined theretosolely by the law without any interest, and are now conscious of aquite different interest subjectively produced thereby, and which ispurely practical and free; and our taking this interest in an actionof duty is not suggested by any inclination, but is commanded andactually brought about by reason through the practical law; whencethis feeling obtains a special name, that of respect. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 15}

The notion of duty, therefore, requires in the action, objectively, agreement with the law, and, subjectively in its maxim, that respect for the law shall be the sole mode in which the will isdetermined thereby. And on this rests the distinction between theconsciousness of having acted according to duty and from duty, thatis, from respect for the law. The former (legality) is possible evenif inclinations have been the determining principles of the will;but the latter (morality), moral worth, can be placed only in this, that the action is done from duty, that is, simply for the sake of thelaw. *

* If we examine accurately the notion of respect for persons as ithas been already laid down, we shall perceive that it always restson the consciousness of a duty which an example shows us, and thatrespect, therefore. Can never have any but a moral ground, and that itis very good and even, in a psychological point of view, very usefulfor the knowledge of mankind, that whenever we use this expressionwe should attend to this secret and marvellous, yet often recurring, regard which men in their judgement pay to the moral law. 

It is of the greatest importance to attend with the utmost exactnessin all moral judgements to the subjective principle of all maxims, that all the morality of actions may be placed in the necessity ofacting from duty and from respect for the law, not from love andinclination for that which the actions are to produce. For men and allcreated rational beings moral necessity is constraint, that isobligation, and every action based on it is to be conceived as a duty, not as a proceeding previously pleasing, or likely to be Pleasing tous of our own accord. As if indeed we could ever bring it about thatwithout respect for the law, which implies fear, or at leastapprehension of transgression, we of ourselves, like the independentDeity, could ever come into possession of holiness of will by thecoincidence of our will with the pure moral law becoming as it werepart of our nature, never to be shaken (in which case the law wouldcease to be a command for us, as we could never be tempted to beuntrue to it). 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 20}

The moral law is in fact for the will of a perfect being a law ofholiness, but for the will of every finite rational being a law ofduty, of moral constraint, and of the determination of its actionsby respect for this law and reverence for its duty. No othersubjective principle must be assumed as a motive, else while theaction might chance to be such as the law prescribes, yet, as does notproceed from duty, the intention, which is the thing properly inquestion in this legislation, is not moral. 

It is a very beautiful thing to do good to men from love to them andfrom sympathetic good will, or to be just from love of order; but thisis not yet the true moral maxim of our conduct which is suitable toour position amongst rational beings as men, when we pretend withfanciful pride to set ourselves above the thought of duty, likevolunteers, and, as if we were independent on the command, to wantto do of our own good pleasure what we think we need no command to do. We stand under a discipline of reason and in all our maxims must notforget our subjection to it, nor withdraw anything therefrom, or by anegotistic presumption diminish aught of the authority of the law(although our own reason gives it) so as to set the determiningprinciple of our will, even though the law be conformed to, anywhereelse but in the law itself and in respect for this law. Duty andobligation are the only names that we must give to our relation to themoral law. We are indeed legislative members of a moral kingdomrendered possible by freedom, and presented to us by reason as anobject of respect; but yet we are subjects in it, not the sovereign, and to mistake our inferior position as creatures, andpresumptuously to reject the authority of the moral law, is already torevolt from it in spirit, even though the letter of it is fulfilled. 

With this agrees very well the possibility of such a command as:Love God above everything, and thy neighbour as thyself. * For as acommand it requires respect for a law which commands love and does notleave it to our own arbitrary choice to make this our principle. Love to God, however, considered as an inclination (pathologicallove), is impossible, for He is not an object of the senses. Thesame affection towards men is possible no doubt, but cannot becommanded, for it is not in the power of any man to love anyone atcommand; therefore it is only practical love that is meant in thatpith of all laws. To love God means, in this sense, to like to doHis commandments; to love one's neighbour means to like to practiseall duties towards him. But the command that makes this a rulecannot command us to have this disposition in actions conformed toduty, but only to endeavour after it. For a command to like to do athing is in itself contradictory, because if we already know ofourselves what we are bound to do, and if further we are consciousof liking to do it, a command would be quite needless; and if we do itnot willingly, but only out of respect for the law, a command thatmakes this respect the motive of our maxim would directly counteractthe disposition commanded. That law of all laws, therefore, like allthe moral precepts of the Gospel, exhibits the moral disposition inall its perfection, in which, viewed as an ideal of holiness, it isnot attainable by any creature, but yet is the pattern which we shouldstrive to approach, and in an uninterrupted but infinite progressbecome like to. In fact, if a rational creature could ever reachthis point, that he thoroughly likes to do all moral laws, thiswould mean that there does not exist in him even the possibility ofa desire that would tempt him to deviate from them; for to overcomesuch a desire always costs the subject some sacrifice and thereforerequires self-compulsion, that is, inward constraint to something thatone does not quite like to do; and no creature can ever reach thisstage of moral disposition. For, being a creature, and thereforealways dependent with respect to what be requires for completesatisfaction, he can never be quite free from desires andinclinations, and as these rest on physical causes, they can neverof themselves coincide with the moral law, the sources of which arequite different; and therefore they make it necessary to found themental disposition of one's maxims on moral obligation, not on readyinclination, but on respect, which demands obedience to the law, even though one may not like it; not on love, which apprehends noinward reluctance of the will towards the law. Nevertheless, thislatter, namely, love to the law (which would then cease to be acommand, and then morality, which would have passed subjectivelyinto holiness, would cease to be virtue) must be the constant thoughunattainable goal of his endeavours. For in the case of what we highlyesteem, but yet (on account of the consciousness of our weakness)dread, the increased facility of satisfying it changes the mostreverential awe into inclination, and respect into love; at least thiswould be the perfection of a disposition devoted to the law, if itwere possible for a creature to attain it. 

* This law is in striking contrast with the principle of privatehappiness which some make the supreme principle of morality. Thiswould be expressed thus: Love thyself above everything, and God andthy neighbour for thine own sake. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 25}

This reflection is intended not so much to clear up theevangelical command just cited, in order to prevent religiousfanaticism in regard to love of God, but to define accurately themoral disposition with regard directly to our duties towards men, and to check, or if possible prevent, a merely moral fanaticismwhich infects many persons. The stage of morality on which man (and, as far as we can see, every rational creature) stands is respect forthe moral law. The disposition that he ought to have in obeying thisis to obey it from duty, not from spontaneous inclination, or froman endeavour taken up from liking and unbidden; and this propermoral condition in which he can always be is virtue, that is, moraldisposition militant, and not holiness in the fancied possession ofa perfect purity of the disposition of the will. It is nothing butmoral fanaticism and exaggerated self-conceit that is infused into themind by exhortation to actions as noble, sublime, and magnanimous, by which men are led into the delusion that it is not duty, that is, respect for the law, whose yoke (an easy yoke indeed, because reasonitself imposes it on us) they must bear, whether they like it ornot, that constitutes the determining principle of their actions, and which always humbles them while they obey it; fancying thatthose actions are expected from them, not from duty, but as puremerit. For not only would they, in imitating such deeds from such aprinciple, not have fulfilled the spirit of the law in the least, which consists not in the legality of the action (without regard toprinciple), but in the subjection of the mind to the law; not onlydo they make the motives pathological (seated in sympathy orself-love), not moral (in the law), but they produce in this way avain, high-flying, fantastic way of thinking, flattering themselveswith a spontaneous goodness of heart that needs neither spur norbridle, for which no command is needed, and thereby forgetting theirobligation, which they ought to think of rather than merit. Indeedactions of others which are done with great sacrifice, and merelyfor the sake of duty, may be praised as noble and sublime, but only sofar as there are traces which suggest that they were done wholly outof respect for duty and not from excited feelings. If these, however, are set before anyone as examples to be imitated, respect forduty (which is the only true moral feeling) must be employed as themotive- this severe holy precept which never allows our vain self-loveto dally with pathological impulses (however analogous they may beto morality), and to take a pride in meritorious worth. Now if wesearch we shall find for all actions that are worthy of praise a lawof duty which commands, and does not leave us to choose what may beagreeable to our inclinations. This is the only way of representingthings that can give a moral training to the soul, because it alone iscapable of solid and accurately defined principles. 

If fanaticism in its most general sense is a deliberate overstepping of the limits of human reason, then moral fanaticism issuch an over stepping of the bounds that practical pure reason sets tomankind, in that it forbids us to place the subjective determiningprinciple of correct actions, that is, their moral motive, in anythingbut the law itself, or to place the disposition which is therebybrought into the maxims in anything but respect for this law, andhence commands us to take as the supreme vital principle of allmorality in men the thought of duty, which strikes down allarrogance as well as vain self-love. 

If this is so, it is not only writers of romance or sentimentaleducators (although they may be zealous opponents ofsentimentalism), but sometimes even philosophers, nay, even theseverest of all, the Stoics, that have brought in moral fanaticisminstead of a sober but wise moral discipline, although thefanaticism of the latter was more heroic, that of the former of aninsipid, effeminate character; and we may, without hypocrisy, say ofthe moral teaching of the Gospel, that it first, by the purity ofits moral principle, and at the same time by its suitability to thelimitations of finite beings, brought all the good conduct of menunder the discipline of a duty plainly set before their eyes, whichdoes not permit them to indulge in dreams of imaginary moralperfections; and that it also set the bounds of humility (that is, self-knowledge) to self-conceit as well as to self-love, both whichare ready to mistake their limits. 

Duty! Thou sublime and mighty name that dost embrace nothingcharming or insinuating, but requirest submission, and yet seekest notto move the will by threatening aught that would arouse naturalaversion or terror, but merely holdest forth a law which of itselffinds entrance into the mind, and yet gains reluctant reverence(though not always obedience), a law before which all inclinations aredumb, even though they secretly counter-work it; what origin isthere worthy of thee, and where is to be found the root of thy nobledescent which proudly rejects all kindred with the inclinations; aroot to be derived from which is the indispensable condition of theonly worth which men can give themselves?

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 30}

It can be nothing less than a power which elevates man above himself(as a part of the world of sense), a power which connects him withan order of things that only the understanding can conceive, with aworld which at the same time commands the whole sensible world, andwith it the empirically determinable existence of man in time, as wellas the sum total of all ends (which totality alone suits suchunconditional practical laws as the moral). This power is nothingbut personality, that is, freedom and independence on the mechanism ofnature, yet, regarded also as a faculty of a being which is subject tospecial laws, namely, pure practical laws given by its own reason;so that the person as belonging to the sensible world is subject tohis own personality as belonging to the intelligible [supersensible]world. It is then not to be wondered at that man, as belonging to bothworlds, must regard his own nature in reference to its second andhighest characteristic only with reverence, and its laws with thehighest respect. 

On this origin are founded many expressions which designate theworth of objects according to moral ideas. The moral law is holy(inviolable). Man is indeed unholy enough, but he must regard humanityin his own person as holy. In all creation every thing one chooses andover which one has any power, may be used merely as means; manalone, and with him every rational creature, is an end in himself. By virtue of the autonomy of his freedom he is the subject of themoral law, which is holy. Just for this reason every will, evenevery person's own individual will, in relation to itself, isrestricted to the condition of agreement with the autonomy of therational being, that is to say, that it is not to be subject to anypurpose which cannot accord with a law which might arise from the willof the passive subject himself; the latter is, therefore, never tobe employed merely as means, but as itself also, concurrently, an end. We justly attribute this condition even to the Divine will, withregard to the rational beings in the world, which are His creatures, since it rests on their personality, by which alone they are ends inthemselves. 

This respect-inspiring idea of personality which sets before oureyes the sublimity of our nature (in its higher aspect), while atthe same time it shows us the want of accord of our conduct with itand thereby strikes down self-conceit, is even natural to thecommonest reason and easily observed. Has not every even moderatelyhonourable man sometimes found that, where by an otherwise inoffensivelie he might either have withdrawn himself from an unpleasantbusiness, or even have procured some advantages for a loved andwell-deserving friend, he has avoided it solely lest he should despisehimself secretly in his own eyes? When an upright man is in thegreatest distress, which he might have avoided if he could only havedisregarded duty, is he not sustained by the consciousness that he hasmaintained humanity in its proper dignity in his own person andhonoured it, that he has no reason to be ashamed of himself in his ownsight, or to dread the inward glance of self-examination? Thisconsolation is not happiness, it is not even the smallest part ofit, for no one would wish to have occasion for it, or would, perhaps, even desire a life in such circumstances. But he lives, andhe cannot endure that he should be in his own eyes unworthy of life. This inward peace is therefore merely negative as regards what canmake life pleasant; it is, in fact, only the escaping the danger ofsinking in personal worth, after everything else that is valuablehas been lost. It is the effect of a respect for something quitedifferent from life, something in comparison and contrast with whichlife with all its enjoyment has no value. He still lives onlybecause it is his duty, not because he finds anything pleasant inlife. 

Such is the nature of the true motive of pure practical reason; itis no other than the pure moral law itself, inasmuch as it makes usconscious of the sublimity of our own supersensible existence andsubjectively produces respect for their higher nature in men who arealso conscious of their sensible existence and of the consequentdependence of their pathologically very susceptible nature. Now withthis motive may be combined so many charms and satisfactions of lifethat even on this account alone the most prudent choice of arational Epicurean reflecting on the greatest advantage of lifewould declare itself on the side of moral conduct, and it may evenbe advisable to join this prospect of a cheerful enjoyment of lifewith that supreme motive which is already sufficient of itself; butonly as a counterpoise to the attractions which vice does not failto exhibit on the opposite side, and not so as, even in the smallestdegree, to place in this the proper moving power when duty is inquestion. For that would be just the same as to wish to taint thepurity of the moral disposition in its source. The majesty of duty hasnothing to do with enjoyment of life; it has its special law and itsspecial tribunal, and though the two should be never so well shakentogether to be given well mixed, like medicine, to the sick soul, yet they will soon separate of themselves; and if they do not, theformer will not act; and although physical life might gain somewhat inforce, the moral life would fade away irrecoverably. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 35}

Critical Examination of the Analytic of Pure Practical Reason. 

By the critical examination of a science, or of a portion of it, which constitutes a system by itself, I understand the inquiry andproof why it must have this and no other systematic form, when wecompare it with another system which is based on a similar facultyof knowledge. Now practical and speculative reason are based on thesame faculty, so far as both are pure reason. Therefore the differencein their systematic form must be determined by the comparison of both, and the ground of this must be assigned. 

The Analytic of pure theoretic reason had to do with the knowledgeof such objects as may have been given to the understanding, and wasobliged therefore to begin from intuition and consequently (as this isalways sensible) from sensibility; and only after that could advanceto concepts (of the objects of this intuition), and could only endwith principles after both these had preceded. On the contrary, since practical reason has not to do with objects so as to knowthem, but with its own faculty of realizing them (in accordance withthe knowledge of them), that is, with a will which is a causality, inasmuch as reason contains its determining principle; since, consequently, it has not to furnish an object of intuition, but aspractical reason has to furnish only a law (because the notion ofcausality always implies the reference to a law which determines theexistence of the many in relation to one another); hence a criticalexamination of the Analytic of reason, if this is to be practicalreason (and this is properly the problem), must begin with thepossibility of practical principles a priori. Only after that can itproceed to concepts of the objects of a practical reason, namely, those of absolute good and evil, in order to assign them in accordancewith those principles (for prior to those principles they cannotpossibly be given as good and evil by any faculty of knowledge), andonly then could the section be concluded with the last chapter, that, namely, which treats of the relation of the pure practicalreason to the sensibility and of its necessary influence thereon, which is a priori cognisable, that is, of the moral sentiment. Thusthe Analytic of the practical pure reason has the whole extent ofthe conditions of its use in common with the theoretical, but inreverse order. The Analytic of pure theoretic reason was dividedinto transcendental Aesthetic and transcendental Logic, that of thepractical reversely into Logic and Aesthetic of pure practicalreason (if I may, for the sake of analogy merely, use thesedesignations, which are not quite suitable). This logic again wasthere divided into the Analytic of concepts and that of principles:here into that of principles and concepts. The Aesthetic also had inthe former case two parts, on account of the two kinds of sensibleintuition; here the sensibility is not considered as a capacity ofintuition at all, but merely as feeling (which can be a subjectiveground of desire), and in regard to it pure practical reason admits nofurther division. 

It is also easy to see the reason why this division into two partswith its subdivision was not actually adopted here (as one mighthave been induced to attempt by the example of the former critique). For since it is pure reason that is here considered in its practicaluse, and consequently as proceeding from a priori principles, andnot from empirical principles of determination, hence the divisionof the analytic of pure practical reason must resemble that of asyllogism; namely, proceeding from the universal in the majorpremiss (the moral principle), through a minor premiss containing asubsumption of possible actions (as good or evil) under the former, tothe conclusion, namely, the subjective determination of the will (aninterest in the possible practical good, and in the maxim founded onit). He who has been able to convince himself of the truth of thepositions occurring in the Analytic will take pleasure in suchcomparisons; for they justly suggest the expectation that we mayperhaps some day be able to discern the unity of the whole facultyof reason (theoretical as well as practical) and be able to derive allfrom one principle, which, is what human reason inevitably demands, asit finds complete satisfaction only in a perfectly systematic unity ofits knowledge. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 40}

If now we consider also the contents of the knowledge that we canhave of a pure practical reason, and by means of it, as shown by theAnalytic, we find, along with a remarkable analogy between it andthe theoretical, no less remarkable differences. As regards thetheoretical, the faculty of a pure rational cognition a priori couldbe easily and evidently proved by examples from sciences (in which, asthey put their principles to the test in so many ways by methodicaluse, there is not so much reason as in common knowledge to fear asecret mixture of empirical principles of cognition). But, that purereason without the admixture of any empirical principle is practicalof itself, this could only be shown from the commonest practical useof reason, by verifying the fact, that every man's natural reasonacknowledges the supreme practical principle as the supreme law of hiswill- a law completely a priori and not depending on any sensibledata. It was necessary first to establish and verify the purity of itsorigin, even in the judgement of this common reason, before sciencecould take it in hand to make use of it, as a fact, that is, priorto all disputation about its possibility, and all the consequencesthat may be drawn from it. But this circumstance may be readilyexplained from what has just been said; because practical purereason must necessarily begin with principles, which therefore must bethe first data, the foundation of all science, and cannot be derivedfrom it. It was possible to effect this verification of moralprinciples as principles of a pure reason quite well, and withsufficient certainty, by a single appeal to the judgement of commonsense, for this reason, that anything empirical which might slipinto our maxims as a determining principle of the will can be detectedat once by the feeling of pleasure or pain which necessarilyattaches to it as exciting desire; whereas pure practical reasonpositively refuses to admit this feeling into its principle as acondition. The heterogeneity of the determining principles (theempirical and rational) is clearly detected by this resistance of apractically legislating reason against every admixture of inclination, and by a peculiar kind of sentiment, which, however, does notprecede the legislation of the practical reason, but, on the contrary, is produced by this as a constraint, namely, by the feeling of arespect such as no man has for inclinations of whatever kind but forthe law only; and it is detected in so marked and prominent a mannerthat even the most uninstructed cannot fail to see at once in anexample presented to him, that empirical principles of volition mayindeed urge him to follow their attractions, but that he can neverbe expected to obey anything but the pure practical law of reasonalone. 

The distinction between the doctrine of happiness and the doctrineof morality, in the former of which empirical principles constitutethe entire foundation, while in the second they do not form thesmallest part of it, is the first and most important office of theAnalytic of pure practical reason; and it must proceed in it with asmuch exactness and, so to speak, scrupulousness, as any geometer inhis work. The philosopher, however, has greater difficulties tocontend with here (as always in rational cognition by means ofconcepts merely without construction), because he cannot take anyintuition as a foundation (for a pure noumenon). He has, however, thisadvantage that, like the chemist, he can at any time make anexperiment with every man's practical reason for the purpose ofdistinguishing the moral (pure) principle of determination from theempirical; namely, by adding the moral law (as a determiningprinciple) to the empirically affected will (e. G. , that of the man whowould be ready to lie because he can gain something thereby). It is asif the analyst added alkali to a solution of lime in hydrochloricacid, the acid at once forsakes the lime, combines with the alkali, and the lime is precipitated. Just in the same way, if to a man who isotherwise honest (or who for this occasion places himself only inthought in the position of an honest man), we present the moral law bywhich he recognises the worthlessness of the liar, his practicalreason (in forming a judgement of what ought to be done) at onceforsakes the advantage, combines with that which maintains in himrespect for his own person (truthfulness), and the advantage afterit has been separated and washed from every particle of reason(which is altogether on the side of duty) is easily weighed byeveryone, so that it can enter into combination with reason in othercases, only not where it could be opposed to the moral law, whichreason never forsakes, but most closely unites itself with. 

But it does not follow that this distinction between the principleof happiness and that of morality is an opposition between them, andpure practical reason does not require that we should renounce allclaim to happiness, but only that the moment duty is in question weshould take no account of happiness. It may even in certain respectsbe a duty to provide for happiness; partly, because (includingskill, wealth, riches) it contains means for the fulfilment of ourduty; partly, because the absence of it (e. G. , poverty) impliestemptations to transgress our duty. But it can never be an immediateduty to promote our happiness, still less can it be the principle ofall duty. Now, as all determining principles of the will, except thelaw of pure practical reason alone (the moral law), are allempirical and, therefore, as such, belong to the principle ofhappiness, they must all be kept apart from the supreme principle ofmorality and never be incorporated with it as a condition; sincethis would be to destroy all moral worth just as much as any empiricaladmixture with geometrical principles would destroy the certainty ofmathematical evidence, which in Plato's opinion is the mostexcellent thing in mathematics, even surpassing their utility. 

Instead, however, of the deduction of the supreme principle ofpure practical reason, that is, the explanation of the possibilityof such a knowledge a priori, the utmost we were able to do was toshow that if we saw the possibility of the freedom of an efficientcause, we should also see not merely the possibility, but even thenecessity, of the moral law as the supreme practical law of rationalbeings, to whom we attribute freedom of causality of their will;because both concepts are so inseparably united that we might definepractical freedom as independence of the will on anything but themoral law. But we cannot perceive the possibility of the freedom of anefficient cause, especially in the world of sense; we are fortunate ifonly we can be sufficiently assured that there is no proof of itsimpossibility, and are now, by the moral law which postulates it, compelled and therefore authorized to assume it. However, there arestill many who think that they can explain this freedom on empiricalprinciples, like any other physical faculty, and treat it as apsychological property, the explanation of which only requires amore exact study of the nature of the soul and of the motives of thewill, and not as a transcendental predicate of the causality of abeing that belongs to the world of sense (which is really thepoint). They thus deprive us of the grand revelation which we obtainthrough practical reason by means of the moral law, the revelation, namely, of a supersensible world by the realization of the otherwisetranscendent concept of freedom, and by this deprive us also of themoral law itself, which admits no empirical principle ofdetermination. Therefore it will be necessary to add something here asa protection against this delusion and to exhibit empiricism in itsnaked superficiality. 

The notion of causality as physical necessity, in opposition tothe same notion as freedom, concerns only the existence of things sofar as it is determinable in time, and, consequently, as phenomena, inopposition to their causality as things in themselves. Now if wetake the attributes of existence of things in time for attributes ofthings in themselves (which is the common view), then it is impossibleto reconcile the necessity of the causal relation with freedom; theyare contradictory. For from the former it follows that every event, and consequently every action that takes place at a certain point oftime, is a necessary result of what existed in time preceding. Nowas time past is no longer in my power, hence every action that Iperform must be the necessary result of certain determining groundswhich are not in my power, that is, at the moment in which I am actingI am never free. Nay, even if I assume that my whole existence isindependent on any foreign cause (for instance, God), so that thedetermining principles of my causality, and even of my wholeexistence, were not outside myself, yet this would not in the leasttransform that physical necessity into freedom. For at every moment oftime I am still under the necessity of being determined to action bythat which is not in my power, and the series of events infinite aparte priori, which I only continue according to a pre-determinedorder and could never begin of myself, would be a continuousphysical chain, and therefore my causality would never be freedom. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 45}

If, then, we would attribute freedom to a being whose existence isdetermined in time, we cannot except him from the law of necessityas to all events in his existence and, consequently, as to his actionsalso; for that would be to hand him over to blind chance. Now asthis law inevitably applies to all the causality of things, so faras their existence is determinable in time, it follows that if thiswere the mode in which we had also to conceive the existence ofthese things in themselves, freedom must be rejected as a vain andimpossible conception. Consequently, if we would still save it, noother way remains but to consider that the existence of a thing, sofar as it is determinable in time, and therefore its causality, according to the law of physical necessity, belong to appearance, and to attribute freedom to the same being as a thing in itself. This is certainly inevitable, if we would retain both thesecontradictory concepts together; but in application, when we try toexplain their combination in one and the same action, greatdifficulties present themselves which seem to render such acombination impracticable. 

When I say of a man who commits a theft that, by the law ofcausality, this deed is a necessary result of the determining causesin preceding time, then it was impossible that it could not havehappened; how then can the judgement, according to the moral law, makeany change, and suppose that it could have been omitted, because thelaw says that it ought to have been omitted; that is, how can a man becalled quite free at the same moment, and with respect to the sameaction in which he is subject to an inevitable physical necessity?Some try to evade this by saying that the causes that determine hiscausality are of such a kind as to agree with a comparative notionof freedom. According to this, that is sometimes called a free effect, the determining physical cause of which lies within the acting thingitself, e. G. , that which a projectile performs when it is in freemotion, in which case we use the word freedom, because while it isin flight it is not urged by anything external; or as we call themotion of a clock a free motion, because it moves its hands itself, which therefore do not require to be pushed by external force; soalthough the actions of man are necessarily determined by causes whichprecede in time, we yet call them free, because these causes are ideasproduced by our own faculties, whereby desires are evoked onoccasion of circumstances, and hence actions are wrought accordingto our own pleasure. This is a wretched subterfuge with which somepersons still let themselves be put off, and so think they havesolved, with a petty word- jugglery, that difficult problem, at thesolution of which centuries have laboured in vain, and which cantherefore scarcely be found so completely on the surface. In fact, in the question about the freedom which must be the foundation ofall moral laws and the consequent responsibility, it does not matterwhether the principles which necessarily determine causality by aphysical law reside within the subject or without him, or in theformer case whether these principles are instinctive or areconceived by reason, if, as is admitted by these men themselves, thesedetermining ideas have the ground of their existence in time and inthe antecedent state, and this again in an antecedent, etc. Then itmatters not that these are internal; it matters not that they have apsychological and not a mechanical causality, that is, produce actionsby means of ideas and not by bodily movements; they are stilldetermining principles of the causality of a being whose existenceis determinable in time, and therefore under the necessitation ofconditions of past time, which therefore, when the subject has to act, are no longer in his power. This may imply psychological freedom (ifwe choose to apply this term to a merely internal chain of ideas inthe mind), but it involves physical necessity and, therefore, leavesno room for transcendental freedom, which must be conceived asindependence on everything empirical, and, consequently, on naturegenerally, whether it is an object of the internal sense considered intime only, or of the external in time and space. Without thisfreedom (in the latter and true sense), which alone is practical apriori, no moral law and no moral imputation are possible. Just forthis reason the necessity of events in time, according to the physicallaw of causality, may be called the mechanism of nature, although wedo not mean by this that things which are subject to it must be reallymaterial machines. We look here only to the necessity of theconnection of events in a time-series as it is developed accordingto the physical law, whether the subject in which this developmenttakes place is called automaton materiale when the mechanical being ismoved by matter, or with Leibnitz spirituale when it is impelled byideas; and if the freedom of our will were no other than the latter(say the psychological and comparative, not also transcendental, that is, absolute), then it would at bottom be nothing better than thefreedom of a turnspit, which, when once it is wound up, accomplishesits motions of itself. 

Now, in order to remove in the supposed case the apparentcontradiction between freedom and the mechanism of nature in one andthe same action, we must remember what was said in the Critique ofPure Reason, or what follows therefrom; viz. , that the necessity ofnature, which cannot co-exist with the freedom of the subject, appertains only to the attributes of the thing that is subject totime-conditions, consequently only to those of the acting subject as aphenomenon; that therefore in this respect the determiningprinciples of every action of the same reside in what belongs topast time and is no longer in his power (in which must be included hisown past actions and the character that these may determine for him inhis own eyes as a phenomenon). But the very same subject, being on theother side conscious of himself as a thing in himself, considers hisexistence also in so far as it is not subject to time-conditions, and regards himself as only determinable by laws which he giveshimself through reason; and in this his existence nothing isantecedent to the determination of his will, but every action, andin general every modification of his existence, varying according tohis internal sense, even the whole series of his existence as asensible being is in the consciousness of his supersensibleexistence nothing but the result, and never to be regarded as thedetermining principle, of his causality as a noumenon. In this viewnow the rational being can justly say of every unlawful action that heperforms, that he could very well have left it undone; although asappearance it is sufficiently determined in the past, and in thisrespect is absolutely necessary; for it, with all the past whichdetermines it, belongs to the one single phenomenon of his characterwhich he makes for himself, in consequence of which he imputes thecausality of those appearances to himself as a cause independent ofsensibility. 

With this agree perfectly the judicial sentences of that wonderfulfaculty in us which we call conscience. A man may use as much art ashe likes in order to paint to himself an unlawful act, that heremembers, as an unintentional error, a mere oversight, such as onecan never altogether avoid, and therefore as something in which he wascarried away by the stream of physical necessity, and thus to makehimself out innocent, yet he finds that the advocate who speaks in hisfavour can by no means silence the accuser within, if only he isconscious that at the time when he did this wrong he was in hissenses, that is, in possession of his freedom; and, nevertheless, heaccounts for his error from some bad habits, which by gradualneglect of attention he has allowed to grow upon him to such adegree that he can regard his error as its natural consequence, although this cannot protect him from the blame and reproach whichhe casts upon himself. This is also the ground of repentance for along past action at every recollection of it; a painful feelingproduced by the moral sentiment, and which is practically void in sofar as it cannot serve to undo what has been done. (Hence Priestley, as a true and consistent fatalist, declares it absurd, and he deservesto be commended for this candour more than those who, while theymaintain the mechanism of the will in fact, and its freedom in wordsonly, yet wish it to be thought that they include it in their systemof compromise, although they do not explain the possibility of suchmoral imputation. ) But the pain is quite legitimate, because whenthe law of our intelligible [supersensible] existence (the morallaw) is in question, reason recognizes no distinction of time, andonly asks whether the event belongs to me, as my act, and thenalways morally connects the same feeling with it, whether it hashappened just now or long ago. For in reference to the supersensibleconsciousness of its existence (i. E. , freedom) the life of sense isbut a single phenomenon, which, inasmuch as it contains merelymanifestations of the mental disposition with regard to the morallaw (i. E. , of the character), must be judged not according to thephysical necessity that belongs to it as phenomenon, but accordingto the absolute spontaneity of freedom. It may therefore be admittedthat, if it were possible to have so profound an insight into aman's mental character as shown by internal as well as externalactions as to know all its motives, even the smallest, and likewiseall the external occasions that can influence them, we could calculatea man's conduct for the future with as great certainty as a lunar orsolar eclipse; and nevertheless we may maintain that the man isfree. In fact, if we were capable of a further glance, namely, anintellectual intuition of the same subject (which indeed is notgranted to us, and instead of it we have only the rational concept), then we should perceive that this whole chain of appearances in regardto all that concerns the moral laws depends on the spontaneity ofthe subject as a thing in itself, of the determination of which nophysical explanation can be given. In default of this intuition, themoral law assures us of this distinction between the relation of ouractions as appearance to our sensible nature, and the relation of thissensible nature to the supersensible substratum in us. In this view, which is natural to our reason, though inexplicable, we can alsojustify some judgements which we passed with all conscientiousness, and which yet at first sight seem quite opposed to all equity. Thereare cases in which men, even with the same education which has beenprofitable to others, yet show such early depravity, and so continueto progress in it to years of manhood, that they are thought to beborn villains, and their character altogether incapable ofimprovement; and nevertheless they are judged for what they do orleave undone, they are reproached for their faults as guilty; nay, they themselves (the children) regard these reproaches as wellfounded, exactly as if in spite of the hopeless natural quality ofmind ascribed to them, they remained just as responsible as anyother man. This could not happen if we did not suppose that whateversprings from a man's choice (as every action intentionally performedundoubtedly does) has as its foundation a free causality, which fromearly youth expresses its character in its manifestations (i. E. , actions). These, on account of the uniformity of conduct, exhibit anatural connection, which however does not make the vicious quality ofthe will necessary, but on the contrary, is the consequence of theevil principles voluntarily adopted and unchangeable, which onlymake it so much the more culpable and deserving of punishment. Therestill remains a difficulty in the combination of freedom with themechanism of nature in a being belonging to the world of sense; adifficulty which, even after all the foregoing is admitted, threatens freedom with complete destruction. But with this dangerthere is also a circumstance that offers hope of an issue stillfavourable to freedom; namely, that the same difficulty presses muchmore strongly (in fact as we shall presently see, presses only) on thesystem that holds the existence determinable in time and space to bethe existence of things in themselves; it does not therefore oblige usto give up our capital supposition of the ideality of time as a mereform of sensible intuition, and consequently as a mere manner ofrepresentation which is proper to the subject as belonging to theworld of sense; and therefore it only requires that this view bereconciled with this idea. 

The difficulty is as follows: Even if it is admitted that thesupersensible subject can be free with respect to a given action, although, as a subject also belonging to the world of sense, he isunder mechanical conditions with respect to the same action, still, assoon as we allow that God as universal first cause is also the causeof the existence of substance (a proposition which can never begiven up without at the same time giving up the notion of God as theBeing of all beings, and therewith giving up his all sufficiency, onwhich everything in theology depends), it seems as if we must admitthat a man's actions have their determining principle in somethingwhich is wholly out of his power- namely, in the causality of aSupreme Being distinct from himself and on whom his own existenceand the whole determination of his causality are absolutely dependent. In point of fact, if a man's actions as belonging to his modificationsin time were not merely modifications of him as appearance, but as athing in itself, freedom could not be saved. Man would be a marionetteor an automaton, like Vaucanson's, prepared and wound up by theSupreme Artist. Self-consciousness would indeed make him a thinkingautomaton; but the consciousness of his own spontaneity would bemere delusion if this were mistaken for freedom, and it woulddeserve this name only in a comparative sense, since, although theproximate determining causes of its motion and a long series oftheir determining causes are internal, yet the last and highest isfound in a foreign hand. Therefore I do not see how those who stillinsist on regarding time and space as attributes belonging to theexistence of things in themselves, can avoid admitting the fatality ofactions; or if (like the otherwise acute Mendelssohn) they allowthem to be conditions necessarily belonging to the existence of finiteand derived beings, but not to that of the infinite Supreme Being, Ido not see on what ground they can justify such a distinction, or, indeed, how they can avoid the contradiction that meets them, whenthey hold that existence in time is an attribute necessarily belongingto finite things in themselves, whereas God is the cause of thisexistence, but cannot be the cause of time (or space) itself (sincethis must be presupposed as a necessary a priori condition of theexistence of things); and consequently as regards the existence ofthese things. His causality must be subject to conditions and evento the condition of time; and this would inevitably bring ineverything contradictory to the notions of His infinity andindependence. On the other hand, it is quite easy for us to draw thedistinction between the attribute of the divine existence of beingindependent on all time-conditions, and that of a being of the worldof sense, the distinction being that between the existence of abeing in itself and that of a thing in appearance. Hence, if thisideality of time and space is not adopted, nothing remains butSpinozism, in which space and time are essential attributes of theSupreme Being Himself, and the things dependent on Him (ourselves, therefore, included) are not substances, but merely accidents inheringin Him; since, if these things as His effects exist in time only, thisbeing the condition of their existence in themselves, then the actionsof these beings must be simply His actions which He performs in someplace and time. Thus, Spinozism, in spite of the absurdity of itsfundamental idea, argues more consistently than the creation theorycan, when beings assumed to be substances, and beings in themselvesexisting in time, are regarded as effects of a Supreme Cause, andyet as not [belonging] to Him and His action, but as separatesubstances. 

 {BOOK_1|CHAPTER_3 ^paragraph 50}

The above-mentioned difficulty is resolved briefly and clearly asfollows: If existence in time is a mere sensible mode ofrepresentation belonging to thinking beings in the world andconsequently does not apply to them as things in themselves, thenthe creation of these beings is a creation of things in themselves, since the notion of creation does not belong to the sensible form ofrepresentation of existence or to causality, but can only bereferred to noumena. Consequently, when I say of beings in the worldof sense that they are created, I so far regard them as noumena. As itwould be a contradiction, therefore, to say that God is a creator ofappearances, so also it is a contradiction to say that as creator Heis the cause of actions in the world of sense, and therefore asappearances, although He is the cause of the existence of the actingbeings (which are noumena). If now it is possible to affirm freedom inspite of the natural mechanism of actions as appearances (by regardingexistence in time as something that belongs only to appearances, notto things in themselves), then the circumstance that the acting beingsare creatures cannot make the slightest difference, since creationconcerns their supersensible and not their sensible existence, and, therefore, cannot be regarded as the determining principle of theappearances. It would be quite different if the beings in the world asthings in themselves existed in time, since in that case the creatorof substance would be at the same time the author of the wholemechanism of this substance. 

Of so great importance is the separation of time (as well asspace) from the existence of things in themselves which was effectedin the Critique of the Pure Speculative Reason. 

It may be said that the solution here proposed involves greatdifficulty in itself and is scarcely susceptible of a lucidexposition. But is any other solution that has been attempted, or thatmay be attempted, easier and more intelligible? Rather might we saythat the dogmatic teachers of metaphysics have shown more shrewdnessthan candour in keeping this difficult point out of sight as much aspossible, in the hope that if they said nothing about it, probablyno one would think of it. If science is to be advanced, alldifficulties must be laid open, and we must even search for those thatare hidden, for every difficulty calls forth a remedy, which cannot bediscovered without science gaining either in extent or in exactness;and thus even obstacles become means of increasing the thoroughness ofscience. On the other hand, if the difficulties are intentionallyconcealed, or merely removed by palliatives, then sooner or later theyburst out into incurable mischiefs, which bring science to ruin inan absolute scepticism. 

Since it is, properly speaking, the notion of freedom aloneamongst all the ideas of pure speculative reason that so greatlyenlarges our knowledge in the sphere of the supersensible, though onlyof our practical knowledge, I ask myself why it exclusivelypossesses so great fertility, whereas the others only designate thevacant space for possible beings of the pure understanding, but areunable by any means to define the concept of them. I presently findthat as I cannot think anything without a category, I must firstlook for a category for the rational idea of freedom with which I amnow concerned; and this is the category of causality; and althoughfreedom, a concept of the reason, being a transcendent concept, cannothave any intuition corresponding to it, yet the concept of theunderstanding- for the synthesis of which the former demands theunconditioned- (namely, the concept of causality) must have a sensibleintuition given, by which first its objective reality is assured. Now, the categories are all divided into two classes- the mathematical, which concern the unity of synthesis in the conception of objects, andthe dynamical, which refer to the unity of synthesis in the conceptionof the existence of objects. The former (those of magnitude andquality) always contain a synthesis of the homogeneous, and it isnot possible to find in this the unconditioned antecedent to what isgiven in sensible intuition as conditioned in space and time, asthis would itself have to belong to space and time, and therefore beagain still conditioned. Whence it resulted in the Dialectic of PureTheoretic Reason that the opposite methods of attaining theunconditioned and the totality of the conditions were both wrong. The categories of the second class (those of causality and of thenecessity of a thing) did not require this homogeneity (of theconditioned and the condition in synthesis), since here what we haveto explain is not how the intuition is compounded from a manifold init, but only how the existence of the conditioned object correspondingto it is added to the existence of the condition (added, namely, inthe understanding as connected therewith); and in that case it wasallowable to suppose in the supersensible world the unconditionedantecedent to the altogether conditioned in the world of sense (bothas regards the causal connection and the contingent existence ofthings themselves), although this unconditioned remainedindeterminate, and to make the synthesis transcendent. Hence, it wasfound in the Dialectic of the Pure Speculative Reason that the twoapparently opposite methods of obtaining for the conditioned theunconditioned were not really contradictory, e. G. , in the synthesis ofcausality to conceive for the conditioned in the series of causesand effects of the sensible world, a causality which has no sensiblecondition, and that the same action which, as belonging to the worldof sense, is always sensibly conditioned, that is, mechanicallynecessary, yet at the same time may be derived from a causality notsensibly conditioned- being the causality of the acting being asbelonging to the supersensible world- and may consequently beconceived as free. Now, the only point in question was to changethis may be into is; that is, that we should be able to show in anactual case, as it were by a fact, that certain actions imply such acausality (namely, the intellectual, sensibly unconditioned), whether they are actual or only commanded, that is, objectivelynecessary in a practical sense. We could not hope to find thisconnections in actions actually given in experience as events of thesensible world, since causality with freedom must always be soughtoutside the world of sense in the world of intelligence. But things ofsense of sense in the world of intelligence. But things of sense arethe only things offered to our perception and observation. Hence, nothing remained but to find an incontestable objective principle ofcausality which excludes all sensible conditions: that is, a principlein which reason does not appeal further to something else as adetermining ground of its causality, but contains this determiningground itself by means of that principle, and in which therefore it isitself as pure reason practical. Now, this principle had not to besearched for or discovered; it had long been in the reason of all men, and incorporated in their nature, and is the principle of morality. Therefore, that unconditioned causality, with the faculty of it, namely, freedom, is no longer merely indefinitely andproblematically thought (this speculative reason could prove to befeasible), but is even as regards the law of its causalitydefinitely and assertorially known; and with it the fact that abeing (I myself), belonging to the world of sense, belongs also to thesupersensible world, this is also positively known, and thus thereality of the supersensible world is established and in practicalrespects definitely given, and this definiteness, which fortheoretical purposes would be transcendent, is for practicalpurposes immanent. We could not, however, make a similar step asregards the second dynamical idea, namely, that of a necessarybeing. We could not rise to it from the sensible world without the aidof the first dynamical idea. For if we attempted to do so, we shouldhave ventured to leave at a bound all that is given to us, and to leapto that of which nothing is given us that can help us to effect theconnection of such a supersensible being with the world of sense(since the necessary being would have to be known as given outsideourselves). On the other hand, it is now obvious that thisconnection is quite possible in relation to our own subject, inasmuch as I know myself to be on the one side as an intelligible[supersensible] being determined by the moral law (by means offreedom), and on the other side as acting in the world of sense. It isthe concept of freedom alone that enables us to find the unconditionedand intelligible for the conditioned and sensible without going out ofourselves. For it is our own reason that by means of the supreme andunconditional practical law knows that itself and the being that isconscious of this law (our own person) belong to the pure world ofunderstanding, and moreover defines the manner in which, as such, itcan be active. In this way it can be understood why in the wholefaculty of reason it is the practical reason only that can help usto pass beyond the world of sense and give us knowledge of asupersensible order and connection, which, however, for this veryreason cannot be extended further than is necessary for pure practicalpurposes. 

Let me be permitted on this occasion to make one more remark, namely, that every step that we make with pure reason, even in thepractical sphere where no attention is paid to subtle speculation, nevertheless accords with all the material points of the Critique ofthe Theoretical Reason as closely and directly as if each step hadbeen thought out with deliberate purpose to establish thisconfirmation. Such a thorough agreement, wholly unsought for and quiteobvious (as anyone can convince himself, if he will only carry moralinquiries up to their principles), between the most importantproposition of practical reason and the often seemingly too subtle andneedless remarks of the Critique of the Speculative Reason, occasions surprise and astonishment, and confirms the maxim alreadyrecognized and praised by others, namely, that in every scientificinquiry we should pursue our way steadily with all possibleexactness and frankness, without caring for any objections that may beraised from outside its sphere, but, as far as we can, to carry outour inquiry truthfully and completely by itself. Frequentobservation has convinced me that, when such researches are concluded, that which in one part of them appeared to me very questionable, considered in relation to other extraneous doctrines, when I left thisdoubtfulness out of sight for a time and only attended to the businessin hand until it was completed, at last was unexpectedly found toagree perfectly with what had been discovered separately without theleast regard to those doctrines, and without any partiality orprejudice for them. Authors would save themselves many errors and muchlabour lost (because spent on a delusion) if they could only resolveto go to work with more frankness. 

BOOK_2|CHAPTER_1

 BOOK II. Dialectic of Pure Practical Reason. 

CHAPTER I. Of a Dialectic of Pure Practical Reason Generally. 

Pure reason always has its dialetic, whether it is considered in itsspeculative or its practical employment; for it requires theabsolute totality of the 'conditions of what is given conditioned, andthis can only be found in things in themselves. But as all conceptionsof things in themselves must be referred to intuitions, and with usmen these can never be other than sensible and hence can neverenable us to know objects as things in themselves but only asappearances, and since the unconditioned can never be found in thischain of appearances which consists only of conditioned andconditions; thus from applying this rational idea of the totality ofthe conditions (in other words of the unconditioned) to appearances, there arises an inevitable illusion, as if these latter were things inthemselves (for in the absence of a warning critique they are alwaysregarded as such). This illusion would never be noticed as delusive ifit did not betray itself by a conflict of reason with itself, whenit applies to appearances its fundamental principle of presupposingthe unconditioned to everything conditioned. By this, however, reason is compelled to trace this illusion to its source, and searchhow it can be removed, and this can only be done by a completecritical examination of the whole pure faculty of reason; so thatthe antinomy of the pure reason which is manifest in its dialecticis in fact the most beneficial error into which human reason couldever have fallen, since it at last drives us to search for the keyto escape from this labyrinth; and when this key is found, itfurther discovers that which we did not seek but yet had need of, namely, a view into a higher and an immutable order of things, inwhich we even now are, and in which we are thereby enabled by definiteprecepts to continue to live according to the highest dictates ofreason. 

It may be seen in detail in the Critique of Pure Reason how in itsspeculative employment this natural dialectic is to be solved, and howthe error which arises from a very natural illusion may be guardedagainst. But reason in its practical use is not a whit better off. As pure practical reason, it likewise seeks to find theunconditioned for the practically conditioned (which rests oninclinations and natural wants), and this is not as the determiningprinciple of the will, but even when this is given (in the morallaw) it seeks the unconditioned totality of the object of purepractical reason under the name of the summum bonum. 

To define this idea practically, i. E. , sufficiently for the maximsof our rational conduct, is the business of practical wisdom, and thisagain as a science is philosophy, in the sense in which the word wasunderstood by the ancients, with whom it meant instruction in theconception in which the summum bonum was to be placed, and the conductby which it was to be obtained. It would be well to leave this word inits ancient signification as a doctrine of the summum bonum, so far asreason endeavours to make this into a science. For on the one band therestriction annexed would suit the Greek expression (which signifiesthe love of wisdom), and yet at the same time would be sufficient toembrace under the name of philosophy the love of science: that is tosay, of all speculative rational knowledge, so far as it isserviceable to reason, both for that conception and also for thepractical principle determining our conduct, without letting out ofsight the main end, on account of which alone it can be called adoctrine of practical wisdom. On the other hand, it would be no harmto deter the self-conceit of one who ventures to claim the title ofphilosopher by holding before him in the very definition a standard ofself-estimation which would very much lower his pretensions. For ateacher of wisdom would mean something more than a scholar who has notcome so far as to guide himself, much less to guide others, withcertain expectation of attaining so high an end: it would mean amaster in the knowledge of wisdom, which implies more than a modestman would claim for himself. Thus philosophy as well as wisdom wouldalways remain an ideal, which objectively is presented complete inreason alone, while subjectively for the person it is only the goal ofhis unceasing endeavours; and no one would be justified inprofessing to be in possession of it so as to assume the name ofphilosopher who could not also show its infallible effects in hisown person as an example (in his self-mastery and the unquestionedinterest that he takes pre-eminently in the general good), and thisthe ancients also required as a condition of deserving that honourabletitle. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_1 ^paragraph 5}

We have another preliminary remark to make respecting thedialectic of the pure practical reason, on the point of the definitionof the summum bonum (a successful solution of which dialectic wouldlead us to expect, as in case of that of the theoretical reason, themost beneficial effects, inasmuch as the self-contradictions of purepractical reason honestly stated, and not concealed, force us toundertake a complete critique of this faculty). 

The moral law is the sole determining principle of a pure will. But since this is merely formal (viz. , as prescribing only the form ofthe maxim as universally legislative), it abstracts as a determiningprinciple from all matter that is to say, from every object ofvolition. Hence, though the summum bonum may be the whole object ofa pure practical reason, i. E. , a pure will, yet it is not on thataccount to be regarded as its determining principle; and the moral lawalone must be regarded as the principle on which that and itsrealization or promotion are aimed at. This remark is important inso delicate a case as the determination of moral principles, where theslightest misinterpretation perverts men's minds. For it will havebeen seen from the Analytic that, if we assume any object under thename of a good as a determining principle of the will prior to themoral law and then deduce from it the supreme practical principle, this would always introduce heteronomy and crush out the moralprinciple. 

It is, however, evident that if the notion of the summum bonumincludes that of the moral law as its supreme condition, then thesummum bonum would not merely be an object, but the notion of it andthe conception of its existence as possible by our own practicalreason would likewise be the determining principle of the will, since in that case the will is in fact determined by the moral lawwhich is already included in this conception, and by no otherobject, as the principle of autonomy requires. This order of theconceptions of determination of the will must not be lost sight of, asotherwise we should misunderstand ourselves and think we had falleninto a contradiction, while everything remains in perfect harmony. 

BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2

 CHAPTER II. Of the Dialectic of Pure Reason in defining the

 Conception of the "Summum Bonum". 

The conception of the summum itself contains an ambiguity whichmight occasion needless disputes if we did not attend to it. Thesummum may mean either the supreme (supremum) or the perfect(consummatum). The former is that condition which is itselfunconditioned, i. E. , is not subordinate to any other (originarium);the second is that whole which is not a part of a greater whole of thesame kind (perfectissimum). It has been shown in the Analytic thatvirtue (as worthiness to be happy) is the supreme condition of allthat can appear to us desirable, and consequently of all our pursuitof happiness, and is therefore the supreme good. But it does notfollow that it is the whole and perfect good as the object of thedesires of rational finite beings; for this requires happiness also, and that not merely in the partial eyes of the person who makeshimself an end, but even in the judgement of an impartial reason, which regards persons in general as ends in themselves. For to needhappiness, to deserve it, and yet at the same time not toparticipate in it, cannot be consistent with the perfect volition of arational being possessed at the same time of all power, if, for thesake of experiment, we conceive such a being. Now inasmuch as virtueand happiness together constitute the possession of the summum bonumin a person, and the distribution of happiness in exact proportionto morality (which is the worth of the person, and his worthiness tobe happy) constitutes the summum bonum of a possible world; hence thissummum bonum expresses the whole, the perfect good, in which, however, virtue as the condition is always the supreme good, since it has nocondition above it; whereas happiness, while it is pleasant to thepossessor of it, is not of itself absolutely and in all respects good, but always presupposes morally right behaviour as its condition. 

When two elements are necessarily united in one concept, they mustbe connected as reason and consequence, and this either so thattheir unity is considered as analytical (logical connection), or assynthetical (real connection) the former following the law ofidentity, the latter that of causality. The connection of virtue andhappiness may therefore be understood in two ways: either theendeavour to be virtuous and the rational pursuit of happiness are nottwo distinct actions, but absolutely identical, in which case no maximneed be made the principle of the former, other than what serves forthe latter; or the connection consists in this, that virtue produceshappiness as something distinct from the consciousness of virtue, as acause produces an effect. 

The ancient Greek schools were, properly speaking, only two, andin determining the conception of the summum bonum these followed infact one and the same method, inasmuch as they did not allow virtueand happiness to be regarded as two distinct elements of the summumbonum, and consequently sought the unity of the principle by therule of identity; but they differed as to which of the two was to betaken as the fundamental notion. The Epicurean said: "To beconscious that one's maxims lead to happiness is virtue"; the Stoicsaid: "To be conscious of one's virtue is happiness. " With the former, Prudence was equivalent to morality; with the latter, who chose ahigher designation for virtue, morality alone was true wisdom. 

While we must admire the men who in such early times tried allimaginable ways of extending the domain of philosophy, we must atthe same time lament that their acuteness was unfortunately misappliedin trying to trace out identity between two extremely heterogeneousnotions, those of happiness and virtue. But it agrees with thedialectical spirit of their times (and subtle minds are even nowsometimes misled in the same way) to get rid of irreconcilabledifferences in principle by seeking to change them into a mere contestabout words, and thus apparently working out the identity of thenotion under different names, and this usually occurs in cases wherethe combination of heterogeneous principles lies so deep or so high, or would require so complete a transformation of the doctrines assumedin the rest of the philosophical system, that men are afraid topenetrate deeply into the real difference and prefer treating it asa difference in questions of form. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 5}

While both schools sought to trace out the identity of the practicalprinciples of virtue and happiness, they were not agreed as to the wayin which they tried to force this identity, but were separatedinfinitely from one another, the one placing its principle on the sideof sense, the other on that of reason; the one in the consciousness ofsensible wants, the other in the independence of practical reason onall sensible grounds of determination. According to the Epicurean, thenotion of virtue was already involved in the maxim: "To promoteone's own happiness"; according to the Stoics, on the other hand, the feeling of happiness was already contained in the consciousness ofvirtue. Now whatever is contained in another notion is identicalwith part of the containing notion, but not with the whole, andmoreover two wholes may be specifically distinct, although theyconsist of the same parts; namely if the parts are united into a wholein totally different ways. The Stoic maintained that the virtue wasthe whole summum bonum, and happiness only the consciousness ofpossessing it, as making part of the state of the subject. TheEpicurean maintained that happiness was the whole summum bonum, andvirtue only the form of the maxim for its pursuit; viz. , therational use of the means for attaining it. 

Now it is clear from the Analytic that the maxims of virtue andthose of private happiness are quite heterogeneous as to their supremepractical principle, and, although they belong to one summum bonumwhich together they make possible, yet they are so far from coincidingthat they restrict and check one another very much in the samesubject. Thus the question: "How is the summum bonum practicallypossible?" still remains an unsolved problem, notwithstanding allthe attempts at coalition that have hitherto been made. The Analytichas, however, shown what it is that makes the problem difficult tosolve; namely, that happiness and morality are two specificallydistinct elements of the summum bonum and, therefore, theircombination cannot be analytically cognised (as if the man thatseeks his own happiness should find by mere analysis of his conceptionthat in so acting he is virtuous, or as if the man that follows virtueshould in the consciousness of such conduct find that he is alreadyhappy ipso facto), but must be a synthesis of concepts. Now since thiscombination is recognised as a priori, and therefore as practicallynecessary, and consequently not as derived from experience, so thatthe possibility of the summum bonum does not rest on any empiricalprinciple, it follows that the deduction [legitimation] of thisconcept must be transcendental. It is a priori (morally) necessaryto produce the summum bonum by freedom of will: therefore thecondition of its possibility must rest solely on a priori principlesof cognition. 

 I. The Antinomy of Practical Reason. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 10}

In the summum bonum which is practical for us, i. E. , to berealized by our will, virtue and happiness are thought asnecessarily combined, so that the one cannot be assumed by purepractical reason without the other also being attached to it. Now thiscombination (like every other) is either analytical or synthetical. Ithas been shown that it cannot be analytical; it must then besynthetical and, more particularly, must be conceived as theconnection of cause and effect, since it concerns a practical good, i. E. , one that is possible by means of action; consequently either thedesire of happiness must be the motive to maxims of virtue, or themaxim of virtue must be the efficient cause of happiness. The first isabsolutely impossible, because (as was proved in the Analytic)maxims which place the determining principle of the will in the desireof personal happiness are not moral at all, and no virtue can befounded on them. But the second is also impossible, because thepractical connection of causes and effects in the world, as the resultof the determination of the will, does not depend upon the moraldispositions of the will, but on the knowledge of the laws of natureand the physical power to use them for one's purposes; consequently wecannot expect in the world by the most punctilious observance of themoral laws any necessary connection of happiness with virtueadequate to the summum bonum. Now, as the promotion of this summumbonum, the conception of which contains this connection, is a priori anecessary object of our will and inseparably attached to the morallaw, the impossibility of the former must prove the falsity of thelatter. If then the supreme good is not possible by practical rules, then the moral law also which commands us to promote it is directed tovain imaginary ends and must consequently be false. 

 II. Critical Solution of the Antinomy of Practical Reason. 

The antinomy of pure speculative reason exhibits a similarconflict between freedom and physical necessity in the causality ofevents in the world. It was solved by showing that there is no realcontradiction when the events and even the world in which they occurare regarded (as they ought to be) merely as appearances; since oneand the same acting being, as an appearance (even to his own innersense), has a causality in the world of sense that always conformsto the mechanism of nature, but with respect to the same events, sofar as the acting person regards himself at the same time as anoumenon (as pure intelligence in an existence not dependent on thecondition of time), he can contain a principle by which that causalityacting according to laws of nature is determined, but which isitself free from all laws of nature. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 15}

It is just the same with the foregoing antinomy of pure practicalreason. The first of the two propositions, "That the endeavour afterhappiness produces a virtuous mind, " is absolutely false; but thesecond, "That a virtuous mind necessarily produces happiness, " isnot absolutely false, but only in so far as virtue is considered asa form of causality in the sensible world, and consequently only ifI suppose existence in it to be the only sort of existence of arational being; it is then only conditionally false. But as I am notonly justified in thinking that I exist also as a noumenon in aworld of the understanding, but even have in the moral law a purelyintellectual determining principle of my causality (in the sensibleworld), it is not impossible that morality of mind should have aconnection as cause with happiness (as an effect in the sensibleworld) if not immediate yet mediate (viz. , through an intelligentauthor of nature), and moreover necessary; while in a system of naturewhich is merely an object of the senses, this combination couldnever occur except contingently and, therefore, could not sufficefor the summum bonum. 

Thus, notwithstanding this seeming conflict of practical reason withitself, the summum bonum, which is the necessary supreme end of a willmorally determined, is a true object thereof; for it is practicallypossible, and the maxims of the will which as regards their matterrefer to it have objective reality, which at first was threatened bythe antinomy that appeared in the connection of morality withhappiness by a general law; but this was merely from amisconception, because the relation between appearances was takenfor a relation of the things in themselves to these appearances. 

When we find ourselves obliged to go so far, namely, to theconnection with an intelligible world, to find the possibility ofthe summum bonum, which reason points out to all rational beings asthe goal of all their moral wishes, it must seem strange that, nevertheless, the philosophers both of ancient and modern times havebeen able to find happiness in accurate proportion to virtue even inthis life (in the sensible world), or have persuaded themselves thatthey were conscious thereof. For Epicurus as well as the Stoicsextolled above everything the happiness that springs from theconsciousness of living virtuously; and the former was not so basein his practical precepts as one might infer from the principles ofhis theory, which he used for explanation and not for action, or asthey were interpreted by many who were misled by his using the termpleasure for contentment; on the contrary, he reckoned the mostdisinterested practice of good amongst the ways of enjoying the mostintimate delight, and his scheme of pleasure (by which he meantconstant cheerfulness of mind) included the moderation and controlof the inclinations, such as the strictest moral philosopher mightrequire. He differed from the Stoics chiefly in making this pleasurethe motive, which they very rightly refused to do. For, on the onehand, the virtuous Epicurus, like many well-intentioned men of thisday who do not reflect deeply enough on their principles, fell intothe error of presupposing the virtuous disposition in the personsfor whom he wished to provide the springs to virtue (and indeed theupright man cannot be happy if he is not first conscious of hisuprightness; since with such a character the reproach that his habitof thought would oblige him to make against himself in case oftransgression and his moral self-condemnation would rob him of allenjoyment of the pleasantness which his condition might otherwisecontain). But the question is: How is such a disposition possible inthe first instance, and such a habit of thought in estimating theworth of one's existence, since prior to it there can be in thesubject no feeling at all for moral worth? If a man is virtuouswithout being conscious of his integrity in every action, he willcertainly not enjoy life, however favourable fortune may be to himin its physical circumstances; but can we make him virtuous in thefirst instance, in other words, before he esteems the moral worth ofhis existence so highly, by praising to him the peace of mind thatwould result from the consciousness of an integrity for which he hasno sense?

On the other hand, however, there is here an occasion of a vitiumsubreptionis, and as it were of an optical illusion, in theself-consciousness of what one does as distinguished from what onefeels- an illusion which even the most experienced cannot altogetheravoid. The moral disposition of mind is necessarily combined with aconsciousness that the will is determined directly by the law. Now theconsciousness of a determination of the faculty of desire is alwaysthe source of a satisfaction in the resulting action; but thispleasure, this satisfaction in oneself, is not the determiningprinciple of the action; on the contrary, the determination of thewill directly by reason is the source of the feeling of pleasure, and this remains a pure practical not sensible determination of thefaculty of desire. Now as this determination has exactly the sameeffect within in impelling to activity, that a feeling of the pleasureto be expected from the desired action would have had, we easilylook on what we ourselves do as something which we merely passivelyfeel, and take the moral spring for a sensible impulse, just as ithappens in the so-called illusion of the senses (in this case theinner sense). It is a sublime thing in human nature to be determinedto actions immediately by a purely rational law; sublime even is theillusion that regards the subjective side of this capacity ofintellectual determination as something sensible and the effect of aspecial sensible feeling (for an intellectual feeling would be acontradiction). It is also of great importance to attend to thisproperty of our personality and as much as possible to cultivate theeffect of reason on this feeling. But we must beware lest by falselyextolling this moral determining principle as a spring, making itssource lie in particular feelings of pleasure (which are in factonly results), we degrade and disfigure the true genuine spring, thelaw itself, by putting as it were a false foil upon it. Respect, notpleasure or enjoyment of happiness, is something for which it is notpossible that reason should have any antecedent feeling as itsfoundation (for this would always be sensible and pathological); andconsciousness of immediate obligation of the will by the law is byno means analogous to the feeling of pleasure, although in relation tothe faculty of desire it produces the same effect, but fromdifferent sources: it is only by this mode of conception, however, that we can attain what we are seeking, namely, that actions be donenot merely in accordance with duty (as a result of pleasant feelings), but from duty, which must be the true end of all moral cultivation. 

Have we not, however, a word which does not express enjoyment, ashappiness does, but indicates a satisfaction in one's existence, ananalogue of the happiness which must necessarily accompany theconsciousness of virtue? Yes this word is self-contentment which inits proper signification always designates only a negativesatisfaction in one's existence, in which one is conscious ofneeding nothing. Freedom and the consciousness of it as a faculty offollowing the moral law with unyielding resolution is independenceof inclinations, at least as motives determining (though not asaffecting) our desire, and so far as I am conscious of this freedom infollowing my moral maxims, it is the only source of an unalteredcontentment which is necessarily connected with it and rests on nospecial feeling. This may be called intellectual contentment. Thesensible contentment (improperly so-called) which rests on thesatisfaction of the inclinations, however delicate they may beimagined to be, can never be adequate to the conception of it. For theinclinations change, they grow with the indulgence shown them, andalways leave behind a still greater void than we had thought tofill. Hence they are always burdensome to a rational being, and, although he cannot lay them aside, they wrest from him the wish tobe rid of them. Even an inclination to what is right (e. G. , tobeneficence), though it may much facilitate the efficacy of themoral maxims, cannot produce any. For in these all must be directed tothe conception of the law as a determining principle, if the action isto contain morality and not merely legality. Inclination is blindand slavish, whether it be of a good sort or not, and, when moralityis in question, reason must not play the part merely of guardian toinclination, but disregarding it altogether must attend simply toits own interest as pure practical reason. This very feeling ofcompassion and tender sympathy, if it precedes the deliberation on thequestion of duty and becomes a determining principle, is even annoyingto right thinking persons, brings their deliberate maxims intoconfusion, and makes them wish to be delivered from it and to besubject to lawgiving reason alone. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 20}

From this we can understand how the consciousness of this faculty ofa pure practical reason produces by action (virtue) a consciousness ofmastery over one's inclinations, and therefore of independence ofthem, and consequently also of the discontent that alwaysaccompanies them, and thus a negative satisfaction with one's state, i. E. , contentment, which is primarily contentment with one's ownperson. Freedom itself becomes in this way (namely, indirectly)capable of an enjoyment which cannot be called happiness, because itdoes not depend on the positive concurrence of a feeling, nor is it, strictly speaking, bliss, since it does not include completeindependence of inclinations and wants, but it resembles bliss in sofar as the determination of one's will at least can hold itself freefrom their influence; and thus, at least in its origin, this enjoymentis analogous to the self-sufficiency which we can ascribe only tothe Supreme Being. 

From this solution of the antinomy of practical pure reason, itfollows that in practical principles we may at least conceive aspossible a natural and necessary connection between theconsciousness of morality and the expectation of a proportionatehappiness as its result, though it does not follow that we can know orperceive this connection; that, on the other hand, principles of thepursuit of happiness cannot possibly produce morality; that, therefore, morality is the supreme good (as the first condition of thesummum bonum), while happiness constitutes its second element, butonly in such a way that it is the morally conditioned, but necessaryconsequence of the former. Only with this subordination is thesummum bonum the whole object of pure practical reason, which mustnecessarily conceive it as possible, since it commands us tocontribute to the utmost of our power to its realization. But sincethe possibility of such connection of the conditioned with itscondition belongs wholly to the supersensual relation of things andcannot be given according to the laws of the world of sense, although the practical consequences of the idea belong to the world ofsense, namely, the actions that aim at realizing the summum bonum;we will therefore endeavour to set forth the grounds of thatpossibility, first, in respect of what is immediately in our power, and then, secondly, in that which is not in our power, but whichreason presents to us as the supplement of our impotence, for therealization of the summum bonum (which by practical principles isnecessary). 

 III. Of the Primacy of Pure Practical Reason in its

 Union with the Speculative Reason. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 25}

By primacy between two or more things connected by reason, Iunderstand the prerogative, belonging to one, of being the firstdetermining principle in the connection with all the rest. In anarrower practical sense it means the prerogative of the interest ofone in so far as the interest of the other is subordinated to it, while it is not postponed to any other. To every faculty of the mindwe can attribute an interest, that is, a principle, that containsthe condition on which alone the former is called into exercise. Reason, as the faculty of principles, determines the interest of allthe powers of the mind and is determined by its own. The interest ofits speculative employment consists in the cognition of the objectpushed to the highest a priori principles: that of its practicalemployment, in the determination of the will in respect of the finaland complete end. As to what is necessary for the possibility of anyemployment of reason at all, namely, that its principles andaffirmations should not contradict one another, this constitutes nopart of its interest, but is the condition of having reason at all; itis only its development, not mere consistency with itself, that isreckoned as its interest. 

If practical reason could not assume or think as given anythingfurther than what speculative reason of itself could offer it from itsown insight, the latter would have the primacy. But supposing thatit had of itself original a priori principles with which certaintheoretical positions were inseparably connected, while these werewithdrawn from any possible insight of speculative reason (which, however, they must not contradict); then the question is: Whichinterest is the superior (not which must give way, for they are notnecessarily conflicting), whether speculative reason, which knowsnothing of all that the practical offers for its acceptance, shouldtake up these propositions and (although they transcend it) try tounite them with its own concepts as a foreign possession handed overto it, or whether it is justified in obstinately following its ownseparate interest and, according to the canonic of Epicurus, rejectingas vain subtlety everything that cannot accredit its objective realityby manifest examples to be shown in experience, even though itshould be never so much interwoven with the interest of thepractical (pure) use of reason, and in itself not contradictory to thetheoretical, merely because it infringes on the interest of thespeculative reason to this extent, that it removes the bounds whichthis latter had set to itself, and gives it up to every nonsense ordelusion of imagination?

In fact, so far as practical reason is taken as dependent onpathological conditions, that is, as merely regulating theinclinations under the sensible principle of happiness, we could notrequire speculative reason to take its principles from such asource. Mohammed's paradise, or the absorption into the Deity of thetheosophists and mystics would press their monstrosities on the reasonaccording to the taste of each, and one might as well have no reasonas surrender it in such fashion to all sorts of dreams. But if purereason of itself can be practical and is actually so, as theconsciousness of the moral law proves, then it is still only one andthe same reason which, whether in a theoretical or a practical pointof view, judges according to a priori principles; and then it is clearthat although it is in the first point of view incompetent toestablish certain propositions positively, which, however, do notcontradict it, then, as soon as these propositions are inseparablyattached to the practical interest of pure reason, it must acceptthem, though it be as something offered to it from a foreign source, something that has not grown on its own ground, but yet issufficiently authenticated; and it must try to compare and connectthem with everything that it has in its power as speculative reason. It must remember, however, that these are not additions to itsinsight, but yet are extensions of its employment in another, namely, a practical aspect; and this is not in the least opposed toits interest, which consists in the restriction of wild speculation. 

Thus, when pure speculative and pure practical reason are combinedin one cognition, the latter has the primacy, provided, namely, thatthis combination is not contingent and arbitrary, but founded a priorion reason itself and therefore necessary. For without thissubordination there would arise a conflict of reason with itself;since, if they were merely co-ordinate, the former would close itsboundaries strictly and admit nothing from the latter into its domain, while the latter would extend its bounds over everything and whenits needs required would seek to embrace the former within them. Norcould we reverse the order and require pure practical reason to besubordinate to the speculative, since all interest is ultimatelypractical, and even that of speculative reason is conditional, andit is only in the practical employment of reason that it is complete. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 30}

 IV. The Immortality of the Soul as a Postulate of

 Pure Practical Reason. 

The realization of the summum bonum in the world is the necessaryobject of a will determinable by the moral law. But in this will theperfect accordance of the mind with the moral law is the supremecondition of the summum bonum. This then must be possible, as wellas its object, since it is contained in the command to promote thelatter. Now, the perfect accordance of the will with the moral lawis holiness, a perfection of which no rational being of the sensibleworld is capable at any moment of his existence. Since, nevertheless, it is required as practically necessary, it can onlybe found in a progress in infinitum towards that perfect accordance, and on the principles of pure practical reason it is necessary toassume such a practical progress as the real object of our will. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 35}

Now, this endless progress is only possible on the supposition of anendless duration of the existence and personality of the same rationalbeing (which is called the immortality of the soul). The summum bonum, then, practically is only possible on the supposition of theimmortality of the soul; consequently this immortality, beinginseparably connected with the moral law, is a postulate of purepractical reason (by which I mean a theoretical proposition, notdemonstrable as such, but which is an inseparable result of anunconditional a priori practical law. 

This principle of the moral destination of our nature, namely, that it is only in an endless progress that we can attain perfectaccordance with the moral law, is of the greatest use, not merelyfor the present purpose of supplementing the impotence ofspeculative reason, but also with respect to religion. In default ofit, either the moral law is quite degraded from its holiness, beingmade out to be indulgent and conformable to our convenience, or elsemen strain their notions of their vocation and their expectation to anunattainable goal, hoping to acquire complete holiness of will, and sothey lose themselves in fanatical theosophic dreams, which whollycontradict self-knowledge. In both cases the unceasing effort toobey punctually and thoroughly a strict and inflexible command ofreason, which yet is not ideal but real, is only hindered. For arational but finite being, the only thing possible is an endlessprogress from the lower to higher degrees of moral perfection. TheInfinite Being, to whom the condition of time is nothing, sees in thisto us endless succession a whole of accordance with the moral law; andthe holiness which his command inexorably requires, in order to betrue to his justice in the share which He assigns to each in thesummum bonum, is to be found in a single intellectual intuition of thewhole existence of rational beings. All that can be expected of thecreature in respect of the hope of this participation would be theconsciousness of his tried character, by which from the progress hehas hitherto made from the worse to the morally better, and theimmutability of purpose which has thus become known to him, he mayhope for a further unbroken continuance of the same, however longhis existence may last, even beyond this life, * and thus he mayhope, not indeed here, nor in any imaginable point of his futureexistence, but only in the endlessness of his duration (which Godalone can survey) to be perfectly adequate to his will (withoutindulgence or excuse, which do not harmonize with justice). 

* It seems, nevertheless, impossible for a creature to have theconviction of his unwavering firmness of mind in the progresstowards goodness. On this account the Christian religion makes it comeonly from the same Spirit that works sanctification, that is, thisfirm purpose, and with it the consciousness of steadfastness in themoral progress. But naturally one who is conscious that he haspersevered through a long portion of his life up to the end in theprogress to the better, and this genuine moral motives, may wellhave the comforting hope, though not the certainty, that even in anexistence prolonged beyond this life he will continue in theseprinciples; and although he is never justified here in his own eyes, nor can ever hope to be so in the increased perfection of hisnature, to which he looks forward, together with an increase ofduties, nevertheless in this progress which, though it is directedto a goal infinitely remote, yet is in God's sight regarded asequivalent to possession, he may have a prospect of a blessedfuture; for this is the word that reason employs to designateperfect well-being independent of all contingent causes of theworld, and which, like holiness, is an idea that can be contained onlyin an endless progress and its totality, and consequently is neverfully attained by a creature. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 40}

V. The Existence of God as a Postulate of Pure Practical Reason. 

In the foregoing analysis the moral law led to a practical problemwhich is prescribed by pure reason alone, without the aid of anysensible motives, namely, that of the necessary completeness of thefirst and principle element of the summum bonum, viz. , morality;and, as this can be perfectly solved only in eternity, to thepostulate of immortality. The same law must also lead us to affirm thepossibility of the second element of the summum bonum, viz. , happinessproportioned to that morality, and this on grounds as disinterested asbefore, and solely from impartial reason; that is, it must lead to thesupposition of the existence of a cause adequate to this effect; inother words, it must postulate the existence of God, as thenecessary condition of the possibility of the summum bonum (anobject of the will which is necessarily connected with the morallegislation of pure reason). We proceed to exhibit this connectionin a convincing manner. 

Happiness is the condition of a rational being in the world withwhom everything goes according to his wish and will; it rests, therefore, on the harmony of physical nature with his whole end andlikewise with the essential determining principle of his will. Now themoral law as a law of freedom commands by determining principles, which ought to be quite independent of nature and of its harmonywith our faculty of desire (as springs). But the acting rational beingin the world is not the cause of the world and of nature itself. Thereis not the least ground, therefore, in the moral law for a necessaryconnection between morality and proportionate happiness in a beingthat belongs to the world as part of it, and therefore dependent onit, and which for that reason cannot by his will be a cause of thisnature, nor by his own power make it thoroughly harmonize, as far ashis happiness is concerned, with his practical principles. Nevertheless, in the practical problem of pure reason, i. E. , thenecessary pursuit of the summum bonum, such a connection is postulatedas necessary: we ought to endeavour to promote the summum bonum, which, therefore, must be possible. Accordingly, the existence of acause of all nature, distinct from nature itself and containing theprinciple of this connection, namely, of the exact harmony ofhappiness with morality, is also postulated. Now this supreme causemust contain the principle of the harmony of nature, not merely with alaw of the will of rational beings, but with the conception of thislaw, in so far as they make it the supreme determining principle ofthe will, and consequently not merely with the form of morals, butwith their morality as their motive, that is, with their moralcharacter. Therefore, the summum bonum is possible in the world onlyon the supposition of a Supreme Being having a causality correspondingto moral character. Now a being that is capable of acting on theconception of laws is an intelligence (a rational being), and thecausality of such a being according to this conception of laws ishis will; therefore the supreme cause of nature, which must bepresupposed as a condition of the summum bonum is a being which is thecause of nature by intelligence and will, consequently its author, that is God. It follows that the postulate of the possibility of thehighest derived good (the best world) is likewise the postulate of thereality of a highest original good, that is to say, of the existenceof God. Now it was seen to be a duty for us to promote the summumbonum; consequently it is not merely allowable, but it is anecessity connected with duty as a requisite, that we shouldpresuppose the possibility of this summum bonum; and as this ispossible only on condition of the existence of God, it inseparablyconnects the supposition of this with duty; that is, it is morallynecessary to assume the existence of God. 

It must be remarked here that this moral necessity is subjective, that is, it is a want, and not objective, that is, itself a duty, for there cannot be a duty to suppose the existence of anything (sincethis concerns only the theoretical employment of reason). Moreover, itis not meant by this that it is necessary to suppose the existenceof God as a basis of all obligation in general (for this rests, as hasbeen sufficiently proved, simply on the autonomy of reason itself). What belongs to duty here is only the endeavour to realize and promotethe summum bonum in the world, the possibility of which cantherefore be postulated; and as our reason finds it not conceivableexcept on the supposition of a supreme intelligence, the admissionof this existence is therefore connected with the consciousness of ourduty, although the admission itself belongs to the domain ofspeculative reason. Considered in respect of this alone, as aprinciple of explanation, it may be called a hypothesis, but inreference to the intelligibility of an object given us by the morallaw (the summum bonum), and consequently of a requirement forpractical purposes, it may be called faith, that is to say a purerational faith, since pure reason (both in its theoretical andpractical use) is the sole source from which it springs. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 45}

From this deduction it is now intelligible why the Greek schoolscould never attain the solution of their problem of the practicalpossibility of the summum bonum, because they made the rule of the usewhich the will of man makes of his freedom the sole and sufficientground of this possibility, thinking that they had no need for thatpurpose of the existence of God. No doubt they were so far rightthat they established the principle of morals of itselfindependently of this postulate, from the relation of reason only tothe will, and consequently made it the supreme practical conditionof the summum bonum; but it was not therefore the whole condition ofits possibility. The Epicureans had indeed assumed as the supremeprinciple of morality a wholly false one, namely that of happiness, and had substituted for a law a maxim of arbitrary choice according toevery man's inclination; they proceeded, however, consistentlyenough in this, that they degraded their summum bonum likewise, justin proportion to the meanness of their fundamental principle, andlooked for no greater happiness than can be attained by human prudence(including temperance and moderation of the inclinations), and this aswe know would be scanty enough and would be very different accordingto circumstances; not to mention the exceptions that their maxims mustperpetually admit and which make them incapable of being laws. TheStoics, on the contrary, had chosen their supreme practicalprinciple quite rightly, making virtue the condition of the summumbonum; but when they represented the degree of virtue required byits pure law as fully attainable in this life, they not onlystrained the moral powers of the man whom they called the wisebeyond all the limits of his nature, and assumed a thing thatcontradicts all our knowledge of men, but also and principally theywould not allow the second element of the summum bonum, namely, happiness, to be properly a special object of human desire, but madetheir wise man, like a divinity in his consciousness of the excellenceof his person, wholly independent of nature (as regards his owncontentment); they exposed him indeed to the evils of life, but madehim not subject to them (at the same time representing him also asfree from moral evil). They thus, in fact, left out the second elementof the summum bonum namely, personal happiness, placing it solely inaction and satisfaction with one's own personal worth, thusincluding it in the consciousness of being morally minded, in whichthey Might have been sufficiently refuted by the voice of their ownnature. 

The doctrine of Christianity, * even if we do not yet consider itas a religious doctrine, gives, touching this point, a conception ofthe summum bonum (the kingdom of God), which alone satisfies thestrictest demand of practical reason. The moral law is holy(unyielding) and demands holiness of morals, although all the moralperfection to which man can attain is still only virtue, that is, arightful disposition arising from respect for the law, implyingconsciousness of a constant propensity to transgression, or at least awant of purity, that is, a mixture of many spurious (not moral)motives of obedience to the law, consequently a self-esteem combinedwith humility. In respect, then, of the holiness which the Christianlaw requires, this leaves the creature nothing but a progress ininfinitum, but for that very reason it justifies him in hoping foran endless duration of his existence. The worth of a characterperfectly accordant with the moral law is infinite, since the onlyrestriction on all possible happiness in the judgement of a wise andall powerful distributor of it is the absence of conformity ofrational beings to their duty. But the moral law of itself does notpromise any happiness, for according to our conceptions of an order ofnature in general, this is not necessarily connected with obedience tothe law. Now Christian morality supplies this defect (of the secondindispensable element of the summum bonum) by representing the worldin which rational beings devote themselves with all their soul tothe moral law, as a kingdom of God, in which nature and morality arebrought into a harmony foreign to each of itself, by a holy Author whomakes the derived summum bonum possible. Holiness of life isprescribed to them as a rule even in this life, while the welfareproportioned to it, namely, bliss, is represented as attainable onlyin an eternity; because the former must always be the pattern of theirconduct in every state, and progress towards it is already possibleand necessary in this life; while the latter, under the name ofhappiness, cannot be attained at all in this world (so far as ourown power is concerned), and therefore is made simply an object ofhope. Nevertheless, the Christian principle of morality itself isnot theological (so as to be heteronomy), but is autonomy of purepractical reason, since it does not make the knowledge of God andHis will the foundation of these laws, but only of the attainment ofthe summum bonum, on condition of following these laws, and it doesnot even place the proper spring of this obedience in the desiredresults, but solely in the conception of duty, as that of which thefaithful observance alone constitutes the worthiness to obtain thosehappy consequences. 

* It is commonly held that the Christian precept of morality has noadvantage in respect of purity over the moral conceptions of theStoics; the distinction between them is, however, very obvious. TheStoic system made the consciousness of strength of mind the pivot onwhich all moral dispositions should turn; and although its disciplesspoke of duties and even defined them very well, yet they placed thespring and proper determining principle of the will in an elevation ofthe mind above the lower springs of the senses, which owe theirpower only to weakness of mind. With them therefore, virtue was a sortof heroism in the wise man raising himself above the animal natureof man, is sufficient for Himself, and, while he prescribes dutiesto others, is himself raised above them, and is not subject to anytemptation to transgress the moral law. All this, however, theycould not have done if they had conceived this law in all its purityand strictness, as the precept of the Gospel does. When I give thename idea to a perfection to which nothing adequate can be given inexperience, it does not follow that the moral ideas are thingtranscendent, that is something of which we could not even determinethe concept adequately, or of which it is uncertain whether there isany object corresponding to it at all, as is the case with the ideasof speculative reason; on the contrary, being types of practicalperfection, they serve as the indispensable rule of conduct andlikewise as the standard of comparison. Now if I consider Christianmorals on their philosophical side, then compared with the ideas ofthe Greek schools, they would appear as follows: the ideas of theCynics, the Epicureans, the Stoics, and the Christians are: simplicityof nature, prudence, wisdom, and holiness. In respect of the way ofattaining them, the Greek schools were distinguished from oneanother thus that the Cynics only required common sense, the othersthe path of science, but both found the mere use of natural powerssufficient for the purpose. Christian morality, because its precept isframed (as a moral precept must be) so pure and unyielding, takes fromman all confidence that be can be fully adequate to it, at least inthis life, but again sets it up by enabling us to hope that if weact as well as it is in our power to do, then what is not in our powerwill come in to our aid from another source, whether we know howthis may be or not. Aristotle and Plato differed only as to the originof our moral conceptions. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 50}

In this manner, the moral laws lead through the conception of thesummum bonum as the object and final end of pure practical reason toreligion, that is, to the recognition of all duties as divinecommands, not as sanctions, that is to say, arbitrary ordinances ofa foreign and contingent in themselves, but as essential laws of everyfree will in itself, which, nevertheless, must be regarded as commandsof the Supreme Being, because it is only from a morally perfect(holy and good) and at the same time all-powerful will, andconsequently only through harmony with this will, that we can hopeto attain the summum bonum which the moral law makes it our duty totake as the object of our endeavours. Here again, then, all remainsdisinterested and founded merely on duty; neither fear nor hopebeing made the fundamental springs, which if taken as principles woulddestroy the whole moral worth of actions. The moral law commands me tomake the highest possible good in a world the ultimate object of allmy conduct. But I cannot hope to effect this otherwise than by theharmony of my will with that of a holy and good Author of the world;and although the conception of the summum bonum as a whole, in whichthe greatest happiness is conceived as combined in the most exactproportion with the highest degree of moral perfection (possible increatures), includes my own happiness, yet it is not this that isthe determining principle of the will which is enjoined to promote thesummum bonum, but the moral law, which, on the contrary, limits bystrict conditions my unbounded desire of happiness. 

Hence also morality is not properly the doctrine how we shouldmake ourselves happy, but how we should become worthy of happiness. Itis only when religion is added that there also comes in the hope ofparticipating some day in happiness in proportion as we haveendeavoured to be not unworthy of it. 

A man is worthy to possess a thing or a state when his possession ofit is in harmony with the summum bonum. We can now easily see that allworthiness depends on moral conduct, since in the conception of thesummum bonum this constitutes the condition of the rest (which belongsto one's state), namely, the participation of happiness. Now itfollows from this that morality should never be treated as adoctrine of happiness, that is, an instruction how to become happy;for it has to do simply with the rational condition (conditio sine quanon) of happiness, not with the means of attaining it. But whenmorality has been completely expounded (which merely imposes dutiesinstead of providing rules for selfish desires), then first, after themoral desire to promote the summum bonum (to bring the kingdom ofGod to us) has been awakened, a desire founded on a law, and whichcould not previously arise in any selfish mind, and when for thebehoof of this desire the step to religion has been taken, then thisethical doctrine may be also called a doctrine of happiness becausethe hope of happiness first begins with religion only. 

We can also see from this that, when we ask what is God's ultimateend in creating the world, we must not name the happiness of therational beings in it, but the summum bonum, which adds a furthercondition to that wish of such beings, namely, the condition ofbeing worthy of happiness, that is, the morality of these samerational beings, a condition which alone contains the rule by whichonly they can hope to share in the former at the hand of a wiseAuthor. For as wisdom, theoretically considered, signifies theknowledge of the summum bonum and, practically, the accordance ofthe will with the summum bonum, we cannot attribute to a supremeindependent wisdom an end based merely on goodness. For we cannotconceive the action of this goodness (in respect of the happiness ofrational beings) as suitable to the highest original good, exceptunder the restrictive conditions of harmony with the holiness * ofhis will. Therefore, those who placed the end of creation in the gloryof God (provided that this is not conceived anthropomorphically as adesire to be praised) have perhaps hit upon the best expression. Fornothing glorifies God more than that which is the most estimable thingin the world, respect for his command, the observance of the holy dutythat his law imposes on us, when there is added thereto his gloriousplan of crowning such a beautiful order of things with correspondinghappiness. If the latter (to speak humanly) makes Him worthy oflove, by the former He is an object of adoration. Even men can neveracquire respect by benevolence alone, though they may gain love, sothat the greatest beneficence only procures them honour when it isregulated by worthiness. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 55}

* In order to make these characteristics of these conceptionsclear, I add the remark that whilst we ascribe to God variousattributes, the quality of which we also find applicable to creatures, only that in Him they are raised to the highest degree, e. G. , power, knowledge, presence, goodness, etc. , under the designations ofomnipotence, omniscience, omnipresence, etc. , there are three that areascribed to God exclusively, and yet without the addition ofgreatness, and which are all moral He is the only holy, the onlyblessed, the only wise, because these conceptions already imply theabsence of limitation. In the order of these attributes He is also theholy lawgiver (and creator), the good governor (and preserver) and thejust judge, three attributes which include everything by which Godis the object of religion, and in conformity with which themetaphysical perfections are added of themselves in the reason. 

That in the order of ends, man (and with him every rational being)is an end in himself, that is, that he can never be used merely as ameans by any (not even by God) without being at the same time an endalso himself, that therefore humanity in our person must be holy toourselves, this follows now of itself because he is the subject of themoral law, in other words, of that which is holy in itself, and onaccount of which and in agreement with which alone can anything betermed holy. For this moral law is founded on the autonomy of hiswill, as a free will which by its universal laws must necessarily beable to agree with that to which it is to submit itself. 

 VI. Of the Postulates of Pure Practical Reason Generally. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 60}

They all proceed from the principle of morality, which is not apostulate but a law, by which reason determines the will directly, which will, because it is so determined as a pure will, requires thesenecessary conditions of obedience to its precept. These postulates arenot theoretical dogmas but, suppositions practically necessary;while then they do [not] extend our speculative knowledge, they giveobjective reality to the ideas of speculative reason in general (bymeans of their reference to what is practical), and give it a right toconcepts, the possibility even of which it could not otherwise ventureto affirm. 

These postulates are those of immortality, freedom positivelyconsidered (as the causality of a being so far as he belongs to theintelligible world), and the existence of God. The first resultsfrom the practically necessary condition of a duration adequate to thecomplete fulfilment of the moral law; the second from the necessarysupposition of independence of the sensible world, and of thefaculty of determining one's will according to the law of anintelligible world, that is, of freedom; the third from thenecessary condition of the existence of the summum bonum in such anintelligible world, by the supposition of the supreme independentgood, that is, the existence of God. 

Thus the fact that respect for the moral law necessarily makes thesummum bonum an object of our endeavours, and the supposition thenceresulting of its objective reality, lead through the postulates ofpractical reason to conceptions which speculative reason mightindeed present as problems, but could never solve. Thus it leads: 1. To that one in the solution of which the latter could do nothing butcommit paralogisms (namely, that of immortality), because it could notlay hold of the character of permanence, by which to complete thepsychological conception of an ultimate subject necessarily ascribedto the soul in self-consciousness, so as to make it the realconception of a substance, a character which practical reasonfurnishes by the postulate of a duration required for accordancewith the moral law in the summum bonum, which is the whole end ofpractical reason. 2. It leads to that of which speculative reasoncontained nothing but antinomy, the solution of which it could onlyfound on a notion Problematically conceivable indeed, but whoseobjective reality it could not prove or determine, namely, thecosmological idea of an intelligible world and the consciousness ofour existence in it, by means of the postulate of freedom (the realityof which it lays down by virtue of the moral law), and with itlikewise the law of an intelligible world, to which speculative reasoncould only point, but could not define its conception. 3. Whatspeculative reason was able to think, but was obliged to leaveundetermined as a mere transcendental ideal, viz. , the theologicalconception of the first Being, to this it gives significance (in apractical view, that is, as a condition of the possibility of theobject of a will determined by that law), namely, as the supremeprinciple of the summum bonum in an intelligible world, by means ofmoral legislation in it invested with sovereign power. 

Is our knowledge, however, actually extended in this way by purepractical reason, and is that immanent in practical reason which forthe speculative was only transcendent? Certainly, but only in apractical point of view. For we do not thereby take knowledge of thenature of our souls, nor of the intelligible world, nor of the SupremeBeing, with respect to what they are in themselves, but we have merelycombined the conceptions of them in the practical concept of thesummum bonum as the object of our will, and this altogether apriori, but only by means of the moral law, and merely in reference toit, in respect of the object which it commands. But how freedom ispossible, and how we are to conceive this kind of causalitytheoretically and positively, is not thereby discovered; but only thatthere is such a causality is postulated by the moral law and in itsbehoof. It is the same with the remaining ideas, the possibility ofwhich no human intelligence will ever fathom, but the truth ofwhich, on the other hand, no sophistry will ever wrest from theconviction even of the commonest man. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 65}

VII. How is it possible to conceive an Extension of Pure

 Reason in a Practical point of view, without its

 Knowledge as Speculative being enlarged at

 the same time?

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 70}

In order not to be too abstract, we will answer this question atonce in its application to the present case. In order to extend a purecognition practically, there must be an a priori purpose given, thatis, an end as object (of the will), which independently of alltheological principle is presented as practically necessary by animperative which determines the will directly (a categoricalimperative), and in this case that is the summum bonum. This, however, is not possible without presupposing three theoretical conceptions(for which, because they are mere conceptions of pure reason, nocorresponding intuition can be found, nor consequently by the pathof theory any objective reality); namely, freedom, immortality, andGod. Thus by the practical law which commands the existence of thehighest good possible in a world, the possibility of those objectsof pure speculative reason is postulated, and the objective realitywhich the latter could not assure them. By this the theoreticalknowledge of pure reason does indeed obtain an accession; but itconsists only in this, that those concepts which otherwise it had tolook upon as problematical (merely thinkable) concepts, are nowshown assertorially to be such as actually have objects; becausepractical reason indispensably requires their existence for thepossibility of its object, the summum bonum, which practically isabsolutely necessary, and this justifies theoretical reason inassuming them. But this extension of theoretical reason is noextension of speculative, that is, we cannot make any positive useof it in a theoretical point of view. For as nothing is accomplishedin this by practical reason, further than that these concepts are realand actually have their (possible) objects, and nothing in the wayof intuition of them is given thereby (which indeed could not bedemanded), hence the admission of this reality does not render anysynthetical proposition possible. Consequently, this discovery doesnot in the least help us to extend this knowledge of ours in aspeculative point of view, although it does in respect of thepractical employment of pure reason. The above three ideas ofspeculative reason are still in themselves not cognitions; they arehowever (transcendent) thoughts, in which there is nothing impossible. Now, by help of an apodeictic practical law, being necessaryconditions of that which it commands to be made an object, theyacquire objective reality; that is, we learn from it that they haveobjects, without being able to point out how the conception of them isrelated to an object, and this, too, is still not a cognition of theseobjects; for we cannot thereby form any synthetical judgement aboutthem, nor determine their application theoretically; consequently, we can make no theoretical rational use of them at all, in which useall speculative knowledge of reason consists. Nevertheless, thetheoretical knowledge, not indeed of these objects, but of reasongenerally, is so far enlarged by this, that by the practicalpostulates objects were given to those ideas, a merely problematicalthought having by this means first acquired objective reality. Thereis therefore no extension of the knowledge of given supersensibleobjects, but an extension of theoretical reason and of its knowledgein respect of the supersensible generally; inasmuch as it is compelledto admit that there are such objects, although it is not able todefine them more closely, so as itself to extend this knowledge of theobjects (which have now been given it on practical grounds, and onlyfor practical use). For this accession, then, pure theoretical reason, for which all those ideas are transcendent and without object, hassimply to thank its practical faculty. In this they become immanentand constitutive, being the source of the possibility of realizing thenecessary object of pure practical reason (the summum bonum);whereas apart from this they are transcendent, and merely regulativeprinciples of speculative reason, which do not require it to assumea new object beyond experience, but only to bring its use inexperience nearer to completeness. But when once reason is inpossession of this accession, it will go to work with these ideas asspeculative reason (properly only to assure the certainty of itspractical use) in a negative manner: that is, not extending butclearing up its knowledge so as on one side to keep offanthropomorphism, as the source of superstition, or seemingextension of these conceptions by supposed experience; and on theother side fanaticism, which promises the same by means ofsupersensible intuition or feelings of the like kind. All these arehindrances to the practical use of pure reason, so that the removal ofthem may certainly be considered an extension of our knowledge in apractical point of view, without contradicting the admission thatfor speculative purposes reason has not in the least gained by this. 

Every employment of reason in respect of an object requires pureconcepts of the understanding (categories), without which no objectcan be conceived. These can be applied to the theoretical employmentof reason, i. E. , to that kind of knowledge, only in case anintuition (which is always sensible) is taken as a basis, andtherefore merely in order to conceive by means of- them an object ofpossible experience. Now here what have to be thought by means ofthe categories in order to be known are ideas of reason, whichcannot be given in any experience. Only we are not here concerned withthe theoretical knowledge of the objects of these ideas, but only withthis, whether they have objects at all. This reality is supplied bypure practical reason, and theoretical reason has nothing further todo in this but to think those objects by means of categories. This, aswe have elsewhere clearly shown, can be done well enough withoutneeding any intuition (either sensible or supersensible) because thecategories have their seat and origin in the pure understanding, simply as the faculty of thought, before and independently of anyintuition, and they always only signify an object in general, nomatter in what way it may be given to us. Now when the categoriesare to be applied to these ideas, it is not possible to give themany object in intuition; but that such an object actually exists, and consequently that the category as a mere form of thought is herenot empty but has significance, this is sufficiently assured them byan object which practical reason presents beyond doubt in theconcept of the summum bonum, the reality of the conceptions whichare required for the possibility of the summum bonum; without, however, effecting by this accession the least extension of ourknowledge on theoretical principles. 

When these ideas of God, of an intelligible world (the kingdom ofGod), and of immortality are further determined by predicates takenfrom our own nature, we must not regard this determination as asensualizing of those pure rational ideas (anthropomorphism), nor as atranscendent knowledge of supersensible objects; for thesepredicates are no others than understanding and will, considered tooin the relation to each other in which they must be conceived in themoral law, and therefore, only so far as a pure practical use ismade of them. As to all the rest that belongs to these conceptionspsychologically, that is, so far as we observe these faculties of oursempirically in their exercise (e. G. , that the understanding of manis discursive, and its notions therefore not intuitions butthoughts, that these follow one another in time, that his will has itssatisfaction always dependent on the existence of its object, etc. , which cannot be the case in the Supreme Being), from all this weabstract in that case, and then there remains of the notions bywhich we conceive a pure intelligence nothing more than just what isrequired for the possibility of conceiving a moral law. There isthen a knowledge of God indeed, but only for practical purposes, and, if we attempt to extend it to a theoretical knowledge, we find anunderstanding that has intuitions, not thoughts, a will that isdirected to objects on the existence of which its satisfaction doesnot in the least depend (not to mention the transcendental predicates, as, for example, a magnitude of existence, that is duration, which, however, is not in time, the only possible means we have of conceivingexistence as magnitude). Now these are all attributes of which wecan form no conception that would help to the knowledge of the object, and we learn from this that they can never be used for a theory ofsupersensible beings, so that on this side they are quite incapable ofbeing the foundation of a speculative knowledge, and their use islimited simply to the practice of the moral law. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 75}

This last is so obvious, and can be proved so clearly by fact, that we may confidently challenge all pretended natural theologians (asingular name) * to specify (over and above the merely ontologicalpredicates) one single attribute, whether of the understanding or ofthe will, determining this object of theirs, of which we could notshow incontrovertibly that, if we abstract from it everythinganthropomorphic, nothing would remain to us but the mere word, withoutour being able to connect with it the smallest notion by which wecould hope for an extension of theoretical knowledge. But as to thepractical, there still remains to us of the attributes ofunderstanding and will the conception of a relation to which objectivereality is given by the practical law (which determines a prioriprecisely this relation of the understanding to the will). When oncethis is done, then reality is given to the conception of the object ofa will morally determined (the conception of the summum bonum), andwith it to the conditions of its possibility, the ideas of God, freedom, and immortality, but always only relatively to the practiceof the moral law (and not for any speculative purpose). 

* Learning is properly only the whole content of the historicalsciences. Consequently it is only the teacher of revealed theologythat can be called a learned theologian. If, however, we choose tocall a man learned who is in possession of the rational sciences(mathematics and philosophy), although even this would be contraryto the signification of the word (which always counts as learning onlythat which one must be "learned" and which, therefore, he cannotdiscover of himself by reason), even in that case the philosopherwould make too poor a figure with his knowledge of God as a positivescience to let himself be called on that account a learned man. 

According to these remarks it is now easy to find the answer tothe weighty question whether the notion of God is one belonging tophysics (and therefore also to metaphysics, which contains the purea priori principles of the former in their universal import) or tomorals. If we have recourse to God as the Author of all things, inorder to explain the arrangements of nature or its changes, this is atleast not a physical explanation, and is a complete confession thatour philosophy has come to an end, since we are obliged to assumesomething of which in itself we have otherwise no conception, in orderto be able to frame a conception of the possibility of what we seebefore our eyes. Metaphysics, however, cannot enable us to attain bycertain inference from the knowledge of this world to the conceptionof God and to the proof of His existence, for this reason, that inorder to say that this world could be produced only by a God(according to the conception implied by this word) we should know thisworld as the most perfect whole possible; and for this purposeshould also know all possible worlds (in order to be able to comparethem with this); in other words, we should be omniscient. It isabsolutely impossible, however, to know the existence of this Beingfrom mere concepts, because every existential proposition, that is, every proposition that affirms the existence of a being of which Iframe a concept, is a synthetic proposition, that is, one by which Igo beyond that conception and affirm of it more than was thought inthe conception itself; namely, that this concept in theunderstanding has an object corresponding to it outside theunderstanding, and this it is obviously impossible to elicit by anyreasoning. There remains, therefore, only one single processpossible for reason to attain this knowledge, namely, to start fromthe supreme principle of its pure practical use (which in every caseis directed simply to the existence of something as a consequence ofreason) and thus determine its object. Then its inevitable problem, namely, the necessary direction of the will to the summum bonum, discovers to us not only the necessity of assuming such a FirstBeing in reference to the possibility of this good in the world, but, what is most remarkable, something which reason in its progresson the path of physical nature altogether failed to find, namely, anaccurately defined conception of this First Being. As we can know onlya small part of this world, and can still less compare it with allpossible worlds, we may indeed from its order, design, andgreatness, infer a wise, good, powerful, etc. , Author of it, but notthat He is all-wise, all-good, all-powerful, etc. It may indeed verywell be granted that we should be justified in supplying thisinevitable defect by a legitimate and reasonable hypothesis; namely, that when wisdom, goodness, etc, are displayed in all the parts thatoffer themselves to our nearer knowledge, it is just the same in allthe rest, and that it would therefore be reasonable to ascribe allpossible perfections to the Author of the world, but these are notstrict logical inferences in which we can pride ourselves on ourinsight, but only permitted conclusions in which we may be indulgedand which require further recommendation before we can make use ofthem. On the path of empirical inquiry then (physics), theconception of God remains always a conception of the perfection of theFirst Being not accurately enough determined to be held adequate tothe conception of Deity. (With metaphysic in its transcendental partnothing whatever can be accomplished. )

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 80}

When I now try to test this conception by reference to the object ofpractical reason, I find that the moral principle admits as possibleonly the conception of an Author of the world possessed of the highestperfection. He must be omniscient, in order to know my conduct up tothe inmost root of my mental state in all possible cases and intoall future time; omnipotent, in order to allot to it its fittingconsequences; similarly He must be omnipresent, eternal, etc. Thus themoral law, by means of the conception of the summum bonum as theobject of a pure practical reason, determines the concept of the FirstBeing as the Supreme Being; a thing which the physical (and in itshigher development the metaphysical), in other words, the wholespeculative course of reason, was unable to effect. The conceptionof God, then, is one that belongs originally not to physics, i. E. , to speculative reason, but to morals. The same may be said of theother conceptions of reason of which we have treated above aspostulates of it in its practical use. 

In the history of Grecian philosophy we find no distinct traces of apure rational theology earlier than Anaxagoras; but this is notbecause the older philosophers had not intelligence or penetrationenough to raise themselves to it by the path of speculation, atleast with the aid of a thoroughly reasonable hypothesis. What couldhave been easier, what more natural, than the thought which ofitself occurs to everyone, to assume instead of several causes ofthe world, instead of an indeterminate degree of perfection, asingle rational cause having all perfection? But the evils in theworld seemed to them to be much too serious objections to allow themto feel themselves justified in such a hypothesis. They showedintelligence and penetration then in this very point, that they didnot allow themselves to adopt it, but on the contrary looked aboutamongst natural causes to see if they could not find in them thequalities and power required for a First Being. But when this acutepeople had advanced so far in their investigations of nature as totreat even moral questions philosophically, on which other nations hadnever done anything but talk, then first they found a new andpractical want, which did not fail to give definiteness to theirconception of the First Being: and in this the speculative reasonplayed the part of spectator, or at best had the merit of embellishinga conception that had not grown on its own ground, and of applying aseries of confirmations from the study of nature now brought forwardfor the first time, not indeed to strengthen the authority of thisconception (which was already established), but rather to make ashow with a supposed discovery of theoretical reason. 

From these remarks, the reader of the Critique of Pure SpeculativeReason will be thoroughly convinced how highly necessary thatlaborious deduction of the categories was, and how fruitful fortheology and morals. For if, on the one hand, we place them in pureunderstanding, it is by this deduction alone that we can beprevented from regarding them, with Plato, as innate, and foundingon them extravagant pretensions to theories of the supersensible, towhich we can see no end, and by which we should make theology amagic lantern of chimeras; on the other hand, if we regard them asacquired, this deduction saves us from restricting, with Epicurus, alland every use of them, even for practical purposes, to the objects andmotives of the senses. But now that the Critique has shown by thatdeduction, first, that they are not of empirical origin, but havetheir seat and source a priori in the pure understanding; secondly, that as they refer to objects in general independently of theintuition of them, hence, although they cannot effect theoreticalknowledge, except in application to empirical objects, yet whenapplied to an object given by pure practical reason they enable usto conceive the supersensible definitely, only so far, however, asit is defined by such predicates as are necessarily connected with thepure practical purpose given a priori and with its possibility. Thespeculative restriction of pure reason and its practical extensionbring it into that relation of equality in which reason in general canbe employed suitably to its end, and this example proves better thanany other that the path to wisdom, if it is to be made sure and not tobe impassable or misleading, must with us men inevitably passthrough science; but it is not till this is complete that we can beconvinced that it leads to this goal. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 85}

 VIII. Of Belief from a Requirement of Pure Reason. 

A want or requirement of pure reason in its speculative use leadsonly to a hypothesis; that of pure practical reason to a postulate;for in the former case I ascend from the result as high as I please inthe series of causes, not in order to give objective reality to theresult (e. G. , the causal connection of things and changes in theworld), but in order thoroughly to satisfy my inquiring reason inrespect of it. Thus I see before me order and design in nature, andneed not resort to speculation to assure myself of their reality, but to explain them I have to presuppose a Deity as their cause; andthen since the inference from an effect to a definite cause isalways uncertain and doubtful, especially to a cause so precise and soperfectly defined as we have to conceive in God, hence the highestdegree of certainty to which this pre-supposition can be brought isthat it is the most rational opinion for us men. * On the other hand, a requirement of pure practical reason is based on a duty, that ofmaking something (the summum bonum) the object of my will so as topromote it with all my powers; in which case I must suppose itspossibility and, consequently, also the conditions necessarythereto, namely, God, freedom, and immortality; since I cannot provethese by my speculative reason, although neither can I refute them. This duty is founded on something that is indeed quite independentof these suppositions and is of itself apodeictically certain, namely, the moral law; and so far it needs no further support by theoreticalviews as to the inner constitution of things, the secret final aimof the order of the world, or a presiding ruler thereof, in order tobind me in the most perfect manner to act in unconditionalconformity to the law. But the subjective effect of this law, namely, the mental disposition conformed to it and made necessary byit, to promote the practically possible summum bonum, thispre-supposes at least that the latter is possible, for it would bepractically impossible to strive after the object of a conceptionwhich at bottom was empty and had no object. Now the above-mentionedpostulates concern only the physical or metaphysical conditions of thepossibility of the summum bonum; in a word, those which lie in thenature of things; not, however, for the sake of an arbitraryspeculative purpose, but of a practically necessary end of a purerational will, which in this case does not choose, but obeys aninexorable command of reason, the foundation of which is objective, inthe constitution of things as they must be universally judged bypure reason, and is not based on inclination; for we are in nowisejustified in assuming, on account of what we wish on merely subjectivegrounds, that the means thereto are possible or that its object isreal. This, then, is an absolutely necessary requirement, and whatit pre-supposes is not merely justified as an allowable hypothesis, but as a postulate in a practical point of view; and admitting thatthe pure moral law inexorably binds every man as a command (not as arule of prudence), the righteous man may say: "I will that there bea God, that my existence in this world be also an existence outsidethe chain of physical causes and in a pure world of the understanding, and lastly, that my duration be endless; I firmly abide by this, andwill not let this faith be taken from me; for in this instance alonemy interest, because I must not relax anything of it, inevitablydetermines my judgement, without regarding sophistries, however unableI may be to answer them or to oppose them with others moreplausible. *(2)

* But even here we should not be able to allege a requirement ofreason, if we had not before our eyes a problematical, but yetinevitable, conception of reason, namely, that of an absolutelynecessary being. This conception now seeks to be defined, and this, inaddition to the tendency to extend itself, is the objective groundof a requirement of speculative reason, namely, to have a more precisedefinition of the conception of a necessary being which is to serve asthe first cause of other beings, so as to make these latter knowableby some means. Without such antecedent necessary problems there are norequirements- at least not of pure reason- the rest are requirementsof inclination. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 90}

*(2) In the Deutsches Museum, February, 1787, there is adissertation by a very subtle and clear-headed man, the lateWizenmann, whose early death is to be lamented, in which he disputesthe right to argue from a want to the objective reality of its object, and illustrates the point by the example of a man in love, whohaving fooled himself into an idea of beauty, which is merely achimera of his own brain, would fain conclude that such an objectreally exists somewhere. I quite agree with him in this, in allcases where the want is founded on inclination, which cannotnecessarily postulate the existence of its object even for the manthat is affected by it, much less can it contain a demand valid foreveryone, and therefore it is merely a subjective ground of thewish. But in the present case we have a want of reason springingfrom an objective determining principle of the will, namely, the morallaw, which necessarily binds every rational being, and thereforejustifies him in assuming a priori in nature the conditions proper forit, and makes the latter inseparable from the complete practical useof reason. It is a duty to realize the summum bonum to the utmost ofour power, therefore it must be possible, consequently it isunavoidable for every rational being in the world to assume what isnecessary for its objective possibility. The assumption is asnecessary as the moral law, in connection with which alone it isvalid. 

In order to prevent misconception in the use of a notion as yet sounusual as that of a faith of pure practical reason, let me bepermitted to add one more remark. It might almost seem as if thisrational faith were here announced as itself a command, namely, thatwe should assume the summum bonum as possible. But a faith that iscommanded is nonsense. Let the preceding analysis, however, beremembered of what is required to be supposed in the conception of thesummum bonum, and it will be seen that it cannot be commanded toassume this possibility, and no practical disposition of mind isrequired to admit it; but that speculative reason must concede itwithout being asked, for no one can affirm that it is impossible initself that rational beings in the world should at the same time beworthy of happiness in conformity with the moral law and alsopossess this happiness proportionately. Now in respect of the firstelement of the summum bonum, namely, that which concerns morality, themoral law gives merely a command, and to doubt the possibility of thatelement would be the same as to call in question the moral law itself. But as regards the second element of that object, namely, happinessperfectly proportioned to that worthiness, it is true that there is noneed of a command to admit its possibility in general, for theoreticalreason has nothing to say against it; but the manner in which wehave to conceive this harmony of the laws of nature with those offreedom has in it something in respect of which we have a choice, because theoretical reason decides nothing with apodeictic certaintyabout it, and in respect of this there may be a moral interest whichturns the scale. 

I had said above that in a mere course of nature in the world anaccurate correspondence between happiness and moral worth is not to beexpected and must be regarded as impossible, and that therefore thepossibility of the summum bonum cannot be admitted from this sideexcept on the supposition of a moral Author of the world. Ipurposely reserved the restriction of this judgement to the subjectiveconditions of our reason, in order not to make use of it until themanner of this belief should be defined more precisely. The fact isthat the impossibility referred to is merely subjective, that is, our reason finds it impossible for it to render conceivable in the wayof a mere course of nature a connection so exactly proportioned and sothoroughly adapted to an end, between two sets of events happeningaccording to such distinct laws; although, as with everything elsein nature that is adapted to an end, it cannot prove, that is, show bysufficient objective reason, that it is not possible by universal lawsof nature. 

Now, however, a deciding principle of a different kind comes intoplay to turn the scale in this uncertainty of speculative reason. The command to promote the summum bonum is established on an objectivebasis (in practical reason); the possibility of the same in general islikewise established on an objective basis (in theoretical reason, which has nothing to say against it). But reason cannot decideobjectively in what way we are to conceive this possibility; whetherby universal laws of nature without a wise Author presiding overnature, or only on supposition of such an Author. Now here there comesin a subjective condition of reason, the only way theoreticallypossible for it, of conceiving the exact harmony of the kingdom ofnature with the kingdom of morals, which is the condition of thepossibility of the summum bonum; and at the same time the only oneconducive to morality (which depends on an objective law of reason). Now since the promotion of this summum bonum, and therefore thesupposition of its possibility, are objectively necessary (though onlyas a result of practical reason), while at the same time the manner inwhich we would conceive it rests with our own choice, and in thischoice a free interest of pure practical reason decides for theassumption of a wise Author of the world; it is clear that theprinciple that herein determines our judgement, though as a want it issubjective, yet at the same time being the means of promoting whatis objectively (practically) necessary, is the foundation of a maximof belief in a moral point of view, that is, a faith of pure practicalreason. This, then, is not commanded, but being a voluntarydetermination of our judgement, conducive to the moral (commanded)purpose, and moreover harmonizing with the theoretical requirementof reason, to assume that existence and to make it the foundation ofour further employment of reason, it has itself sprung from themoral disposition of mind; it may therefore at times waver even in thewell-disposed, but can never be reduced to unbelief. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 95}

 IX. Of the Wise Adaptation of Man's Cognitive Faculties

 to his Practical Destination. 

If human nature is destined to endeavour after the summum bonum, we must suppose also that the measure of its cognitive faculties, and particularly their relation to one another, is suitable to thisend. Now the Critique of Pure Speculative Reason proves that this isincapable of solving satisfactorily the most weighty problems that areproposed to it, although it does not ignore the natural andimportant hints received from the same reason, nor the great stepsthat it can make to approach to this great goal that is set before it, which, however, it can never reach of itself, even with the help ofthe greatest knowledge of nature. Nature then seems here to haveprovided us only in a stepmotherly fashion with the faculty requiredfor our end. 

 {BOOK_2|CHAPTER_2 ^paragraph 100}

Suppose, now, that in this matter nature had conformed to our wishand had given us that capacity of discernment or that enlightenmentwhich we would gladly possess, or which some imagine they actuallypossess, what would in all probability be the consequence? Unlessour whole nature were at the same time changed, our inclinations, which always have the first word, would first of all demand theirown satisfaction, and, joined with rational reflection, the greatestpossible and most lasting satisfaction, under the name of happiness;the moral law would afterwards speak, in order to keep them withintheir proper bounds, and even to subject them all to a higher end, which has no regard to inclination. But instead of the conflict thatthe moral disposition has now to carry on with the inclinations, inwhich, though after some defeats, moral strength of mind may begradually acquired, God and eternity with their awful majesty wouldstand unceasingly before our eyes (for what we can prove perfectlyis to us as certain as that of which we are assured by the sight ofour eyes). Transgression of the law, would, no doubt, be avoided; whatis commanded would be done; but the mental disposition, from whichactions ought to proceed, cannot be infused by any command, and inthis case the spur of action is ever active and external, so thatreason has no need to exert itself in order to gather strength toresist the inclinations by a lively representation of the dignity ofthe law: hence most of the actions that conformed to the law wouldbe done from fear, a few only from hope, and none at all from duty, and the moral worth of actions, on which alone in the eyes ofsupreme wisdom the worth of the person and even that of the worlddepends, would cease to exist. As long as the nature of man remainswhat it is, his conduct would thus be changed into mere mechanism, in which, as in a puppet-show, everything would gesticulate well, but there would be no life in the figures. Now, when it is quiteotherwise with us, when with all the effort of our reason we have onlya very obscure and doubtful view into the future, when the Governor ofthe world allows us only to conjecture his existence and hismajesty, not to behold them or prove them clearly; and on the otherhand, the moral law within us, without promising or threateninganything with certainty, demands of us disinterested respect; and onlywhen this respect has become active and dominant, does it allow usby means of it a prospect into the world of the supersensible, andthen only with weak glances: all this being so, there is room for truemoral disposition, immediately devoted to the law, and a rationalcreature can become worthy of sharing in the summum bonum thatcorresponds to the worth of his person and not merely to hisactions. Thus what the study of nature and of man teaches ussufficiently elsewhere may well be true here also; that theunsearchable wisdom by which we exist is not less worthy of admirationin what it has denied than in what it has granted. 

PART_2|METHODOLOGY

 SECOND PART. 

 Methodology of Pure Practical Reason. 

By the methodology of pure practical reason we are not to understandthe mode of proceeding with pure practical principles (whether instudy or in exposition), with a view to a scientific knowledge ofthem, which alone is what is properly called method elsewhere intheoretical philosophy (for popular knowledge requires a manner, science a method, i. E. , a process according to principles of reason bywhich alone the manifold of any branch of knowledge can become asystem). On the contrary, by this methodology is understood the modein which we can give the laws of pure practical reason access to thehuman mind and influence on its maxims, that is, by which we canmake the objectively practical reason subjectively practical also. 

Now it is clear enough that those determining principles of the willwhich alone make maxims properly moral and give them a moral worth, namely, the direct conception of the law and the objective necessityof obeying it as our duty, must be regarded as the proper springs ofactions, since otherwise legality of actions might be produced, butnot morality of character. But it is not so clear; on the contrary, itmust at first sight seem to every one very improbable that evensubjectively that exhibition of pure virtue can have more power overthe human mind, and supply a far stronger spring even for effectingthat legality of actions, and can produce more powerful resolutions toprefer the law, from pure respect for it, to every otherconsideration, than all the deceptive allurements of pleasure or ofall that may be reckoned as happiness, or even than all threateningsof pain and misfortune. Nevertheless, this is actually the case, andif human nature were not so constituted, no mode of presenting the lawby roundabout ways and indirect recommendations would ever producemorality of character. All would be simple hypocrisy; the law would behated, or at least despised, while it was followed for the sake ofone's own advantage. The letter of the law (legality) would be foundin our actions, but not the spirit of it in our minds (morality);and as with all our efforts we could not quite free ourselves fromreason in our judgement, we must inevitably appear in our own eyesworthless, depraved men, even though we should seek to compensateourselves for this mortification before the inner tribunal, byenjoying the pleasure that a supposed natural or divine law might beimagined to have connected with it a sort of police machinery, regulating its operations by what was done without troubling itselfabout the motives for doing it. 

It cannot indeed be denied that in order to bring an uncultivated ordegraded mind into the track of moral goodness some preparatoryguidance is necessary, to attract it by a view of its own advantage, or to alarm it by fear of loss; but as soon as this mechanical work, these leading-strings have produced some effect, then we must bringbefore the mind the pure moral motive, which, not only because it isthe only one that can be the foundation of a character (apractically consistent habit of mind with unchangeable maxims), butalso because it teaches a man to feel his own dignity, gives themind a power unexpected even by himself, to tear himself from allsensible attachments so far as they would fain have the rule, and tofind a rich compensation for the sacrifice he offers, in theindependence of his rational nature and the greatness of soul to whichhe sees that he is destined. We will therefore show, by suchobservations as every one can make, that this property of our minds, this receptivity for a pure moral interest, and consequently themoving force of the pure conception of virtue, when it is properlyapplied to the human heart, is the most powerful spring and, when acontinued and punctual observance of moral maxims is in question, the only spring of good conduct. It must, however, be rememberedthat if these observations only prove the reality of such a feeling, but do not show any moral improvement brought about by it, this isno argument against the only method that exists of making theobjectively practical laws of pure reason subjectively practical, through the mere force of the conception of duty; nor does it provethat this method is a vain delusion. For as it has never yet come intovogue, experience can say nothing of its results; one can only ask forproofs of the receptivity for such springs, and these I will nowbriefly present, and then sketch the method of founding andcultivating genuine moral dispositions. 

 {PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 5}

When we attend to the course of conversation in mixed companies, consisting not merely of learned persons and subtle reasoners, butalso of men of business or of women, we observe that, besidesstory-telling and jesting, another kind of entertainment finds a placein them, namely, argument; for stories, if they are to have noveltyand interest, are soon exhausted, and jesting is likely to becomeinsipid. Now of all argument there is none in which persons are moreready to join who find any other subtle discussion tedious, nonethat brings more liveliness into the company, than that which concernsthe moral worth of this or that action by which the character ofsome person is to be made out. Persons, to whom in other casesanything subtle and speculative in theoretical questions is dry andirksome, presently join in when the question is to make out themoral import of a good or bad action that has been related, and theydisplay an exactness, a refinement, a subtlety, in excogitatingeverything that can lessen the purity of purpose, and consequently thedegree of virtue in it, which we do not expect from them in anyother kind of speculation. In these criticisms, persons who arepassing judgement on others often reveal their own character: some, inexercising their judicial office, especially upon the dead, seeminclined chiefly to defend the goodness that is related of this orthat deed against all injurious charges of insincerity, and ultimatelyto defend the whole moral worth of the person against the reproachof dissimulation and secret wickedness; others, on the contrary, turn their thoughts more upon attacking this worth by accusation andfault finding. We cannot always, however, attribute to these latterthe intention of arguing away virtue altogether out of all humanexamples in order to make it an empty name; often, on the contrary, itis only well-meant strictness in determining the true moral importof actions according to an uncompromising law. Comparison with sucha law, instead of with examples, lowers self-conceit in moralmatters very much, and not merely teaches humility, but makes everyone feel it when he examines himself closely. Nevertheless, we can forthe most part observe, in those who defend the purity of purpose ingiving examples that where there is the presumption of uprightnessthey are anxious to remove even the least spot, lest, if allexamples had their truthfulness disputed, and if the purity of allhuman virtue were denied, it might in the end be regarded as a merephantom, and so all effort to attain it be made light of as vainaffectation and delusive conceit. 

I do not know why the educators of youth have not long since madeuse of this propensity of reason to enter with pleasure upon themost subtle examination of the practical questions that are thrown up;and why they have not, after first laying the foundation of a purelymoral catechism, searched through the biographies of ancient andmodern times with the view of having at hand instances of the dutieslaid down, in which, especially by comparison of similar actions underdifferent circumstances, they might exercise the critical judgement oftheir scholars in remarking their greater or less moralsignificance. This is a thing in which they would find that even earlyyouth, which is still unripe for speculation of other kinds, wouldsoon Become very acute and not a little interested, because it feelsthe progress of its faculty of judgement; and, what is most important, they could hope with confidence that the frequent practice ofknowing and approving good conduct in all its purity, and on the otherhand of remarking with regret or contempt the least deviation from it, although it may be pursued only as a sport in which children maycompete with one another, yet will leave a lasting impression ofesteem on the one hand and disgust on the other; and so, by the merehabit of looking on such actions as deserving approval or blame, agood foundation would be laid for uprightness in the future courseof life. Only I wish they would spare them the example of so-callednoble (supermeritorious) actions, in which our sentimental books somuch abound, and would refer all to duty merely, and to the worth thata man can and must give himself in his own eyes by the consciousnessof not having transgressed it, since whatever runs up into emptywishes and longings after inaccessible perfection produces mere heroesof romance, who, while they pique themselves on their feeling fortranscendent greatness, release themselves in return from theobservance of common and every-day obligations, which then seem tothem petty and insignificant. *

* It is quite proper to extol actions that display a great, unselfish, sympathizing mind or humanity. But, in this case, we mustfix attention not so much on the elevation of soul, which is veryfleeting and transitory, as on the subjection of the heart to duty, from which a more enduring impression may be expected, because thisimplies principle (whereas the former only implies ebullitions). Oneneed only reflect a little and he will always find a debt that hehas by some means incurred towards the human race (even if it wereonly this, by the inequality of men in the civil constitution, enjoys advantages on account of which others must be the more inwant), which will prevent the thought of duty from being repressedby the self-complacent imagination of merit. 

 {PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 10}

But if it is asked: "What, then, is really pure morality, by whichas a touchstone we must test the moral significance of everyaction, " then I must admit that it is only philosophers that canmake the decision of this question doubtful, for to common sense ithas been decided long ago, not indeed by abstract general formulae, but by habitual use, like the distinction between the right and lefthand. We will then point out the criterion of pure virtue in anexample first, and, imagining that it is set before a boy, of sayten years old, for his judgement, we will see whether he wouldnecessarily judge so of himself without being guided by his teacher. Tell him the history of an honest man whom men want to persuade tojoin the calumniators of an innocent and powerless person (say AnneBoleyn, accused by Henry VIII of England). He is offered advantages, great gifts, or high rank; he rejects them. This will excite mereapprobation and applause in the mind of the hearer. Now begins thethreatening of loss. Amongst these traducers are his best friends, whonow renounce his friendship; near kinsfolk, who threaten to disinherithim (he being without fortune); powerful persons, who can persecuteand harass him in all places and circumstances; a prince, whothreatens him with loss of freedom, yea, loss of life. Then to fillthe measure of suffering, and that he may feel the pain that onlythe morally good heart can feel very deeply, let us conceive hisfamily threatened with extreme distress and want, entreating him toyield; conceive himself, though upright, yet with feelings not hard orinsensible either to compassion or to his own distress; conceivehim, I say, at the moment when he wishes that he had never lived tosee the day that exposed him to such unutterable anguish, yetremaining true to his uprightness of purpose, without wavering or evendoubting; then will my youthful hearer be raised gradually from mereapproval to admiration, from that to amazement, and finally to thegreatest veneration, and a lively wish that be himself could be such aman (though certainly not in such circumstances). Yet virtue is hereworth so much only because it costs so much, not because it brings anyprofit. All the admiration, and even the endeavour to resemble thischaracter, rest wholly on the purity of the moral principle, which canonly be strikingly shown by removing from the springs of actioneverything that men may regard as part of happiness. Morality, then, must have the more power over the human heart the more purely it isexhibited. Whence it follows that, if the law of morality and theimage of holiness and virtue are to exercise any influence at all onour souls, they can do so only so far as they are laid to heart intheir purity as motives, unmixed with any view to prosperity, for itis in suffering that they display themselves most nobly. Now thatwhose removal strengthens the effect of a moving force must havebeen a hindrance, consequently every admixture of motives taken fromour own happiness is a hindrance to the influence of the moral lawon the heart. I affirm further that even in that admired action, ifthe motive from which it was done was a high regard for duty, thenit is just this respect for the law that has the greatest influence onthe mind of the spectator, not any pretension to a supposed inwardgreatness of mind or noble meritorious sentiments; consequentlyduty, not merit, must have not only the most definite, but, when it isrepresented in the true light of its inviolability, the mostpenetrating, influence on the mind. 

It is more necessary than ever to direct attention to this method inour times, when men hope to produce more effect on the mind with soft, tender feelings, or high-flown, puffing-up pretensions, which ratherwither the heart than strengthen it, than by a plain and earnestrepresentation of duty, which is more suited to human imperfection andto progress in goodness. To set before children, as a pattern, actionsthat are called noble, magnanimous, meritorious, with the notion ofcaptivating them by infusing enthusiasm for such actions, is to defeatour end. For as they are still so backward in the observance of thecommonest duty, and even in the correct estimation of it, this meanssimply to make them fantastical romancers betimes. But, even withthe instructed and experienced part of mankind, this supposed springhas, if not an injurious, at least no genuine, moral effect on theheart, which, however, is what it was desired to produce. 

All feelings, especially those that are to produce unwontedexertions, must accomplish their effect at the moment they are attheir height and before the calm down; otherwise they effectnothing; for as there was nothing to strengthen the heart, but only toexcite it, it naturally returns to its normal moderate tone and, thus, falls back into its previous languor. Principles must be built onconceptions; on any other basis there can only be paroxysms, which cangive the person no moral worth, nay, not even confidence in himself, without which the highest good in man, consciousness of the moralityof his mind and character, cannot exist. Now if these conceptionsare to become subjectively practical, we must not rest satisfiedwith admiring the objective law of morality, and esteeming it highlyin reference to humanity, but we must consider the conception of it inrelation to man as an individual, and then this law appears in aform indeed that is highly deserving of respect, but not so pleasantas if it belonged to the element to which he is naturallyaccustomed; but on the contrary as often compelling him to quit thiselement, not without self-denial, and to betake himself to a higher, in which he can only maintain himself with trouble and withunceasing apprehension of a relapse. In a word, the moral lawdemands obedience, from duty not from predilection, which cannot andought not to be presupposed at all. 

Let us now see, in an example, whether the conception of anaction, as a noble and magnanimous one, has more subjective movingpower than if the action is conceived merely as duty in relation tothe solemn law of morality. The action by which a man endeavours atthe greatest peril of life to rescue people from shipwreck, at lastlosing his life in the attempt, is reckoned on one side as duty, buton the other and for the most part as a meritorious action, but ouresteem for it is much weakened by the notion of duty to himselfwhich seems in this case to be somewhat infringed. More decisive isthe magnanimous sacrifice of life for the safety of one's country; andyet there still remains some scruple whether it is a perfect duty todevote one's self to this purpose spontaneously and unbidden, andthe action has not in itself the full force of a pattern and impulseto imitation. But if an indispensable duty be in question, thetransgression of which violates the moral law itself, and withoutregard to the welfare of mankind, and as it were tramples on itsholiness (such as are usually called duties to God, because in Himwe conceive the ideal of holiness in substance), then we give our mostperfect esteem to the pursuit of it at the sacrifice of all that canhave any value for the dearest inclinations, and we find our soulstrengthened and elevated by such an example, when we convinceourselves by contemplation of it that human nature is capable of sogreat an elevation above every motive that nature can oppose to it. Juvenal describes such an example in a climax which makes the readerfeel vividly the force of the spring that is contained in the pure lawof duty, as duty:

 {PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 15}

 Esto bonus miles, tutor bonus, arbiter idem

 Integer; ambiguae si quando citabere testis

 Incertaeque rei, Phalaris licet imperet ut sis

 Falsus, et admoto dictet periuria tauro, Summum crede nefas animam praeferre pudori, {PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 20}

 Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas. *

* [Juvenal, Satirae, "Be you a good soldier, a faithful tutor, anuncorrupted umpire also; if you are summoned as a witness in adoubtful and uncertain thing, though Phalaris should command thatyou should be false, and should dictate perjuries with the bullbrought to you, believe it the highest impiety to prefer life toreputation, and for the sake of life, to lose the causes of living. "]

When we can bring any flattering thought of merit into our action, then the motive is already somewhat alloyed with self-love and hastherefore some assistance from the side of the sensibility. But topostpone everything to the holiness of duty alone, and to be consciousthat we can because our own reason recognises this as its commandand says that we ought to do it, this is, as it were, to raiseourselves altogether above the world of sense, and there isinseparably involved in the same a consciousness of the law, as aspring of a faculty that controls the sensibility; and although thisis not always attended with effect, yet frequent engagement withthis spring, and the at first minor attempts at using it, give hopethat this effect may be wrought, and that by degrees the greatest, andthat a purely moral interest in it may be produced in us. 

 {PART_2|METHODOLOGY ^paragraph 25}

The method then takes the following course. At first we are onlyconcerned to make the judging of actions by moral laws a naturalemployment accompanying all our own free actions, as well as theobservation of those of others, and to make it as it were a habit, andto sharpen this judgement, asking first whether the action conformsobjectively to the moral law, and to what law; and we distinguishthe law that merely furnishes a principle of obligation from thatwhich is really obligatory (leges obligandi a legibus obligantibus);as, for instance, the law of what men's wants require from me, ascontrasted with that which their rights demand, the latter of whichprescribes essential, the former only non-essential duties; and thuswe teach how to distinguish different kinds of duties which meet inthe same action. The other point to which attention must be directedis the question whether the action was also (subjectively) done forthe sake of the moral law, so that it not only is morally correct as adeed, but also, by the maxim from which it is done, has moral worth asa disposition. Now there is no doubt that this practice, and theresulting culture of our reason in judging merely of the practical, must gradually produce a certain interest even in the law of reason, and consequently in morally good actions. For we ultimately take aliking for a thing, the contemplation of which makes us feel thatthe use of our cognitive faculties is extended; and this extensionis especially furthered by that in which we find moral correctness, since it is only in such an order of things that reason, with itsfaculty of determining a priori on principle what ought to be done, can find satisfaction. An observer of nature takes liking at last toobjects that at first offended his senses, when he discovers in themthe great adaptation of their organization to design, so that hisreason finds food in its contemplation. So Leibnitz spared an insectthat he had carefully examined with the microscope, and replaced it onits leaf, because he had found himself instructed by the view of itand had, as it were, received a benefit from it. 

But this employment of the faculty of judgement, which makes us feelour own cognitive powers, is not yet the interest in actions and intheir morality itself. It merely causes us to take pleasure inengaging in such criticism, and it gives to virtue or thedisposition that conforms to moral laws a form of beauty, which isadmired, but not on that account sought after (laudatur et alget);as everything the contemplation of which produces a consciousness ofthe harmony of our powers of conception, and in which we feel thewhole of our faculty of knowledge (understanding and imagination)strengthened, produces a satisfaction, which may also becommunicated to others, while nevertheless the existence of the objectremains indifferent to us, being only regarded as the occasion ofour becoming aware of the capacities in us which are elevated abovemere animal nature. Now, however, the second exercise comes in, theliving exhibition of morality of character by examples, in whichattention is directed to purity of will, first only as a negativeperfection, in so far as in an action done from duty no motives ofinclination have any influence in determining it. By this thepupil's attention is fixed upon the consciousness of his freedom, and although this renunciation at first excites a feeling of pain, nevertheless, by its withdrawing the pupil from the constraint of evenreal wants, there is proclaimed to him at the same time adeliverance from the manifold dissatisfaction in which all these wantsentangle him, and the mind is made capable of receiving thesensation of satisfaction from other sources. The heart is freed andlightened of a burden that always secretly presses on it, wheninstances of pure moral resolutions reveal to the man an inner facultyof which otherwise he has no right knowledge, the inward freedom torelease himself from the boisterous importunity of inclinations, tosuch a degree that none of them, not even the dearest, shall haveany influence on a resolution, for which we are now to employ ourreason. Suppose a case where I alone know that the wrong is on myside, and although a free confession of it and the offer ofsatisfaction are so strongly opposed by vanity, selfishness, andeven an otherwise not illegitimate antipathy to the man whose rightsare impaired by me, I am nevertheless able to discard all theseconsiderations; in this there is implied a consciousness ofindependence on inclinations and circumstances, and of the possibilityof being sufficient for myself, which is salutary to me in general forother purposes also. And now the law of duty, in consequence of thepositive worth which obedience to it makes us feel, finds easieraccess through the respect for ourselves in the consciousness of ourfreedom. When this is well established, when a man dreads nothing morethan to find himself, on self-examination, worthless andcontemptible in his own eyes, then every good moral disposition can begrafted on it, because this is the best, nay, the only guard thatcan keep off from the mind the pressure of ignoble and corruptingmotives. 

I have only intended to point out the most general maxims of themethodology of moral cultivation and exercise. As the manifold varietyof duties requires special rules for each kind, and this would be aprolix affair, I shall be readily excused if in a work like this, which is only preliminary, I content myself with these outlines. 

PART_2|CONCLUSION

 CONCLUSION. 

Two things fill the mind with ever new and increasing admiration andawe, the oftener and the more steadily we reflect on them: thestarry heavens above and the moral law within. I have not to searchfor them and conjecture them as though they were veiled in darkness orwere in the transcendent region beyond my horizon; I see them beforeme and connect them directly with the consciousness of my existence. The former begins from the place I occupy in the external world ofsense, and enlarges my connection therein to an unbounded extentwith worlds upon worlds and systems of systems, and moreover intolimitless times of their periodic motion, its beginning andcontinuance. The second begins from my invisible self, my personality, and exhibits me in a world which has true infinity, but which istraceable only by the understanding, and with which I discern that Iam not in a merely contingent but in a universal and necessaryconnection, as I am also thereby with all those visible worlds. Theformer view of a countless multitude of worlds annihilates as itwere my importance as an animal creature, which after it has beenfor a short time provided with vital power, one knows not how, mustagain give back the matter of which it was formed to the planet itinhabits (a mere speck in the universe). The second, on thecontrary, infinitely elevates my worth as an intelligence by mypersonality, in which the moral law reveals to me a life independentof animality and even of the whole sensible world, at least so faras may be inferred from the destination assigned to my existence bythis law, a destination not restricted to conditions and limits ofthis life, but reaching into the infinite. 

But though admiration and respect may excite to inquiry, they cannotsupply the want of it. What, then, is to be done in order to enteron this in a useful manner and one adapted to the loftiness of thesubject? Examples may serve in this as a warning and also forimitation. The contemplation of the world began from the noblestspectacle that the human senses present to us, and that ourunderstanding can bear to follow in their vast reach; and it ended- inastrology. Morality began with the noblest attribute of humannature, the development and cultivation of which give a prospect ofinfinite utility; and ended- in fanaticism or superstition. So it iswith all crude attempts where the principal part of the businessdepends on the use of reason, a use which does not come of itself, like the use of the feet, by frequent exercise, especially whenattributes are in question which cannot be directly exhibited incommon experience. But after the maxim had come into vogue, thoughlate, to examine carefully beforehand all the steps that reasonpurposes to take, and not to let it proceed otherwise than in thetrack of a previously well considered method, then the study of thestructure of the universe took quite a different direction, andthereby attained an incomparably happier result. The fall of astone, the motion of a sling, resolved into their elements and theforces that are manifested in them, and treated mathematically, produced at last that clear and henceforward unchangeable insight intothe system of the world which, as observation is continued, may hopealways to extend itself, but need never fear to be compelled toretreat. 

This example may suggest to us to enter on the same path in treatingof the moral capacities of our nature, and may give us hope of alike good result. We have at hand the instances of the moral judgementof reason. By analysing these into their elementary conceptions, andin default of mathematics adopting a process similar to that ofchemistry, the separation of the empirical from the rationalelements that may be found in them, by repeated experiments oncommon sense, we may exhibit both pure, and learn with certaintywhat each part can accomplish of itself, so as to prevent on the onehand the errors of a still crude untrained judgement, and on the otherhand (what is far more necessary) the extravagances of genius, bywhich, as by the adepts of the philosopher's stone, without anymethodical study or knowledge of nature, visionary treasures arepromised and the true are thrown away. In one word, science(critically undertaken and methodically directed) is the narrow gatethat leads to the true doctrine of practical wisdom, if weunderstand by this not merely what one ought to do, but what oughtto serve teachers as a guide to construct well and clearly the road towisdom which everyone should travel, and to secure others from goingastray. Philosophy must always continue to be the guardian of thisscience; and although the public does not take any interest in itssubtle investigations, it must take an interest in the resultingdoctrines, which such an examination first puts in a clear light. 

 THE END