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R A N T 'S
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EY TEIE SAIMIE ATUTEIOIR.
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KANT'S INTRODUCTION TO LOGIG.
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1889.
“For heaven's sake, buy two books: KANT’s ‘Fundamental Principles
of the Metaphysic of Morals,’ and KANT’s ‘Critical Examination of
the Practical Reason.” KANT is not a light of the world, but a whole
solar system at once.”–JEAN PAUL RICHTER.
First Edzłzone of tha's ZYazas/afzon, 1873.
Second Edzºzozz (em/arged), 1879.
7%ard Edzłzozz (further en Zazged), 1883.
Fourth Editzozz, 1889.
DUBLIN : PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, BY Ponson BY AND WELDRICK.
TRAN SLATOR'S PREF A GE
TO
THIRD EDITION.
THIS volume contains the whole of Kant's works on
the General Theory of Ethics. It consists of four
parts:— º
I. A complete translation of the Grundlegung 2Ur
Metaphysik der Siłłen. This work was first published
in 1785.
II. A complete translation of the Kritik der Prak-
fischen Vernunft (first published in 1788).
III. A translation of the General Introduction to
the Metaphysical Elements of Moral Philosophy (Meta-
physische Anfangsgründe der Siłłenlehre), and of the
Preface and Introduction to the Metaphysical Elements
of Ethics (Metaph. Anfangsgründe der Tugendlehre).
IV. The first portion of Die Religion innerhalb der
Grenzen der blossen Vernunfº,” otherwise named Philoso-
phische Religionslehre. This portion was first published
* I. e. “Beligion, so far as it lies within the limits of Reason
alone”; not “pure Reason,” as some German, and perhaps all English,
vi TRANSLATOR’s PREFACE.
by Kant himself separately (in 1792), and it appears
to me to be indispensable to a complete view of Kant's
Ethics. The remainder of the work (first edition,
1793) does not come within the sphere of Ethics
proper.
I have added, in an appendix, a translation of
Kant's essay—Ueber ein vermeinſes Recht aus Menschen-
ſiebe 2u liigen (1797): Werke, ed. Rosenkr., vol. vii.,
which is interesting as throwing further light on -
Kant's application of his principles.
The first of these treatises and half of the second
were translated by Mr. Semple (Edinburgh, 1836;
reprinted 1869) in connexion with the greater part
of the Metaphysik der Sitten (which is concerned with
the discussion of particular virtues and vices). Mr.
Semple has also translated (in a distinct volume) the
Religion u. S. 20.
The edition which I have used is that of Kant's
whole works, by Rosenkranz and Schubert, vol. viii.
of which contains the Grundlegung and the Križák, and
vol. x. the Religion. For convenience of reference to
the original, I have given at the top of each page the
corresponding pages of Rosenkranz' edition. It is not
very accurately printed; and, where the errors are
obvious, I have silently corrected them; others I have
writers on the history of philosophy have it. Kant himself, indeed,
writes “reiner” in one place (p. 60, note); but this is, doubtless, a
slip, if not a printer's error. Slips of the same kind are frequent, as
my foot-notes show.
TRANSLATOR’s PREFACE. vii
noticed in foot-notes. Many of these errors seem to
have been handed down through all editions from the
first. Hartenstein's edition is more carefully revised,
and I have referred to it and to Kirchmann’s in cases
of doubt. Kant's grammatical errors, partly provin-
cialisms, partly due to his age, are usually corrected
by Hartenstein, but silently, which is a somewhat
questionable proceeding in an editor. Amongst these
errors are: uncertainty in the use of the indicative
and conjunctive; “an almost thoroughgoing misuse
of prepositions” (Hartenstein), and irregularities in
the gender of substantives. His use of “vor” for
“fir” has been generally corrected by editors: where
“vor” remains, the reader must remember that its
retention is a matter of judgment.
I have to express my obligation to Professor Selss
for his kindness in revising the proofs, and for many
valuable suggestions.
The Memoir prefixed will, it is hoped, prove inte-
resting.
In the present (fourth) edition some corrections
have been made.
The Portrait prefixed is from a photograph of an
oil-painting in the possession of Gräfe and Unzer,
booksellers, of Königsberg. It is inferior, as a work
of art, to the portrait engraved in the former edition;
viii TRANSLATOR’s PREFACE.
but as it represents Kant in the vigour of his age,
and, unlike the former, has never appeared in any
book, readers will probably be pleased with the sub-
stitution. I possess also a copy of a rare full-length
silhouette, photographic copies of which can be sup-
plied.
My notes are in square brackets.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
rage
MEMOIR, * tº * * - * e g * * e . xiii
I.
FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE METAPHYSIC OF
MORALS,
AUTHOR’s PREFACE, & * e º te * & e 1.
FIRST SECTION.
TRANSITION FROM THE COMMON RATIONAL KNOWLEDGE OF MoRALITY
TO THE PHILOSOPHICAL, e º te * ſº & © º 9.
SECOND SECTION.
TRANSITION FROM PopULAR MoRAL PHILOSOPHY TO THE METAPHYSIC
OF MORALS, e gº e e © º & & * © 23.
Autonomy of the Will the Supreme Principle of Morality, . 59
Heteronomy of the Will the Source of all Spurious Principles
of Morality, . e e {...} ge e * * e ib.
Classification of all Principles of Morality which can be
founded on the Conception of Heteronomy, . e º 60.
THIRD SECTION.
TRANSITION FROM THE METAPHYSIC of MoRALS TO THE CRITIQUE OF
PURE PRACTICAL REASON, . e e e e & • • 65.
The Concept of Freedom is the Key that explains the Auto-
nomy of the Will, . gº e e © te & * ib.
Freedom must be presupposed as a Property of the Will of all
Rational beings, . © e e º * º º 66.
Of the Interest attaching to the Ideas of Morality, tº gº 67
How is a Categorical Imperative possible P . e e º 73
Of the Extreme Limits of all Practical Philosophy, gº te 75.
Concluding Remark, . sº e e e e & & 83.
IX TABLE OF CONTENTS.
II.
CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF PRACTICAL REASON,
IPAGE
PREFACE, te g tº g º e tº & g * e 87
INTRODUCTION, & & * tº º & te © e ... 101
Of the Idea of a Critical Examination of Practical Reason, . ib.
P A R T FIR, S.T.
ELEMENTS OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
B O O K I.
THE ANALYTIC OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
CHAPTER I.
OF THE PRINCIPLES OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON, . º tº . 105
I. Of the Deduction of the Principles of Pure Practical
Reason, . & o tº e ſº de {e . 131
II. Of the Right of Pure Reason in its Practical Use to an
Extension which is not possible to it in its Speculative
Use, . & ſº tº ſº * * * * . 140
CHAPTER II.
OF THE CONCEPT OF AN OBJECT OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON, . . 148
Of the typic of the Pure Practical Judgment, g * . 159
CHAPTER III.
OF THE MOTIVES OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON, * wº 164
Critical Examination of the Analytic of Pure Practical Reason, 182
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
xi
B O O K II.
DIALECTIC OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
CHAPTER I.
OF A DIALECTIC of PURE PRACTICAL REASON GENERALLY,
CHAPTER II.
OF THE DIALECTIC OF PURE REASON IN DEFINING THE CONCEPTION OF
THE SUMMUM BONUM,
I.
II.
III.
IV.
W.
WI.
WII.
VIII.
IX.
Antinomy of Practical Reason,
Critical Solution of the Antinomy, .
Of the Primacy of Pure Practical Reason in its Union with
the Speculative Reason,
The Immortality of the Soul a Postulate of Pure Practical
Reason, {e tº ge is e ſº
The Existence of God a Postulate of Pure Practical
Reason,
Of the Postulates of Pure Practical Reason generally,
How is it possible to conceive an Extension of Pure
Reason in a Practical point of view, without its Know-
ledge as Speculative being enlarged at the same time P
Of Belief from a Requirement of Pure Reason,
Of the Wise Adaptation of Man's Cognitive Faculties to
his Practical Destination, o e ſº &
PAGE
202
206
209
210
216
218
220
229
231
240
244
P A R T S E O O N D.
METHODOLOGY of PURE PRACTICAL REASON,
CONCLUSION,
249
260
xii TABLE OF CONTENTS.
III.
INTRODUCTION TO THE METAPHYSIC OF MORALS : ANI)
PREFACE TO THE METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION TO THE METAPHYSIC OF MORALs, º e º . 265
I. Of the Relation of the Faculties of the Human Mind to the
Moral Laws, & e º º e e º e ib.
II. Of the Conception and the Necessity of a Metaphysic of
Ethics, º º º e º e g e . 270
III. Of the Subdivision of a Metaphysic of Morals, . º . 274
IV. Preliminary Notions belonging to the Metaphysic of Morals, 277
PREFACE TO THE METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICs, . • . 285
INTRODUCTION TO THE METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICs, . , 289.
NOTE ON CONSCIENCE, - t - e g e ſº * e . 321
& IV. -
FIRST PART OF THE PHILOSOPHICAL THEORY OF RELIGION.
OF THE RADICAL EVIL IN Hum AN NATURE, . e º e . 325
I. Of the Original Capacity for Good in Human Nature, . 332
II. Of the Propensity to Evil in Human Nature, . e . 335
III. Man is by Nature Bad, . • º º tº ſº . 339
IV. Of the Origin of the Evil in Human Nature, . e . 347
[W.]* On the Restoration of the Original Capacity for Good to
its Full Power, . © g º * © dº . 352
* So marked in Kalnt’s first edition.
APPENDIX, . º te • • e ſº o e * . 361
I. On a supposed Right to Tell Lies from Benevolent Motives, ib.
II. On the Saying, “Necessity has no Law,” . * e . 365
INDEX, . . . . . . . . . . . . 367
MEMOIR OF KANT.
IMMANUEL KANT was born in Königsberg on the 22nd
of April, 1724, thirteen years after Hume, and four-
teen after Reid. His family was of Scottish origin,
his grandfather having been one of the many Scotch-
men who emigrated from Scotland at the end of the
seventeenth century, some settling in Prussia, and
some in Sweden; and he is said to have been him-
self the first to change the spelling of the name from
Cant, which he did in order to avoid the mispronun-
ciation Zant. His father was a saddler in modest, if
not humble, circumstances. Both parents were persons
of simple and sincere piety. Kant himself, although
he did not sympathize with their religious views, bears
the strongest testimony to the practical effect of their
religion on their life. “Although,” said he, speaking
warmly, “the religious ideas of that time, and the
notions of what was called virtue and piety were far
from being distinct and satisfactory, yet such persons
had the root of the matter in them. Let men decry
pietism as they may, the people who were in earnest
with it were honourably distinguished. They pos-
sessed the highest that man can possess—that calm,
that serenity, that inward peace which is not dis-
turbed by any passion. No trouble, no persecution
dismayed them ; no contest had the power to stir
xiv. MEMOIR, OF EQANT.
them up to anger or hostility: in a word, even the
mere observer was involuntarily compelled to respect
them. I still remember,” added he, “how a quarrel
once broke out between the harnessmakers and the
saddlers about their respective privileges. My father
suffered considerably; nevertheless, even in conversa-
tion amongst his own family he spoke about this quarrel
with such forbearance and love towards his opponents,
and with such firm trust in Providence, that although
I was then only a boy, I shall never forget it.” Of
his mother, especially, he ever retained a tender and
grateful memory, saying, “I shall never forget my
mother, for she planted and fostered the first germ
of good in me: she opened my heart to the impres-
sions of nature, she awoke and enlarged my thoughts,
and her teaching has always had an enduring and
wholesome influence on my life.” She died when he
was only thirteen, and even in his later years he could
scarcely restrain his emotion, when he related to his
intimate friends how she had sacrificed her own life
through her devotion to a friend." Kant strongly re-
sembled his mother in features and in his singularly
contracted chest.
* The circumstances are worth recording here : This friend had
fallen into a fever in consequence of being abandoned by her betrothed
lover, to whom she was deeply attached. She could not be induced
to swallow the nauseous draughts prescribed for her, and Kant's
mother, who nursed her, having failed in her attempt at persuasion,
thought to succeed by setting the example of taking the medicine
herself. When she had done so, she was seized with nausea and
shivering, and at the same time observing spots on her friend’s body,
which she took for fever-spots or petechiae, her imagination was
excited, thinking that she had caught the infection. She was seized
with fever the same day, and died a few days after.
MEMOIR OF KANT. XV
At ten years of age Kant was sent to the Collegium
Fridericianum, where he continued for seven years.
Here he applied himself chiefly to classical studies,
and learned to write Latin with ease and fluency.
Of Greek he does not seem to have ever read much.
Amongst his schoolfellows was David Ruhnken,
and these two, with a third, named Kunde, read their
favourite authors together and laid their plans for the
future, all three proposing to devote themselves to
classical literature. Ruhnken actually attained high
distinction in this field. At the age of sixteen Kant
passed to the University, where he applied himself
chiefly to mathematics and philosophy, the instruc-
tion in his favourite subject, the ancient classics, being
inadequate. He had entered himself as a theological
student, and, as was then the practice with such
students in Prussia, he occasionally preached in the
neighbouring churches. Indeed, he had completed his
theological course when he finally gave up that line of
study. No doubt his tastes had been long turning in
a different direction ; but the immediate cause of his
decision seems to have been the failure of his appli-
cation for a subordinate post in a school, such posts
being usually the first step to ecclesiastical appoint-
ments.
During the latter part of his residence at the Uni-
versity he had been obliged to eke out his scanty
means by giving instruction in classics, mathematics,
and natural philosophy to some of his fellow-students,
for whom the lectures of the professors were too diffi-
cult; but the little that he could earn in this way was
insufficient for his support, when by his father's death
(1746) he was thrown altogether on his own resources.
xvi MEMOIR, OF KANT.
He therefore sought and obtained employment as a
resident tutor in families of distinction. He was thus
engaged for nine years, and, according to his own can-
did confession in later years, there was hardly ever a
tutor with a better theory or a worse practice. How-
ever that may be, he certainly gained the affection of
his pupils, and the respect of their parents. At the
beginning of this period he published his first work—
an Essay on the estimation of vis viva ; and towards
the end of it his second—a brief discussion of the
question whether the length of the day has undergone
any change, a question which had been proposed by
the Berlin Academy as the subject for a prize essay.
Kant argues that the tides must have the effect of
retarding the earth's rotation, and he enters into a
rough calculation of the amount of this retardation,
his first step to a conjectural approximation being an
estimate of the effect of the impulse of the water on
the whole east coast of the American continent. His
suggestion was sound' and sagacious; but he overrated
vastly the amount of the effect. He inferred that the
day had lengthened by about 14° in two thousand
years. According to Delaunay, the actual amount of
retardation is 1* in 200,000 years. This result is based
on historical facts (the record of eclipses). Kant's was
a purely physical calculation, and for this he did not
* See an Essay by the present writer on the Theory of the Tides
in the Philosophical Magazine, January, 1870; February, 1871; and
January, 1872; and in the Quarterly Journal of Mathematics, March,
1872; and on the amount of the retardation, Hermathena, 1882.
(These Essays have now been published in a volume.) Kant subse-
quently thought of another cause, which might operate in the oppo-
site direction, viz. the condensation of the interior parts of the earth.
FIe did not, however, publish the suggestion.
MEMOIR OF FOANT. xvii
possess sufficient data. On account of this inevitable
lack of precision, he did not offer his essay in compe-
tition for the prize.
The same essay contained another very remark-
able suggestion in explanation of the fact, that the
moon always presents the same face to the earth. In
fact, if the moon were originally in a fluid state the
tides produced in it by the earth (which would be very
great) would similarly retard its rotation until the fluid
surface attained a position of equilibrium relatively to
the earth, i.e. until the moon rotated round its axis
in the same time that it revolved round the earth.
This speculation has been recently brought forward
as novel.
The conjecture as to the moon’s original fluidity
was no isolated one in Kant's mind; on the contrary,
he speaks of it as part of a general theory of the
heavens, which he was about to publish. In the fol-
lowing year (1755), accordingly, he published (anony-
mously) an important work of about 200 pages, en-
titled, A General Theory of the Heavens; or, Essay on the
Mechanical Origin of the Structure of the Universe, on the
Principles of Wewton. This work is an elaborate exposi-
tion of the Nebular Theory, commonly called by the
name of Laplace, although Laplace's Système du Monde
was not published till forty years later (1796). The
only considerable differences are, first, that Laplace
supposes the condensation of the diffused matter to be
the result of cooling; and, secondly, that he postulates
an original movement of rotation ; whereas Kant
thought he could account for both condensation and
rotation from the two elementary forces of attraction
and repulsion. It is not easy to say whether Laplace
& b
xviii MEMOIR, OF EQANT.
was aware of Kant's priority. He asserts, indeed, that
he was not aware of any theory except Buffon's (a
rather extravagant one); but then Laplace never did
acknowledge that he borrowed anything from anybody
else. Even when he used the mathematical discoveries
of contemporary Frenchmen, he introduces them as if
they were his own; how much more if he adopted a
suggestion of an anonymous German philosopher. If
he really did calculate on the ignorance of his reader,
the event has justified his expectation; for even those
writers who mention Kant's priority speak as if Kant
had merely thrown out a hint, while Laplace had
... developed a theory; whereas, in fact, Kant wrote a
treatise on the subject, and Laplace only a few pages."
Kant begins by defending his attempt against the
possible objections of those who might regard it as an
endeavour to dispense with the necessity for a Divine
Author. Such persons, he says, appear to suppose
that nature, left to its own laws, would produce only
disorder, and that the adaptations we admire indicate
the interference of a compelling hand, as if nature
were a rebellious subject that could be reduced to
Order only by compulsion, or else were an indepen-
dent principle, whose properties are uncaused, and
which God strives to reduce into the plan of His pur-
poses. But, answers he, if the general laws of matter
are themselves a result of supreme wisdom, must they
not be fitted to carry out its wise design 2. In fact,
* I do not suppose it likely that Laplace should have seen Kant's
anonymous book, but it must be remembered that Kant mentioned
his theory in several publications, and probably referred to it in his
lectures.
MEMOIR, OF KANT. xix
we have here a powerful weapon in aid of Theism.
When we trace certain beneficial effects to the regular
working of the laws of nature, we see that these effects
are not produced by chance, but that these laws can
work in no other way. But if the nature of things
were independent and necessary, what an astounding
accident, or rather what an impossibility, would it not
be that they should fit together just as a wise and
good choice would have made them fit ! As this ap-
plies to such reasoning in general, so it applies also to
the present undertaking. We shall find that matter
had certain laws imposed on it, by virtue of which it
necessarily produced the finest combinations. That
there is a God is proved even by this, that Nature,
even in chaos, could only proceed with regularity and
order.
He proceeds to work out in detail the problem
of the formation of the planets out of the originally
diffused matter, taking into consideration the eccen-
tricities, inclinations, &c., of the planets, the rings
of Saturn, the satellites, the comets. It is noticeable
that he does not, like Laplace, regard the rings of
Saturn as an illustration of his theory. On account
of their large inclination to the ecliptic (28°), he
thought it necessary to assign to them a different
origin. His hypothesis was, that they were pro-
duced by emanations from the planet itself, and
he showed further (as Laplace afterwards did)
that the ring must have a movement of rotation,
and that in consequence of the different velocities
belonging to different distances from the planet, its
stability required that it should consist of several
distinct rings. This conjecture, or rather deduction,
b 2
|XX MEMOIR OF EANT.
has been verified. He also conjectured, as a result of
his hypothesis regarding the formation of the ring,
that the great velocity of rotation of particles of the
inner ring would be the same as that of the planet's
equator. From this consideration, combined with the
assumption that the ring conforms to Kepler's third
law, he deduced the time of the planet's rotation. He
drew particular attention to this as the first prediction
of the kind. His deduction, however, has not been
verified. Saturn's time of rotation is nearly double
what it ought to be on Kant's theory." Another con-
jecture of his, subsequently verified, was, that there
are planets beyond Saturn. Later, he conjectured also
the existence of a planet between Mars and Jupiter.”
Kant then extends his view to the sidereal system.
He states that the first to suggest to him that the fixed
stars constituted a system was Wright, of Durham.”
Rant develops this conception. If gravitation is a
* Kant assumed too hastily that Kepler’s third law applies to the
particles of the ring, which amounts to supposing that their mutual
disturbances are negligible. Yet, considering the form of the rings,
this is not a violent hypothesis.
* Phys. Geogr., p. 449.
* Wright's work was entitled, An Original Theory; or, a New Hypo-
thesis of the Universe founded on the Laws of Nature. By Thomas Wright,
of Durham. London, 1750. It is singular that the speculations of
this ingenious and original writer have been saved from oblivion in
his own country by Kant, who was indebted for his knowledge of
them to a German periodical. Prof. De Morgan has described Wright's
work at some length in the Philosophical Magazine for April, 1848;
but De Morgan’s attention was drawn to it by Arago’s notice in the
Annuaire for 1842; and Arago, who had not seen the book, only knew
it through Kant's reference. There is an account of Wright in the
Gentleman's Magazine, p. 1793, vol. 63. -
MEMOIR, OF FOANT. xxi
universal property of matter, we cannot suppose the
sun's attractive force limited to our system ; but if it
extends to the nearest fixed star, and if the fixed stars,
like suns, exercise a similar force around them, then
they would, sooner or later, fall together if not pre-
vented (like the planets) by a centrifugal force.
Hence we may conclude that all the stars of the
firmament have their own orbital motion. If we con-
ceive our planetary system multiplied a thousand-fold,
and the several bodies in it to be self-luminous, the
appearance, as seen from the earth, would resemble
that of the Milky Way. The form of the heaven of
the fixed stars then is in great an effect of the same
systematic arrangement as our system in little; our
sun with the other stars are, in short, the planets of
a vaster system, which is, in fact, the Milky Way."
There may be many such systems, and some of these
may appear to us as nebulae, and these being seen
obliquely would present an elliptic form. The Milky
Way seen from a sufficient distance would appear
like one of these elliptic nebulae. But these systems,
again, may be mutually related, and constitute to-
gether a still more immeasurable system. This opens
to us a view into the infinite field of creation, and
gives us a conception of the work of God suitable to
the infinity of the great Creator. If the magnitude
of a planetary system in which the earth is as a grain
of sand fills our understanding with wonder, with
what amazement are we seized when we consider the
Vast multitude of worlds and systems which constitute
* This suggestion of Kant's anticipated Lambert's similar sugges-
tion by six years.
xxii MEMOIR, OF KANT.
the Milky Way; and how is this amazement increased
again when we learn that all these immeasurable star
systems are in their turn only a unit in a number
whose limit we know not, and which is perhaps as
inconceivably great as the former, while it is itself
the unit of a new combination." There is here a
veritable abyss of immensity in which all human
power of conception is lost. The wisdom, the good-
ness, the power, that are revealed are infinite, and in
the same degree fruitful and active; the plan of its
revelation must, therefore, be equally infinite. He
ventures upon the conjecture (giving his reasons) that
nature may in course of time be again reduced to
chaos, and again emerge like a phoenix from its
ashes. When we contemplate nature in these suc-
cessive changes, carrying out the plan by which God
reveals Himself in wonders that fill space and eternity,
the mind is overwhelmed with astonishment; but not
satisfied with this vast yet perishable object, the soul
desires to know more nearly that Being whose intelli-
gence and whose greatness are the source of that light
which spreads as from a centre over all nature. With
what awe must not the soul regard even its own
nature, when it reflects that it shall outlive all these
changes. “O happy,” he exclaims, “when amid the
tumult of the elements and the ruin of nature it is
placed on a height from whence it can, as it were, see
beneath its feet the desolation of all perishable things
* This conception is alluded to in the Critique of Practical Reason,
p. 376. Humboldt erroneously identifies Kant's view of the nebulae
with that of Lambert and Halley: Cosmos (Sabine's transl.), vol. iii.,
p. 223.
MEMOIR, OF EANT. xxiii
of the world. Reason could not even dare to wish for
such happiness, but Revelation teaches us to hope for
it with confidence. When the fetters that have bound
us to the vanity of the creature have fallen off, the
immortal spirit will find itself in the enjoyment of
true happiness in communion with the Infinite Being.
The contemplation of the harmony of universal nature
with the will of God must fill with ever-increasing
satisfaction the rational creature who finds himself
united to this source of all perfection." Viewed from
this centre, nature will show on all sides nothing but
stability and fitness; its changes cannot interfere with
the happiness of a creature who has reached this
height. In sweet foretaste of this condition the soul
can exercise its mouth in those songs of praise with
which all etermity shall ring :-
“When nature fails, and day and night
Divide Thy works no more,
My ever-grateful heart, O Lord,
Thy mercy shall adore.
Through all eternity to Thee
A joyful song I’ll raise;
Por, oh! eternity’s too short
To utter all Thy praise.” ADDISON.
Discussing the question, whether the planets are in-
habited, he states his opinion that it would be absurd
to deny this as to all or even most of them. But in
the wealth of nature, in which worlds and systems are
to the whole creation only sundust, there may well be
* Compare Bishop Butler's second Sermon on the Love of God,
Where he speaks of viewing the scheme of the universe in the mind
that projected it.
* Quoted by Kant from a German translation.
xxiv. MEMOIR OF FOANT.
waste and uninhabited places as there are uninhabited
waste on our own earth. Perhaps, indeed, he adds,
some of the planets are not yet brought into a state
fit for habitation; it may take thousands of years to
bring the matter of a great planet into a steady con-
dition. Jupiter appears to be in this transition state.
One planet may come to its perfection thousands of
years later than another.' We may be sure that most
of the planets are inhabited, and those that are not will
be so in due time. He, imagines that the further the
planets are from the sun the more the inhabitants excel
in liveliness and distinctness of thought. Indulging in
fancy, he asks, Does sin exist in those worlds? and
suggests that perhaps the beings in the inferior planets
may be too low to be responsible; those in the supe-
rior planets too wise and too elevated to fall into sin,
with the exception, perhaps, of Mars. Perhaps, he
adds, some of these bodies may be preparing for our
future habitation: who knows whether the satellites
which revolve round Jupiter are destined one day to
illumine us 2 “No one, however, will base his hopes
of the future on such uncertain fancies. When cor-
ruption has claimed its part in human nature, then
shall the immortal spirit swiftly soar above all that is
finite, and continue its existence in a new relation to
the whole of nature arising from its nearer relation to
the Supreme Being. When we gaze on the starry
heavens with our mind filled with such thoughts as
have here been expressed, while all nature is at rest
and our senses also in repose, the hidden faculties of
* This suggestion also has been lately developed in a popular
manner, as a novelty.
MEMOIR OF KANT. XXV
the immortal soul speak in a language unutterable,
and give us conceptions which can be felt but not
described. If there are on this planet thinking beings
so base as to bind themselves to the service of corrup-
tion, in spite of all that draws them away from it, how
unhappy is this globe to produce such miserable crea-
tures 1 but how happy, on the other hand, that under
conditions worthy of all acceptation a way is opened
to them to attain to a happiness and a dignity in-
finitely beyond all the advantages which the most
favourable arrangements of nature can reach in all
the bodies of the universe !”
The reader who is interested in Kant himself will
readily pardon this long notice of a work to which he
attached some importance. At its first publication it
was dedicated to the king, Frederick the Great, and
the theory developed in it is frequently referred to by
Kant in his subsequent writings," for he never ceased
to take an interest in these subjects. So late as 1785
he wrote an essay on the volcanoes in the moon, with
reference to an observation of Herschel. In this Paper
he suggests a mode of accounting for the great heat of
the sun, and (originally) of the planets. His sugges-
tion is based on the discovery of Crawford, that heat
is developed by condensation. On the hypothesis then
that the sun and planets were formed by the condensa-
tion of matter originally diffused through the whole
* In 1763 he repeated the substance of it in the treatise, Der einzig
ºnógliche Beweisgrund zu einer Demonstration des Daseyns Gottes. He
there mentions that the former work was comparatively little known,
as it had been published anonymously. In 1791 he caused an extract
from it (containing what he thought worth preserving) to be appended
to Sommer's translation of Herschel: “On the Structure of the Heavens.”
XXVI MEMOIR, OF KANT.
space, this heat would be a direct consequence of the
condensation. Still later, in 1794, writing on the in-
fluence of the moon on the weather, he throws out the
suggestion that the moon’s centre of gravity may (for
reasons which he gives) lie beyond its centre of figure:
a consequence of which would be that any air and water
which might be upon its surface would be collected at
the side remote from us.
In another instance, both Kant and Laplace might
have had reason to say, “Pereant qui ante nos nostra
dixerunt.” In 1756 Kant wrote a short Paper on the
theory of the winds, in which, for the first time, as
he believed, he gave the true account of the trade
winds and monsoons. Halley had shown that the
effect of the sun in heating the atmosphere at the
equator would be to cause an indraught towards the
equator from north and south. This indraught, ac-
cording to him, naturally followed the daily course of
the sun, and hence the easting.” Kant showed that
this theory was untenable. In fact, the wind would
tend rather to meet the sun, the region to the west
being the cooler. Nor could a wind from such a cause
extend with nearly equal force all round the earth.
Kant showed further, that owing to the difference in
the velocity of rotation between the parts near the
equator and those near the poles, all winds that move
from the poles towards the equator tend to become
more and more easterly, and those that move from
the equator towards the poles become more and more
* This conjecture also has been confirmed.
* Philos. Trans., vol. xvi. A short time previously one Dr. Lister
propounded the singular theory that the trade winds were caused by
the breath of the marine plant Sargasso.-(Ibid., vol. xiv.)
MEMOIR, OF KANT. xxvii
westerly." Hence, in the northern hemisphere every
north wind tends to become a north-east, and every
south wind a south-west wind. In the southern hemi-
sphere, on the contrary, south winds tend to become
south-east, and north winds north-west. He follows
out in some detail the general principles of this circu-
lation of the atmosphere. We can thus explain, for
instance, the monsoons of the Indian Ocean, &c., which
blow from April to September from the south-west;
for when the sun is north of the equator the wind
blows from the equator towards these parts, and there-
fore takes a south-westerly direction. Again, the cur-
rent from the poles towards the equator is balanced
by a counter current, the heated air in the upper
strata at the equator overflowing as it were towards
the poles. When this descends, or overcomes the
weaker motion of the lower strata, it becomes in the
northern hemisphere a westerly wind, such as prevail
between the 28th and 40th degrees of latitude. Kant
subsequently introduced this theory into his course
of lectures on Physical Geography, which was very
numerously attended. Laplace propounded the same
theory forty years later.
* Kant himself says that, as far as he knew, no previous writer
had stated this principle, and he was well read in such subjects at
that time. It had, however, been stated by Geo. Hadley (not “Sex-
tant” Hadley) in 1735 (Phil. Trans., vol. xxxix., pub. 1738). But
Hadley’s paper attracted no attention; and D'Alembert, in his Reflec-
tions on the Causes of the Winds (1747), which obtained the prize
offered by the Berlin Academy, rejects the heat of the sun as a cause,
and makes all the phenomena depend on the attraction of the Sun and
moon. In the French Encyclopédie (1765, nine years after Kant's
Paper, thirty after Hadley's), this is combined with Halley's theory,
and it is suggested further that the monsoons may be due to the
melting of snow, the exhalations from mountains, &c.
xxviii MEMOIR OF EQANT.
In 1763, Kant published his Essay On the only
possible Demonstrative Proof of the Evisſence of God.
The proof developed in this Essay is founded on the
principle that every possibility of existence presupposes
an actually existing thing on which it depends. This
he characterizes as a more thoroughly & priori argu-
ment than any other that has been proposed, since it
does not assume any actual fact of existence. I need
not explain how he develops step by step the attri-
butes of Unity, Intelligence, &c. At a later period
he himself abandoned this line of argument. How-
ever, the greater part of the Essay is occupied with
remarks on design in the constitution of nature, and
with an exposition of the theory developed in the
above-mentioned treatise on the structure of the hea-
vens. We may, he observes, argue from design, either
as exhibited in a contingent arrangement, for example,
in the body of an animal or in a plant; or we may
argue from the necessary results of the constitution of
matter, the laws of motion, &c. The latter method
has the great advantage of presenting the First Cause
not merely as an architect, but as a creator. From
this point of view he instances first the simplicity and
harmony resulting from the geometrical conditions of
space, e.g. that if we seek all the paths which a falling
body would traverse either to or from the same point
in the same time, they are found to be chords of the
same circle. Again, he takes the manifold and har-
monious benefits resulting by necessary laws from the
mere fact of the existence of an atmosphere. There
may be many reasons for its existence: if we suppose
its primary purpose to be that it should serve for
respiration, we find that its existence leads to other
MEMOIR OF FOANT. xxix
important beneficial results. It makes clouds possible
which intercept excessive heat, prevents too rapid cool-
ing and drying, and keeps the land supplied with the
necessary moisture from the great reservoir of the sea.
By causing twilight it prevents the strain on the eyes
which would be caused by the sudden change from day
to night. Its existence prevents rain from dropping
with too great force, and its pressure makes sucking
possible. If it occurs to anyone to say—Oh, these are
all the necessary results of the nature of matter, &c.,
he answers: Yes; it is just this that shows that they
proceed from a wise Creator. He treats of the laws
of motion from the same point of view, and then takes
occasion to show how the laws of the planetary motions
result from the simplest laws of matter, attraction, and
repulsion.
In conclusion, he remarks that while it is of the
greatest consequence to be convinced of the existence
of God, it is by no means necessary to have a demon-
stration of it, and those who cannot grasp the demon-
strative proof are advised to hold fast by the more
easily apprehended proof from design. Hardly, in-
deed, he observes, would anyone stake his whole
happiness on the correctness of a metaphysical proof,
especially if it were opposed to the convictions of
sense. The argument from design is more striking
and vivid, as well as easy to the common understand-
ing, and more natural than any other. It also gives
an idea of the wisdom and providence, &c., of God,
which comes home and has the greatest effect in pro-
ducing awe and humility; and it is in fine more prac-
tical than any other, even in the view of a philosopher.
It does not, indeed, give a definite abstract idea of
XXX MEMOIR, OF KANT.
Divinity, nor does it claim mathematical certainty;
but so many proofs, each of great force, take posses-
sion of the soul, and the speculation may calmly
follow since conviction has preceded—a conviction
far above the force of any subtile objections.
In the same year in which Kant published his
Theory of the Heavens, he issued his first metaphysical
treatise, Principiorum Primorum Cognitionis Metaphysicae
Nova Dilucidatio, and publicly defended it as an ex-
ercise prior to his obtaining permission to deliver
lectures in the University as a “Privat-docent.” He
forthwith commenced lecturing on mathematics and
physics; to these subjects he afterwards added
lectures on philosophy, natural theology, physical
geography, anthropology, and fortification. He had
already so great a reputation, that at his first lecture
the room (in his own house) was filled literally to
overflowing, the students crowding even on the stairs.
His lectures are thus described by the celebrated
Herder, who attended them in the years 1762–1764:
“I have had the good fortune to know a philosopher
who was my teacher; he had the happy sprightliness
of a youth, and this I believe he retains even in old
age. His open, thoughtful brow was the seat of
unruffled calmness and joy; discourse full of thought
flowed from his lips; jest and wit and humour were
at his command, and his lecture was the most enter-
taining conversation. With the same genius with
which he criticised Leibnitz, Wolf, Crusius, Hume,
and expounded the laws of Newton and Kepler, he
would also take up the writings of Rousseau, or any
recent discovery in nature, give his estimate of them,
and come back again to the knowledge of nature and
MEMOIR OF FOANT. xxxi
to the moral worth of man. Natural history, natural
philosophy, the history of nations and human nature,
mathematics, and experience—these were the sources
from which he enlivened his lecture and his conversa-
tion. Nothing worth knowing was indifferent to him ;
no party, no sect, no desire of fame or profit had the
smallest charm for him compared with the advance-
ment and elucidation of the truth. He encouraged
and urged to independent thought, and was far from
wishing to dominate. This man, whom I name with
the greatest gratitude and reverence, is Immanuel
Kant; his image stands pleasantly before me.” His
lectures attracted many hearers of mature age, and
visitors to Königsberg even prolonged their stay for
the purpose of attending them. At the same time
he continued to act as tutor to young men specially
entrusted to his care, who lived with him.
He had to wait fifteen years in the position of
“Privat-docent * before obtaining a professorship.
He had, indeed, been offered a professorship by the
Government before this, but it was almost the only
chair which he felt he could not worthily fill—the
Chair of Poetry. This involved not only the censor-
ship of new poems, but the composition of poems for
academic celebrations, and Kant declined the office.
In the following year he was appointed sub-librarian
at the modest salary of 62 thalers. This was his first
official appointment (aet. 42). Four years later he
was nominated to the professorship of Logic and
Metaphysics', with an income (from all sources) of
* Not of Mathematics, as is sometimes stated. The Chair of
Mathematics was offered to Kant, but Buck, the professor of Logic
xxxii MEMOIR, OF KANT.
400 thalers. This was ultimately increased to 620.
This was of course exclusive of fees from students.
He inaugurated his professorship by defending his
essay, De mund; sensibilis atque intelligibilis forma et
principiis. In this he distinguishes the sensible ap-
prehension of phenomena from the Concept of the
Understanding, just as in the Critique of Pure Reason.
He shows, precisely as in the latter work, that space
and time are forms of the intuitions of sense.
As professor, he continued to lecture in the same
wide circle of subjects as before. The lectures on
physical geography and anthropology were especially
popular. He was fond of studying nature, but espe-
cially human nature in all its phases, and took great
pleasure in reading books of travel, although he never
travelled. Having an excellent memory and a lively
power of imagination, he could distinctly picture to
himself, even in minute detail, the several objects
described. On one occasion he described Westminster
Bridge, its form, dimensions, &c., with such detail
and distinctness, that an Englishman who was present
thought he was an architect, and had spent some
years in London. At another time he spoke of Italy
as if he had known it from long personal acquaint-
ance. So popular were his lectures, that we find Von
Zedlitz, the Prussian Minister, writing from Berlin to
say that he is reading with pleasure an imperfect
manuscript report of the lectures on Physical Geo-
graphy, and requesting Kant to favour him with a
and Metaphysics, desired it, and Kant himself preferred the latter
chair. Buck, therefore, became professor of Mathematics, and Kant
took his place.
MEMOIR OF KANT. xxxiii
correct copy. These lectures were published in 1802.
The lectures on Anthropology had appeared in 1798.
Both works are written in an extremely interesting
and popular style, and those on Anthropology are
full of entertaining remarks and illustrative anecdotes,
not without humour. Thus speaking of the emotions
that nature employs for the promotion of health,
which are chiefly laughing and weeping, he remarks
that anger also conduces to health, if one can indulge
in a good scolding without fear of opposition; and
in fact many a housewife gets no hearty exercise,
except in scolding her children and servants, and
provided these take it patiently, a pleasant feeling of
fatigue spreads itself through the organism. This sort
of exercise, however, he adds, is not without danger,
as the objects of the scolding may possibly resist.
Even when lecturing on Metaphysics, Kant is said to
have been lucid and interesting. When the difficulty
of his writings was complained of, he used to say that
he wrote for thinkers by profession, and with these
technical expressions had the advantage of brevity.
Besides, said he, it flatters the vanity of the reader to
find perplexities and obscurities here and there, which
he can solve by his own acuteness. But in his lectures
he endeavoured to be clear and intelligible. He
sought, as he expressed it, to teach “not philosophy,
but to philosophize.” In one of his letters he states that
he was unceasingly observant of phenomena and their
laws, even in common life, so that, from first to last,
his hearers should not have to listen to a dry exposi-
tion, but be interested by being led to compare his
remarks with their own observations.
It was his custom to keep his eyes fixed on some
C
xxxiv. MEMOIR, OF KANT.
particular student sitting near him, perhaps in order
to judge from the hearer's countenance whether he
was making himself understood. So Arago, in his
popular lectures, used to select for the same purpose
the most stupid-looking person in the audience, con-
tinuing his explanations until the person “fixed”
showed signs of intelligence. With Kant, however,
the consequences were disastrous if the student hap-
pened to have any peculiarity or defect, either in
person or dress. One day the student thus selected
happened to have lost a button from his coat. Kant's
glance recurred to the vacant spot, and during the
whole lecture his thoughts were distracted, and even
confused, in a manner inexplicable to those who were
not in the secret. -
He did not like to see his hearers taking notes;
but would say, “Put up your pencils, gentlemen,”
and would not begin until they had done so. The
reason of this was that he thought such attempts at
reporting interfered with their attention to the matter
of the lecture, by fixing it on the words. Some of his
hearers took full notes, nevertheless.
In 1772 he formed the design of writing a Critical
Examination of Pure Reason, Theoretical and Prac-
tical, the former part of which he hoped to complete
in three months. The months grew to years. Six
years later he writes that he expects it to appear
“this summer,” and that it would not be a large
volume. It did not see the light, however, until
1781, nine years after he had announced that it
would be ready in three months. When this master-
work was produced, Kant was fifty-seven years of
age. He states himself that it was Hume that roused
MEMOIR OF KANT. XXXV
him from his dogmatic slumber, and compelled him
to seek a solid barrier against scepticism."
It is stated on Kant's own authority that he did
not commit to writing a single sentence in this work,
on which he had not first asked the judgment of his
friend Green. A man to whom Kant showed such
deference deserves a brief notice. He was an English
merchant, and during the American War of Indepen-
dence happened to be present when Kant, who sym-
pathized with the Americans, denounced the conduct
of England in strong terms. Green sprang up in a
rage, declared that Kant's words were a personal
insult to him as an Englishman, and demanded satis-
faction. Kant replied so calmly and persuasively that
Green shook hands with him, and they became fast
friends, and continued so until the death of Green in
1784, a loss which Kant deeply felt.
Of the Critique of Pure Reason I need not here
speak. Suffice it to say, that as Locke's attempt to
keep the mind from “going beyond its tether” was
followed at no long interval by the Idealism of Ber-
keley, and the annihilating Scepticism of Hume, so
Kant's analogous attempt led in a still shorter space
to the most complete idealism and transcendentalism.
Indeed his reviewers not unnaturally mistook him for
an idealist, and Hamann called him the Prussian Hume.
* It may perhaps be interesting to note that both Berkeley and
Hume produced their greatest philosophical works before the age of
thirty. Fichte wrote his “Wissenschaftslehre" at thirty-three. On
the other hand, Locke and Reid, whose object was, like Kant's, to
raise a barrier against scepticism, and to ascertain the extent and
limits of the powers of the mind, both published their first philo-
Sophical treatises after fifty.
G 2
xxxvi MEMOIR, OF FK ANT.
The work excited a lively controversy in the philoso-
phical world, but most of the publications to which it
gave rise have been long forgotten. Kant's fame, how-
ever, rose to the highest, and Königsberg became a
shrine to which students and tourists made pilgrimages.
The Critique of Pure Reason was to be followed
by the Metaphysical Elements of Natural Philosophy
and of Moral Philosophy. The former appeared in
1786, under the title Metaphysische Anfangsgründe der
Naturwissenschaft." The views respecting motion with
which this treatise commences had, however, already
been published as a programme of lectures in 1758.
Motion is only relative to the surrounding space.
While I sit with a ball on the table before me in the
cabin of a ship moored in a river, I say that the ball
is at rest; I look out and see that the ship has been
unmoored, and is drifting westward; the ball then is
moving. But I reflect that the earth is rotating with
greater velocity eastward; the ball then is moving
eastward. Nay; for the earth in its orbit is moving
westward with still higher speed. The orbit itself is
moving, I cannot tell how rapidly, nor do I know in
what direction. In any case then it is the same thing
whether I regard a point as moving in its space, or
regard the space as moving and the point as at rest.
Hence the law of the composition of motions results
directly ; for if A be a point having a motion of one
foot per second westward, and two feet per second
southward, I can regard it as having only the south-
ward motion, while the space in which it is, is moving
one foot per second eastward. At the end, therefore,
* Translated by Mr. Bax, in Bohn's Library, 1883.
MEMOIR, OF KANT. xxxvii
of one second, the point will be found two feet to the
south; and as its space in moving east has left it one
foot behind, it will also be one foot west, relatively to
its surrounding space. This is the same as if it had
moved in the diagonal of the parallelogram. Kant
claimed as an advantage of this proof, that it repre-
sented the resultant motion, not as an effect of the two
motions, but as actually including them. It is in-
comparably simpler and more philosophical than the
proof given by D'Alembert, and other contemporary
mathematicians. When we treat of collision of bodies,
this mode of viewing the matter becomes absolutely
indispensable. If the body A is approaching the
body B (equal to it) with a velocity of two degrees,
we regard A as moving with a speed of one degree,
while B and its space move one degree in the opposite
direction. The motions being equal and opposite, the
result of their contact is mutual rest; but, as the space
is moving, this rest is equivalent to a motion of the two
bodies in contact, relative to the surrounding space,
and in amount one degree. If the bodies are unequal
and have unequal velocities, we have only to divide
the velocities in the inverse proportion of the masses,
and assign to the space the motion which we take from
one to add to the other, and the result will again be
mutual rest, which is equivalent to a motion of the
bodies in contact, with a velocity equal and opposite
to what we have assigned to the space. We can in
this way banish altogether the notion of vis inertiae.
Matter could not exist unless there were both a
repulsive force and an attractive force. If attraction
only existed, matter would be condensed into a point;
xxxviii TMEMOIR OF KANT.
if repulsion only, it would be dispersed infinitely.
The relative incompressibility of matter is nothing
but the repulsive force emanating from points, which
increases as the distance diminishes (perhaps inversely
as the cube), and would therefore require an infinite
pressure to overcome it altogether. Physical contact
is the immediate action and reaction of incompressi-
bility. The action of matter on matter without con-
tact is what is called actio in distans, and the attraction
of gravitation is of this kind. Both attraction and
repulsion being elementary forces, are inexplicable,
but the force of attraction is not a whit more incom-
prehensible than the original repulsive force. In-
compressibility appears more comprehensible, solely
because it is immediately presented to the senses,
whereas attraction is only inferred. It seems at first
sight a contradiction to say that a body can act where
it is not ; but in fact we might rather say, that every-
thing in space acts where it is not ; for to act where it
is, it should occupy the very same space as the thing
acted on. To say that there can be no action without
physical contact is as much as to say that matter can
act only by the force of incompressibility: in other
words, that repulsive forces are either the only forces
of matter or the conditions of all its action, which is
a groundless assertion. The ground of the mistake
is a confusion between mathematical contact and
physical contact. That bodies attract one another
without contact, means that they approach one an-
other according to a certain law, without any force of
repulsion being required as a condition; and this is
just as conceivable as that they should separate from
MEMOIR OF KANT. xxxix
one another without an attractive force being sup-
posed as a condition."
Kant, however, thought it conceivable that in the
case of chemical solution there might be complete
interpenetration or “intussusception.” On this view
of matter we may, he remarks, regard matter as in-
finitely divisible.
The Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic of
Morals had appeared the year before the last-men-
tioned work, and was followed in 1788 by the Critical
Evamination of Practical Reason. Both these are trans-
lated in the present volume. The few remarks I
have to offer on them will be found at the end of
the Memoir. In 1790 was published the Critical
Evamination of the Faculty of Judgment.
The essay on the corruption of human nature,
which forms the third part of this volume, appeared
in 1792 in a Berlin magazine. Four years before
this an edict had been issued, limiting the freedom
of the Press, and appointing special censors, whose
* Before reading this work of Kant's, I had made a remark to the
same effect in Sight and Touch, p. 76, with reference to the state-
ment of Hamilton and others, that Sight is a modification of Touch.
“Contact is usually understood to mean the approach of two bodies,
So that no space intervenes between them ; but in this sense there is
probably no such thing as contact in nature. Physically speaking,
bodies in contact are only at such a distance that there is a sensible
resistance to nearer approach. Sensation by contact then is sensation
by resistance; to say then that sight is a modification of touch, is to
Say that the antecedent of vision is the exercise or feeling of the same
repulsive force, which is a physical hypothesis, and, considered as
such, is in fact absurd. Between ponderable substances and light,
contact, in the sense just specified, is either impossible or is the nor-
mal condition.”
xl MEMOIR OF KANT.
business was to examine as to the orthodoxy, not only
of books, but of professors, lecturers, and theological
candidates. The magazine in question was printed
in Jena ; but in order to avoid any appearance of
underhand dealing, Kant expressly desired that his
essay should be submitted to the Berlin licensing
authority, who gave his imprimatur, on the ground
that only deep thinkers read Kant's works. The
second part of the work on the Theory of Religion
was referred to the theological censor, who refused his
imprimatur. Kant accordingly submitted his essay to
the censorship of the theological faculty of Königs-
berg, and this unanimously sanctioned the publica-
tion, which reached a second edition in the following
year. The Berlin censors were naturally annoyed at
this way of escaping their decision, and the severe
remarks in the preface did not tend to conciliate them.
A few months afterwards Kant received an order
from the King (Frederick William II.), forbidding
him to teach or write anything further in this man-
ner. Kant did not mention the order even to his
intimate friends. A slip of paper, found after his
death, contained this reflection: “To deny one's
inner conviction is mean, but in such a case as this
silence is the duty of a subject; and, although a man
must say only what is true, it is not always a duty to
say all the truth publicly.” He therefore, in his reply
to the King, declared that to avoid all suspicion, he,
“as his Majesty’s most loyal subject,” solemnly en-
gaged to refrain from writing or lecturing on reli-
gion, matural or revealed. The words, “as your
Majesty’s most loyal subject,” were inserted with the
intention of limiting his engagement to the life of
MEMOIR OF KANT. xli
the King, and on the death of Frederick William in
1797, Kant regarded himself as free, and published
his Contest of the Faculties (i. e. of the Academical
Faculties).
In 1797 Kant ceased to lecture publicly. In the
same year he published his Metaphysical Elements of
Morals, which treats of the soveral virtues and vices
in detail," and Metaphysical Elements of Law. After the
publication of these, he seems to have been regarded
as a counsellor to be consulted in all difficulties, and
an authority in all questions of conscience. The pains
he took to give real assistance in such cases, both by
his own reflection, and by inquiring from his col-
leagues, are attested by his written and often cor-
rected memoranda. As an example may be mentioned
the question whether inoculation was morally allow-
able or not. This question was addressed to him at
the same time by a Professor of Medicine in Halle,
and by a young nobleman who was going to be
married, and whose bride wished to be inoculated.
Kant's reply is not known, although some memoranda
for it exist.
After this time he began to feel the burden of age,
and his powers, mental and bodily, gradually failed.
He was quite aware of his condition, and resigned.
“Gentlemen,” said he one day, “I do not fear to die.
I assure you, as in the presence of God, that if on this
very night, suddenly the summons to death were to
reach me, I should bear it with calmness, should raise
my hands to heaven, and say, ‘Blessed be God!’
Were it indeed possible that such a whisper as this
* Translated by Mr. Semple. Edinburgh, 1836. Re-issued 1869.
xlii MEMOIR OF KANT.
could reach my ear—“Fourscore years thou hast lived,
in which time thou hast inflicted much evil upon thy
fellow-men,” the case would be otherwise.” This was
spoken, says Wasianski, in a tone of earnest sincerity.
Two days after his seventy-ninth birthday he wrote in
his memoranda: “According to the Bible our life lasts
seventy years, and if very long, fourscore years, and
though it was pleasant, it has been labour and sorrow.”
Up to this time he was able to read the smallest print
without spectacles, although he had lost the sight of
one eye nearly twenty years before. But soon after
he had written this memorandum his sight also failed,
and he died in February, 1804, in his eightieth year.
His body was so dried up that the physicians said
they had hardly ever seen so wasted a body. Indeed
he had himself said jestingly some years before, that
he thought he had reached the minimum of muscular
substance.”
Kant was of weak frame, and still weaker muscular
power; he was barely five feet in height.” His chest
was flat, almost concave, the right shoulder slightly
crooked, his complexion fresh, his forehead high,
square, and broad, while his piercing blue eyes made
so lively an impression that it was long remembered
by some of his pupils. Even after he had lost the
sight of one eye, the defect was not visible to a
stranger. In consequence of his contracted chest he
suffered from a feeling of oppression, which early in
life caused a tendency to hypochondria, to such an
* Luther's translation.
* An interesting account of “The Last Days of Kant,” taken from
Wasianski, may be found in De Quincey’s works, vol. iii.
* Five German feet would be less than five feet two inches English.
MEMOIR OF FOANT. xliii
extent as even to make him feel weary of life. This,
however, he overcame by force of thought. When
engaged on the Kritik, in 1771, he speaks of his
health being seriously impaired, and some years later
he says that it is unceasingly broken; yet by dint of
careful attention and great regularity he was able,
without modical aid, to maintain such good health on
the whole, that at a later period he used to say to
himself on going to bed, “Is it possible to conceive
any human being enjoying better health than I do ’’’
His maxim for preserving health was, sustine et abstine.
His practice illustrated this. The two indulgences of
which he was fond were tobacco and coffee. But of
the former he limited himself to a single pipe in the
morning, whilst he altogether abstained from the latter
until far advanced in life, thinking it injurious to
health. At the age of seventy he wrote an essay,
On the Power of the Mind to Masſer the Feeling of
Illness by Force of Resolution." The essay was origi-
nally addressed to Hufeland, the celebrated author of
the treatise on the Art of Prolonging Life, and the
principles contained in it are exemplified from Kant's
own experience. He attached great importance to
the habit of breathing through the nostrils instead of
through the mouth, and asserted that he had by this
means overcome a tendency to cough and cold in the
head. There is more truth in this than is perhaps
generally thought.” Kant, however, is said to have
* Afterwards included in the “Streit der Facultåten.” This essay
has had a circulation of over 50,000 in Germany, and a new edition
has lately appeared.
* See an amusing book, by George Catlin, Shut your Mouth.
London, 1869. -
xliv MEMOIR OF KANT.
regarded it as of so much importance that he did not
like to have a companion in his daily walk, lest he
should have to open his mouth. The true reason of
this preference (in later life only) for solitary walks
was, beyond doubt, that which is mentioned in this
essay, that it is undesirable to exercise the limbs and the
brain (or the brain and the stomach) at the same time.
His punctilious attention to health is amusingly
illustrated by the artifice he used for suspending his
stockings. Thinking that garters injuriously impeded
the circulation, he had a couple of bands attached to
each stocking, and passing through a hole in the
pocket of his breeches. Inside the pocket they were
connected with a spring enclosed in a box, and this
spring regulated the tension. That he might not be
without some exercise in his study, he habitually left
his handkerchief at the other side of the room, so that
now and then he should have to get up and walk to it.
On the same principle his hours of sleep, &c., were
adhered to with the utmost regularity. He went to
bed punctually at ten, and rose punctually at five.
His servant had orders not to let him sleep longer on
any account; and on being asked once by Kant, in
presence of guests, testified that for thirty years his
master had never once indulged beyond the appointed
hour. On rising he took a cup (indefinite cups) of
tea, but no solid food. The early hours were devoted
to preparation for his lectures, which in his earlier
years occupied four or five hours, but subsequently
only two. At seven o’clock precisely, or eight, as the
case might be, he entered his lecture-room. Lectures
ended, at nine or ten, he returned to his study, and
applied himself to preparing his books for the press.
MEMOIR OF FOANT. xlv.
He worked thus without interruption until one o'clock,
the hour for dinner. This was his only meal, and he
liked to have pleasant company, and to prolong the meal
(dueere caenam) with lively, sometimes brilliant conver-
sation, for three or four hours. Kant had no Boswell,
and nothing is preserved of these conversations, in
which he is said to have often thrown out profound
and suggestive remarks with extraordinary richness."
Until his sixty-third year, not having a house of his
own, he dined at a public restaurant, which, however,
he occasionally found it necessary to change, in con-
sequence of persons coming for the purpose of discuss-
ing philosophical questions with him. He considered
that meal-time ought to be a time of perfect mental
relaxation, and was not disposed to turn the dinner
table into a lecture pulpit. His afternoons were,
however, often spent at the houses of his friends,
where he enjoyed meeting foreign merchants, sea
captains, and travelled scholars, from whom he might
learn much about foreign nations and countries. His
instructive and entertaining conversation, flavoured
with mild satiric humour, made him a welcome guest,
and even with the children he was a favourite. After
he became famous he declined invitations if he thought
he was to be made a lion of.
* Some of his critical biographers thought he ate too much, for-
getting that this was his only meal in the twenty-four hours. “It
is believed,” says De Quincey, “that his critics ate their way ‘from
morn to dewy eve,” through the following course of meals :—
1st, Breakfast early in the morning; 2nd, Breakfast d la fourchette,
about 10 A.M.; 3rd, Dinner at 1 or 2; 4th, Vesper Brod; 5th, Abend
Brod; all which does seem a very fair allowance for a man who
means to lecture on abstinence at night.”
xlvi MEMOIR OF KANT.
When he had a house of his own, he had every
day a few friends to dine with him. He liked to have
a mixed company—merchants, professional men, and
especially a few younger men. After dinner followed
regularly his daily walk for an hour or more, along
what was from him named “The Philosopher's Walk,”
until he was driven from it by the number of beggars
whom his habit of almsgiving had attracted there."
Even the severest weather did not interfere with this
daily walk, in which in his earlier years he usually
had companions; after sixty years of age he walked
alone, for the reason already mentioned.
He had on One occasion a narrow escape from
assassination. A lunatic, who had made up his mind
to kill some one, waylaid Kant for the purpose, and
followed him for three miles, but on reflection, think-
ing it a pity to kill an old professor who must have so
many sins on his head, the unfortunate madman killed
a child instead.
The evening was devoted to lighter reading and
meditation. He would read over and over again such
books as Don Quixote, Hudibras, Swift's Tale of a
Tub, Juvenal, and Horace. In his later years he was
especially fond of reading books on physical science,
and books of travel. Purely speculative works he
cared little for, but liked to read Locke, Hutcheson,
Pope, Hume, Montaigne, Rousseau.
How unwilling Kant was to depart from his re-
gular routine appears from a characteristic anecdote.
One day as he was returning from his walk, a noble-
! Yet some of his biographers state that he never gave alms to
beggars.
IMEMOIR, OF KANT. - xlvii
man who was driving came up with him, and politely
invited him to take a drive with him as the evening
was fine. Kant yielded to the first impulse of polite-
ness, and consented. The Count, after driving over
some of his property near the city, proposed to visit a
friend some miles from the town, and Kant of course
could not refuse. At last Kant was set down at his
own door near ten o’clock, full of vexation at this
violation of his regular habits. He thereupon made
it a fixed rule never to get into a carriage that he
had not hired himself, so that he could manage it as
he pleased. When once he had made such a resolu-
tion, he was satisfied that he could not be taken by
surprise, and nothing would make him depart from it.
So his life passed, says one of his biographers, like
the most regular of regular verbs.
Punctual, however, as he was, his punctuality did
not come up to the standard of his friend Green.
One evening Kant had promised that he would ac-
company Green in a drive the next morning at eight.
At a quarter before eight Green was walking up and
down his room, watch in hand; at fifty minutes past
seven he put on his coat, at fifty-five he took his stick,
and at the first stroke of eight entered his carriage
and drove off; and although he met Kant, who was a
couple of minutes late, he would not stop for him,
because this was against the agreement and against
his rule. This gentleman, for whom Kant had a great
esteem, served as the model for the description of the
English character in the Anthropologie. Kant's savings
were invested with this Mr. Green, and allowed to
accumulate at 6 per cent. interest.
Kant is said to have been on two occasions on the
xlviii MEMOIR, OF EQANT.
point of marrying, or at least of making a proposal,
but he took so long to calculate his incomings and
outgoings with exactness, in order to see whether he
could afford it, that the lady in the first case was
married, and in the second had left Königsberg before
he had made up his mind. When he was seventy
years of age, an officious friend actually printed a
dialogue on marriage, with a view to persuade the
philosopher to marry. Kant reimbursed him for the
expense of printing, but at that age, not unnaturally,
thought the advice rather too late. How sensible he
was to the charms of female society appears from the
Essay On the Sublime and Beautiful, p. 426 ft, where
he discusses the difference between the sublime and
beautiful in the natural relations of the sexes.
Kant's personal character is described, by those
who knew him best, as truly childlike. He was kind-
hearted and actively benevolent; of rare candour in
estimating the abilities of other men, with high re-
spect for every thing that was noble or deserving;
always disposed to recognise the good rather than the
bad in men's characters. He was always ready with
counsel and assistance for the young. His modesty
towards scholars of great fame almost degenerated
into shyness.
As may be supposed from the regularity of his
habits, he never allowed himself to run into debt.
When a student at the University, with very narrow
means, his only coat had once become so shabby, that
some friends subscribed a sum of money, which was
offered to him in the most delicate manner possible
for the purchase of a new one. Kant, however, pre-
ferred to retain his shabby coat rather than incur debt
MEMOIR, OF RANT. xlix
or lose his independence." In his old age he boasted
that he had never owed any man a penny, so that
when a knock came to his door he was never afraid
to say, “Come in.” When his means had increased
(chiefly through the profits on his writings), he assisted
such of his relatives as were in want in the most liberal
manner. On the death of his brother, he assigned to
the widow a pension of 200 thalers. Many poor per-
sons also received a weekly allowance from him, and
Wasianski, who in later years managed Kant's affairs
for him, states that his charitable expenses amounted
to about 400 thalers annually.
His kindness was shown in his last will, in which
he left an annual sum to a servant who had treated
him shamefully, but who had served him (not indeed
faithfully) for thirty years. Kant had dismissed him
two years before, with a pension, on condition of his
nover setting foot inside the house again. After some
other small legacies, the residue was left to the chil-
dren of his brother and sisters. The whole amount
was under four thousand pounds.
The principal questions on the Theory of Morals
may, with sufficient accuracy for the present purpose,
be said to be these : First, the purely speculative
question, What is the essential nature of moral right-
ness? Secondly, the practical questions, What is to
man the criterion of his duty 2 and what is the founda-
tion of obligation ? The additional question, By what
faculty do we discern right and wrong P is properly a
psychological One.
* The reader will be reminded of the similar story of Dr. Johnson
and the boots.
d
l MEMOIR OF KANT.
If we had only to do with a being in whom Reason
was irresistibly dominant, we should not need to raise
any further questions; but having to treat of a being
with affections and appetites distinct from Reason, and
not of themselves dependent on it, we must answer
the further question : How is Reason to maintain
its authority in spite of these resisting forces? i.e.
What is the Motive 2 Lastly, since we have to deal
with a corrupt creature, a new question arises: How
is such a creature to be reformed P
Now how does Kant deal with these questions?
His categorical imperative—Act as if the maxim of
thy action were to become by thy will a universal law
of Nature—gives perhaps not the essence of virtue, but
a property of it, which may indeed serve as a subjec-
tive criterion. That this criterion is formal only, and
therefore empty, is hardly of itself a valid objection.
The test of valid reasoning, the syllogism, is equally
empty. The categorical imperative is, however,
rather negative than positive, and it is far from
being sufficiently clear as a test of the morality of
actions. This appears even in the examples which
Kant himself gives. For example, treating of Com-
passion, he supposes that if a man refuses aid to the
distressed, it is out of selfishness, and then shows that
if selfishness was the ruling principle, it would contra-
dict itself. But why assume a motive for refusing
help ? What we want is a motive for giving help.
There is nothing contradictory in willing that none
should help others. So in the case of gratitude,
there is no contradiction in willing that those who
receive benefits should entertain no peculiar feeling
toward their benefactor. It is true we should look
MEMOIR OF KANT. li
for it ourselves, but this implies that such a feeling is
natural to man, and that we approve it. Again, put
the case of self-sacrifice of a man giving his life to
save his friend; it would seem as easy on Kant's
principle to prove this a vice as a virtue.
Rant has in fact treated human nature too ab-
stractly. In eliminating the “matter” he has elimi-
nated that on which frequently the whole question
turns. Indeed, in some of the instances he himself
chooses, he elicits a contradiction only by bringing
in a teleological consideration; e. g. as to suicide, he
brings in the end for which self-love was given. The
will to destroy one's own life is not contradictory of
the will to sustain it, unless the circumstances be
supposed the same.
These remarks, however, only show that the for-
mula is not a mechanical rule of conduct; they do
not disprove its scientific value. In fact precisely
similar objections have been alleged against the logi-
cal analysis of speculative reasoning, that it leaves
untouched what in practice is the most difficult part
of the problem. If all poisonous substances could be
brought under a single chemical formula, the gene-
ralization would be of value both theoretically and
practically, although its application to particular
cases might be difficult and uncertain. Kant never
attempted “to deduce a complete code of duty from
a purely formal principle;” he expressly states that
! Sidgwick, Method of Ethics, page 181; 3rd ed., page 207. In
his third edition, Mr. Sidgwick appeals, in defence of his view, to
Kant's statements in pp. 38–42 of the present book. The passage on
p. 299 was, he remarks, written ten years later. But I think it will
be found that in each of his hypothetical cases he does not deduce
d 2
lii MEMOIR OF KANT.
this is only a negative principle, and that the matter
of practical maxims is to be derived from a different
source (cf. the present work, p. 299). Nor is it to be
supposed that Kant was not fully aware of the difficulty
of applying his formula to the complex circumstances
of actual life. In his Metaphysic of Morals he states a
great number of questions of casuistry, which he leaves
undecided, as puzzles or exercises to the reader. And
indeed similar difficulties might be raised, from a
speculative point of view, respecting the rule, “What-
soever ye would that men should do unto you, even
so do unto them.”—a rule of which we may never-
theless say that in practice it probably never misled
anyone, for everyone sees that the essence of it is the
elimination of self-partiality and inward dishonesty.
The scientific basis of it is stated by Clarke in lan-
guage nearly equivalent to Kant's. The reason of
it, says the former, is the same as that which forces
us in speculation to affirm that if one line or number
be equal to another, that other is equal to it. “What-
ever relation or proportion one man in any case bears.
to another, the same that other, when put in like cir-
cumstances, bears to him. Whatever I judge reason-
able or unreasonable for another to do for me, that,
by the same judgment, I declare reasonable or unrea-
sonable that I in the like case should do for him.” "
Kant's rule is a generalization of this, so as to include
duties to ourselves as well as to others. As such it
has a real scientific value. Practically, its value
the maxim from the imperative. What he does is to test the maxim
by the imperative, just as he might test an argument by the rules of
syllogism.
* Discourse on the Attributes, &c. Ed. 1728, p. 200.
MEMOIR OF KANT. liii
consists, like that of the golden rule, in the elimination
of inward dishonesty.
Mr. Mill’s criticism on Kant's formula is, that when
we speak of a maxim being “fit” to be a universal
law, it is obvious that some test of fitness is required,
and that Kant, in fact, tests the maxims by their con-
sequences; as if the whole gist of Kant’s argument
were not that the only test of this fitness is logical
possibility; or as if this were not the one thing ex-
pressed in his formula. As to testing maxims by
Consequences, he does so in the same sense in which
Euclid in indirect demonstrations tests a hypothesis by
its consequences, and in no other, i.e. by the logical
consequences, not the practical. Take the case of a
promise. In Kant's view, the argument against the
law permitting unfaithfulness is not that it would be
attended with consequences injurious to society, but
that it would annihilate all promises (the present
included), and therefore annihilate itself. Of incon-
venience to society not a word is said or implied.
Hence Kant's objection rests wholly on the absolute
universality of the supposed law, whereas the Utili-
tarian objection from practical consequences would be
applicable in a proportionate degree to a law not sup-
posed universal. Hence, also, Kant's test would hold
even if the present promise were never to be followed
by another; nay, it would be of equal force even
though it should be proved that it would be better for
society that there should be no verbal promises.
It has been said that in applying Kant's formula
* Sidgwick, Method of Ethics, page 450 ; 3rd ed., page 482.
Mr. Sidgwick’s argument involves the assumption, that the sum of
liv MEMOIR OF KANT.
we must qualify it by introducing the consideration
of the probability that our example or rule will be
generally followed; and the instance of celibacy has
been suggested, which, it is said, would be necessarily
condemned as a crime if tested by Kant's rule, pure
and simple ; for if all men practised celibacy there
would be an end of the race, and, on the “greatest
happiness” principle, to effect this would be the worst
of crimes. Now, if a qualification were required, or
admissible, Kant's formula would be deprived of all
scientific significance, and its application made depen-
dent on private and uncertain opinion. As to the
example of celibacy, Kant has himself indicated how
he would dispose of it by the way in which he treats
suicide. He does not show its unlawfulness by alleg-
ing that if everyone committed suicide the human
race would come to an end, but by exposing the in-
consistency in the principle of action which would lead
to suicide. In every case it is the mental principle
which is to be tested, not the mere external action.
Bearing this in mind, we shall find no difficulty in
the case of celibacy. It may proceed from motives
which there would be no absurdity in supposing uni-
versal, because the circumstances which give them this
particular direction could only be exceptional. But,
suppose celibacy recommended on grounds which are
in their own nature universal, e.g. as a condition of
moral perfection, then Kant's formula would properly
human happiness is certainly known to exceed that of human misery.
Even on his own statement, a man who doubted or disbelieved this
would be justified in adopting celibacy. Nay, in the latter case, he
might regard it as a duty.
MEMOIR OF KANT. ly
apply, for moral perfection is an end to be aimed at
by all. One might just as well say that Kant's rule
would make all killing criminal, whereas Kant would
obviously require us to take into account the motive,
self-defence, or other. On the other hand, apply Mr.
Sidgwick’s qualification, and what would result 2 Why,
that we might innocently kill, provided the action
were not likely to be generally imitated | If occasional
celibacy is justified only because there exists a natural
passion which is sure to be usually powerful enough
to prevent the example being followed, then we may
equally justify occasional violence or murder on the
ground that fear or benevolence will naturally prevent
the action from being extensively imitated.
Kant's view of the source of obligation in the
Autonomy of the will appears to require qualification
if we would avoid a contradiction. A law must be
above the nature to which it is a law, and which is
subject to it. A being which gave itself the moral law,
and whose freedom, therefore, is Autonomy, would
not be conscious of obligation or duty, since the moral
law would coincide with its will. Kant draws the ap-
parently self-contradictory conclusion that we, though
willing the law, yet resist it. Even if this be granted,
it would follow, not that we should feel obliged, but
that either no action at all would follow, or the more
powerful side would prevail. That we condemn our-
selves when we have violated the law is an important
fact, on which Kant very strongly insists, but which
his theory fails to explain. Is it not a far simpler and
truer explanation to say that this self-condemnation,
this humiliation in the presence of an unbending judge,
is a proof that we have not given ourselves the law;
lvi MEMOIR, OF KANT.
that we are subjects of a higher power P' There is,
indeed, a sense in which Autonomy may be truly win-
dicated to man. The moral law is not a mere precept
imposed upon us from without, nor is it forced upon
us by our sensitive mature; it is a law prescribed to
us, or, more correctly speaking, revealed to us, by our
own Reason. But Reason is not our own in the sense
in which our appetites or sensations are our own ; it is
not under our own control; it bears the stamp of uni-
versality and authority. Thus it declares itself imper-
sonal: in other words, what Reason reveals we regard
as valid for all beings possessed of intelligence, equal
or superior to our own. Hence, many ethical writers,
both ancient and modern, have insisted as strongly as
Kant that the moral law is common to man with all
rational creatures.” And when Kant speaks of Auto-
nomy, this is all that his argument requires. Accord-
ingly, he sometimes speaks of rational creatures as the
subjects of Reason, which is the supreme legislator.
As regards the sanctions of the moral law, which
practically to imperfect creatures furnish the motive,
these consist, according to Kant, in the happiness and
misery which are the natural consequences of virtue
* Kant appears to recognise this in the passage quoted p. 322.
* For instance, Cicero de Legibus argues that there is “communio
juris inter deos et homines.” Dr. Adams (in his celebrated sermon
On the Obligation of Virtue), like Kant, remarks that to found the
obligation of virtue on any good affections, or on a moral sense (as
this is generally understood), is to make its nature wholly precarious,
to suppose that men might have been intelligent beings without such
sentiments, or with the very reverse. So Clarke had insisted that
the eternal relations of things, with their consequent fitnesses, must
appear the same to the understandings of all intelligent beings. In
fact, this is a commonplace of English moralists.
MEMOIR OF KANT. lvii
and vice, and he thinks that when they are regarded
as natural consequences, the dread of the misery will
have more effect than if it were thought to be an
arbitrary punishment. “ The view into an illimitable
future of happiness or misery is sufficient to serve as
a motive to the virtuous to continue steadfast in well-
doing, and to arouse in the vicious the condemning
voice of conscience to check his evil course.” In
this Kant agrees with Cumberland. Kant's argument
for immortality is in substance that it is necessary for
a continued indefinite approximation to the ideal of
the moral law. But since, as he maintains, we have
ourselves to blame for not having attained this ideal,
what right have we to expect such an opportunity ?
Having missed the true moment in his argument,
which led to the existence of a Supreme Lawgiver, he
arrived at this fundamental truth by a roundabout way,
through the conception of the summum bonum. But this
introduces a quite heterogeneous notion, viz., that of
happiness. Happiness belongs to a man as a sensible
creature, and all that he has a right to say is, that if
Practical Reason had happiness to confer, it would
confer it on virtue. How much more direct and con-
vincing is the argument suggested by Butler's brief
words: “Consciousness of a rule or guide of action,
in creatures who are capable of considering it as given
them by their Maker, not only raises immediately a
sense of duty, but also a sense of security in following
it, and of danger in deviating from it. A direction of
the Author of Nature, given to creatures capable of
looking upon it as such, is plainly a command from
* Religion, p. 80.
lviii MEMOIR OF KANT.
him ; and a command from him necessarily includes
in it at least an implicit promise in case of obedience,
or threatening in case of disobedience;” and since
“his method of government is to reward and punish
actions, his having annexed to some actions an in-
separable sense of good desert, and to others of ill,
this surely amounts to declaring upon whom his
punishments shall be inflicted, and his rewards be-
stowed.”
Kant sees no mode of reconciling morality with the
law of Causality, except by his distinction of noumena
and phenomena. When the law of Causality is rightly
understood there is no inconsistency. For the cause
which it demands is an efficient cause, and the idea of
an efficient cause involves the idea of mind." It is in-
volved in the idea of matter, that it cannot originate
(this Kant himself adopts as a first principle in his
Metaphysics of Natural Philosophy); whereas it is the
very idea of mind with will that it does originate.
* This has been recognised by philosophers of all periods who have
not begun with a particular theory as to the origin of the idea and the
principle. Thus, to take only non-metaphysical writers, Sir J. Herschel
says: “It is our own immediate consciousness of effort which we exert.
to put matter in motion, or to oppose and neutralize force, which gives
us this internal conviction of power and causation, so far as it refers
to the material world, and compels us to believe that whenever we see
material objects put in motion . . . it is in consequence of such an
effort, somehow exerted, though not accompanied with our conscious-
ness.” (Astronomy, 10th ed., sec. 439.) Dubois Reymond makes a
similar statement, deriving the principle from “an irresistible ten-
dency to personify.” It is somewhat singular that the philosophers
who most strenuously deny that the principle of causality has any
basis other than our observation of the phenomena of passive matter
yet insist most strongly on extending it to those of active will.
MEMOIR OF KANT. lix
When we seek the cause of motion we are satisfied
when we trace it to a will. True, we may then ask
for the motive; but the nature of motive and that of
efficient cause are heterogeneous.
Kant's view of Freedom, however, does not involve
anything of caprice or indeterminateness. Freedom,
according to him, is not independence on law which
we can consciously follow, but independence on the
physical relation of causality, the not being deter-
mined by physical or sensible causes. On this view
the contradiction, which to Hobbes and others seemed
to exist between the conception of freedom and that
of the divine foreknowledge, would have little weight.
A short consideration suffices to show that there is a fal-
lacy involved in Hobbes' argument. Suppose a being
perfectly wise and good, and at the same time free,
then we should only require perfect knowledge of the
circumstances of a particular case in order to predict
his conduct, and that infallibly. If he were not free
we could not do so. And the more nearly a being
approaches such perfection, the more certainly could
we predict his actions. If his goodness were perfect,
but his knowledge imperfect, and if we knew how far
his knowledge extended, we could still predict. It
would be absurd to say that this would be a con-
tradiction.
It is worthy of notice that Cudworth’s conception
of liberty corresponds closely with that of Kant.
“The true liberty of a man, as it speaks pure per-
fection, is when by the right use of the faculty of
free will, together with the assistance of Divine grace,
he is habitually fixed in moral good;” “but when by
the abuse of that faculty of free will men come to be
lx - MEMOIR OF KANT.
habitually fixed in evil and sinful inclinations, then
are they, as Boëthius well expresses it, propriae libertaff
captivi–made captive and brought into bondage by
their own free will.” It may have been suggested
to both of them by St. Paul, who represents sin as
slavery, righteousness as freedom.
Kant is by no means happy in his treatment of
the corruption of human nature. In order to escape
the difficulty of reconciling responsibility with the in-
mate corruption on which he so strongly dwells, he has
recourse (as in the case of freedom) to the distinction
between man noumenon and man phenomenon. The
innate evil of human nature rests on an inversion of
the natural order, the legislative will being subordi-
nated to the sensibility. But how can this be recon-
ciled with the self-given, and therefore self-willed law
which makes good a duty 2 It is inconceivable that
the pure supersensible essence could invest the sensa-
tional nature (the objects of which have for it no
reality) with a preponderance over itself. A further
contradiction appears to be involved in the relation of
evil to freedom ; for he states that freedom is as in-
separably connected with the law of Practical Reason
as the physical cause with the law of nature, so that
freedom without the law of Practical Reason is a
causality without law, which would be absurd; and
yet, on the other hand, he regards freedom as an
ability from which proceeds contradiction to the
moral law.
A still more insuperable difficulty meets him when
he attempts to answer the question, Is reformation
possible? He replies: Yes; for it is a duty. You
ought, therefore you can. How the return from evil
MEMOIR OF FKANT. lxi.
to good is possible cannot indeed be comprehended,
but the original fall from good to evil is equally
incomprehensible, and yet is a fact. Now, freedom
which belongs to the supersensible sphere (the sphere
of noumena) cannot be determined by anything in the
phenomenal world; consequently, if freedom has, apart
from time, given the man a determination, then no
event in time can produce a change. Nay, it would
be a contradiction to suppose the removal of an act in
the noumenal (supersensible) world by a succeeding
act. Contrary or contradictory attributes cannot be
attributed to the same subject except under the con-
dition of time. If, therefore, the intelligent being is
timeless, we cannot possibly attribute to it two deci-
sions, of which one annuls the other. He is not even
consistent, for he argues that it is not possible to
destroy this radical corruption by human power, but
only to overcome it. Why does he not conclude here,
I ought to destroy it, therefore I can 2 Lastly, even
if this “I can * were granted, it would be only a
theoretical, not a practical possibility. If the man
endowed with the faculties in their true subordina-
tion, with reason supreme, has yet not had strength
or purity of will to remain so, what practical possi-
bility is there that having this subordination perverted
he can restore it 2 There is obviously an external
aid necessary here. Not that anything wholly exter-
nal could effect the change, which can only be
produced by something operating on man’s own
moral nature ; but there must be a moral leverage,
an external fulcrum, a Too ortó. Such aid, such
leverage are provided by the Christian religion. It
has introduced a new motive, perfectly original and
lxii MEMOIR, OF KANT.
unique, the overpowering force of which has been
proved in many crucial instances; and no more com-
plete theoretical proof of the absolute necessity of
some such revelation could be given than is supplied
by the attempts of the profoundest philosopher of
modern times to dispense with it.
Kant's own position with respect to Christianity
is that of a Rationalist. He accepts the whole moral
and spiritual teaching of the New Testament, because
he finds it in accordance with reason, and this being
so, he judges that it is a matter of no practical conse-
quence whether its introduction was supernatural or
not. He did not deny that Divine aid was required
to make reformation possible, but he thought that no
intellectual belief or knowledge of ours could be a
condition of this aid, and, therefore, that all historical
questions were adiaphora. But this is to take for
granted, that if God gives such aid at all, it must be in
a particular way. Butler's argument from analogy is
conclusive against such assumptions. And, indeed, it is
certain that the moral and the positive in Christianity
cannot be thus kept apart. It is to the facts that the
doctrines owe their life and motive power. It is these
that supply the leverage, without which the most per-
fect moral teaching will fall dead on the ears at least
of the masses of mankind.
Besides, as Butler shows, revealed facts may be
the foundation of moral duties to those to whom the
revelation has come.
It is remarkable that, although Kant was fond of
reading English authors, and was influenced in his
moral discussions by English moralists, Butler (who
had written half a century before the publication of
MEMOIR, OF KANT. lxiii
the Kritik) was wholly unknown to him. What is
more remarkable is, that Butler has remained equally
unknown to German writers up to the present day.
Whilst German historians of moral philosophy are
careful to note the merits of even Wollaston and
Ferguson, they pass over Butler's name in silence.
The reason of this silence, doubtless, is to be found
in the title of his work. But although foreign philo-
sophers could not be expected to look for a treatise
on moral philosophy in a book called Fifteen Sermons,
how is it that attention was not called to him by the
notices in Mackintosh (who is largely cited, e. g. by
I. H. Fichte), which showed the high estimation in
which the work was held in England Ž It is certainly
a curious and suggestive fact that writers, professedly
and learnedly treating of English moral philosophers,
should be wholly ignorant of the writer who holds by
far the highest rank among them, whose work is the
classical work, the text-book of the Universities, and
with a wider circulation, probably, than the works of
all the other moralists put together.
The most striking peculiarity of Kant's moral
theory is its connexion with his metaphysical system.
It is in the moral law that he finds the means of estab-
lishing the existence, and to some extent the nature, of
the supersensible reality. He has been charged with
inconsistency in this. What he pulls down in the
Critique of the Speculative Reason, he restores illo-
gically, it is said, in that of the Practical Reason.
The fact appears to be, that readers of the former
work are apt to fall into two mistakes. First, they
suppose that they have before them a complete system
instead of a portion only; and secondly, they mistake
lxiv MEMOIR OF RIANT.
the attitude of suspense with regard to the supersen-
sible reality for a dogmatic negation of all knowledge
thereof. When they come to the Practical works,
they find the impression thus formed respecting
Kant's attitude towards the supersensible contradicted.
But the inconsistency is not between the two parts of
Kant's system, but between his system as a whole and
the impression derived from a partial view of it. That
he limits his affirmation of the supersensible to its
practical aspect is quite in accordance with the spirit
of his philosophy. Nor is this limitation so very
unlike that of the common-sense philosopher, Locke,
who, in speaking of the limits of our faculties, says that
men have reason to be well satisfied, since God hath
given them “whatever is necessary for the conveni-
ences of life, and the information of virtue;” adding,
“How short soever their knowledge may come of an
universal or perfect comprehension of whatsoever is,
it yet secures their great concernments, that they
have light enough to lead them to the knowledge
of their Maker, and the sight of their own duties.”
(Essay, bk. I. ch. i. § 5.)
PR EFACE,
NCIENT GREEK PHILOSOPHY was divided into
three sciences: Physics, Ethics, and Logic. This divi-
sion is perfectly suitable to the nature of the thing, and the
only improvement that can be made in it is to add the principle
On which it is based, so that we may both satisfy ourselves of
its completeness, and also be able to determine correctly the
necessary subdivisions.
All rational knowledge is either material or formal : the
former considers some object, the latter is concerned only with
the form of the understanding and of the reason itself, and with
the universal laws of thought in general without distinction
of its objects. Formal philosophy is called Tuogic. Material
philosophy, however, which has to do with determinate objects
and the laws to which they are subject, is again two-fold; for
these laws are either laws of nature or of freedom. The science
of the former is Physics, that of the latter, Ethics; they are also
called natural philosophy and moral philosophy respectively. -
Logic cannot have any empirical part; that is, a part in
which the universal and necessary laws of thought should rest
on grounds taken from experience; otherwise it would not be
logic, i.e. a canon for the understanding or the reason, valid
for all thought, and capable of demonstration (4). Natural and
R
2 PREFACE TO THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES [4]
moral philosophy, on the contrary, can each have their empi-
rical part, since the former has to determine the laws of nature
as an object of experience; the latter the laws of the human
will, so far as it is affected by nature: the former, however,
being laws according to which everything does happen; the
latter, laws according to which everything ought to happen."
Ethics, however, must also consider the conditions under which
what ought to happen frequently does not.
We may call all philosophy empirical, so far as it is based
on grounds of experience: on the other hand, that which
delivers its doctrines from d priori principles alone we may
call pure philosophy. When the latter is merely formal it is
logic; if it is restricted to definite objects of the understanding
it is metaphysic.
In this way there arises the idea of a two-fold metaphysic—
a metaphysic of nature and a metaphysic of morals. Physics will
thus have an empirical and also a rational part. It is the same
with Ethics; but here the empirical part might have the special
name of practical anthropology, the name morality being appro-
priated to the rational part.
All trades, arts, and handiworks have gained by division of
labour, namely, when, instead of one man doing everything,
each confines himself to a certain kind of work distinct from
others in the treatment it requires, so as to be able to perform
it with greater facility and in the greatest perfection. Where
the different kinds of work are not so distinguished and divided,
where everyone is a jack-of-all-trades, there manufactures remain
still in the greatest barbarism. It might deserve to be considered
* [The word “law'” is here used in two different senses, on which see
Whately's Logic, Appendix, Art. “ Law.”]
[5] OF THE METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 3
whether pure philosophy in all its parts does not require a man
specially devoted to it, and whether it would not be better for
the whole business of Science if those who, to please the tastes
of the public, are wont to blend the rational and empirical ele-
ments together, mixed in all sorts of proportions unknown to
themselves (5), and who call themselves independent thinkers,
giving the name of minute philosophers to those who apply
themselves to the rational part only—if these, I say, were
warned not to carry on two employments together which differ
widely in the treatment they demand, for each of which perhaps
a special talent is required, and the combination of which in one
person only produces bunglers. But I only ask here whether the
nature of science does not require that we should always care-
fully separate the empirical from the rational part, and prefix
to Physics proper (or empirical physics) a metaphysic of nature,
and to practical anthropology a metaphysic of morals, which
must be carefully cleared of everything empirical, so that we
may know how much can be accomplished by pure reason in
both cases, and from what sources it draws this its d priori
teaching, and that whether the latter inquiry is conducted by
all moralists (whose name is legion), or only by some who feel
a calling thereto.
As my concern here is with moral philosophy, I limit the
question suggested to this: Whether it is not of the utmost
necessity to construct a pure moral philosophy, perfectly cleared
of everything which is only empirical, and which belongs to
anthropology P for that such a philosophy must be possible is
evident from the common idea of duty and of the moral laws.
Everyone must admit that if a law is to have moral force, i.e
to be the basis of an obligation, it must carry with it absolute
necessity; that, for example, the precept, ‘Thou shalt not lie,”
B 2
4 PREFACE TO THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES
I-
[6]
is not valid for men alone, as if other rational beings had no
need to observe it ; and so with all the other moral laws properly
so called; that, therefore, the basis of obligation must not be
sought in the nature of man, or in the circumstances in the
world in which he is placed, but d priori simply in the concep-
tions of (6) pure reason; and although any other precept which
is founded on principles of mere experience may be in certain
respects universal, yet in as far as it rests even in the least
degree on an empirical basis, perhaps Only as to a motive, such
a precept, while it may be a practical rule, can never be called
a moral law.
Thus not only are moral laws with their principles essentially
distinguished from every other kind of practical knowledge in
which there is anything empirical, but all moral philosophy
rests wholly on its pure part. When applied to man, it does
not borrow the least thing from the knowledge of man himself
(anthropology), but gives laws d priori to him as a rational
being. No doubt these laws require a judgment sharpened by
experience, in order on the one hand to distinguish in what
cases they are applicable, and on the other to procure for them
access to the will of the man, and effectual influence on conduct ;
since man is acted on by so many inclinations that, though
capable of the idea of a practical pure reason, he is not so easily
able to make it effective in concreto in his life.
A metaphysic of morals is therefore indispensably necessary,
not merely for speculative reasons, in order to investigate the
Sources of the practical principles which are to be found d priori
in our reason, but also because morals themselves are liable to all
sorts of corruption, as long as we are without that clue and
supreme canon by which to estimate them correctly. For in
order that an action should be morally good, it is not enough
[7] OF THE METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 5
that it conform to the moral law, but it must also be done for
the sake of the law, otherwise that conformity is only very con-
tingent and uncertain; since a principle which is not moral,
although it may now and then produce actions conformable to
the law, will also often produce actions which contradict it (7).
Now it is only in a pure philosophy that we can look for the
moral law in its purity and genuineness (and, in a practical
matter, this is of the utmost consequence): we must, therefore,
begin with pure philosophy (metaphysic), and without it there
cannot be any moral philosophy at all. That which mingles
these pure principles with the empirical does not deserve the
name of philosophy (for what distinguishes philosophy from
common rational knowledge is, that it treats in separate
Sciences what the latter only comprehends confusedly); much
less does it deserve that of moral philosophy, since by this
confusion it even spoils the purity of morals themselves, and
Counteracts its own end.
Let it not be thought, however, that what is here demanded
is already extant in the propaedeutic prefixed by the celebrated
Wolf' to his moral philosophy, namely, his so-called general
practical philosophy, and that, therefore, we have not to strike
into an entirely new field. Just because it was to be a general
practical philosophy, it has not taken into consideration a will
of any particular kind—say one which should be determined
solely from d priori principles without any empirical motives,
and which we might call a pure will, but volition in general,
with all the actions and conditions which belong to it in this
"[Johann Christian Von Wolf (1679–1728) was the author of treatises
on philosophy, mathematics, &c., which were for a long time the standard
text-books in the German Universities. His philosophy was founded on
that of Leibnitz.]
6 PREFACE TO THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES [8]
general signification. By this it is distinguished from a meta-
physic of morals, just as general logic, which treats of the acts
and canons of thought in general, is distinguished from tran-
scendental philosophy, which treats of the particular acts and
canons of pure thought, i.e. that whose cognitions are alto-
gether d priori. For the metaphysic of morals has to examine
the idea and the principles of a possible pure will, and not the
acts and conditions of human volition generally, which for the
most part are drawn from psychology (8). It is true that moral
laws and duty are spoken of in the general practical philosophy
(contrary indeed to all fitness). But this is no objection, for in
this respect also the authors of that science remain true to their
idea of it; they do not distinguish the motives which are pre-
scribed as such by reason alone altogether d priori, and which
are properly moral, from the empirical motives which the
understanding raises to general conceptions merely by com-
parison of experiences; but without noticing the difference of
their sources, and looking on them all as homogeneous, they
consider only their greater or less amount. It is in this way they
frame their notion of obligation, which, though anything but
moral, is all that can be asked for in a philosophy which passes.
no judgment at all on the origin of all possible practical
concepts, whether they are d priori, or only d posteriori.
Intending to publish hereafter a metaphysic of morals, I
issue in the first instance these fundamental principles. Indeed
there is properly no other foundation for it than the critical
examination of a pure practical reason ; just as that of metaphy-
sics is the critical examination of the pure speculative reason,
already published. But in the first place the former is not so
absolutely necessary as the latter, because in moral concerns.
human reason can easily be brought to a high degree of cor-
[9] OF THE METAPHYSIC OF MORAILS. 7.
rectness and completeness, even in the commonest understand-
ing, while on the contrary in its theoretic but pure use it is
wholly dialectical; and in the second place if the critique of a
pure practical reason is to be complete, it must be possible at
the same time to show its identity with the speculative reason
in a common principle, for it can ultimately be only one and
the same reason which has to be distinguished merely in its ap-
plication. I could not, however, bring it to such completeness
here, without introducing considerations of a wholly different
kind, which would be perplexing to the reader (9). On this
account I have adopted the title of Fundamental Principles of the
Metaphysic of Morals, instead of that of a Critical Evamination
of the pure practical Reason.
But in the third place, since a metaphysic of morals, in
spite of the discouraging title, is yet capable of being presented
in a popular form, and one adapted to the common understand-
ing, I find it useful to separate from it this preliminary
treatise on its fundamental principles, in order that I may not
hereafter have need to introduce these necessarily subtle discus-
sions into a book of a more simple character.
The present treatise is, however, nothing more than the in-
vestigation and establishment of the Supreme principle of morality,
and this alone constitutes a study complete in itself, and one
which ought to be kept apart from every other moral investiga-
tion. No doubt my conclusions on this weighty question, which
has hitherto been very unsatisfactorily examined, would receive
much light from the application of the same principle to the
whole system, and would be greatly confirmed by the adequacy
which it exhibits throughout; but I must forego this advantage,
which indeed would be after all more gratifying than useful,
since the easy applicability of a principle and its apparent
8 PREFACE TO THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES [10]
adequacy give no very certain proof of its soundness, but
rather inspire a certain partiality, which prevents us from
examining and estimating it strictly in itself, and without
regard to consequences. -
I have adopted in this work the method which I think
most suitable, proceeding analytically from common knowledge
to the determination of its ultimate principle, and again descend-
ing synthetically from the examination of this principle and its
Sources to the common knowledge in which we find it employed.
The division will, therefore, be as follows (10):—
1. First section.—Transition from the common rational
knowledge of morality to the philosophical.
2. Second section.—Transition from popular moral philoso-
phy to the metaphysic of morals.
3. Third section.—Final step from the metaphysic of morals
to the critique of the pure practical reason.
[12] OF THE METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 9
FIRST SECTION.
TRANSITION FROM THE COMMON RATIONAL RNOWLEDGE OF
MORALITY TO THE PEIILOSOPHICAL.
NoTHING can possibly be conceived in the world, or even out of
it, which can be called good without qualification, except a Good
Will. Intelligence, wit, judgment, and the other talents of the
mind, however they may be named, or courage, resolution, per-
severance, as qualities of temperament, are undoubtedly good
and desirable in many respects; but these gifts of nature may
also become extremely bad and mischievous if the will which is
to make use of them, and which, therefore, constitutes what is
called character, is not good. It is the same with the gifts of
fortune. Power, riches, honour, even health, and the general
well-being and contentment with one’s condition which is called
happiness, inspire pride, and often presumption, if there is not a
good will to correct the influence of these on the mind, and with
this also to rectify the whole principle of acting, and adapt it to
its end. The sight of a being who is not adorned with a single
feature of a pure and good will, enjoying unbroken prosperity,
can never give pleasure to an impartial rational spectator (12).
Thus a good will appears to constitute the indispensable condi-
tion even of being worthy of happiness.
There are even some qualities which are of service to this
good will itself, and may facilitate its action, yet which have no
intrinsic unconditional value, but always presuppose a good will,
and this qualifies the esteem that we justly have for them, and
does not permit us to regard them as absolutely good. Mode-
ration in the affections and passions, self-control and calm deli-
beration are not only good in many respects, but even seem to
constitute part of the intrinsic worth of the person; but they
are far from deserving to be called good without qualification,
10 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [13]
although they have been so unconditionally praised by the
ancients. For without the principles of a good will, they may
become extremely bad, and the coolness of a villain not only
makes him far more dangerous, but also directly makes him
more abominable in our eyes than he would have been without
it.
A good will is good not because of what it performs or
effects, Ilot by its aptness for the attainment of some proposed
end, but simply by virtue of the volition, that is, it is good in
itself, and considered by itself is to be esteemed much higher
than all that can be brought about by it in favour of any incli-
nation, nay, even of the sum total of all inclinations. Even if
it should happen that, owing to special disfavour of fortune, or
the niggardly provision of a step-motherly nature, this will
should wholly lack power to accomplish its purpose, if with its
greatest efforts it should yet achieve nothing, and there should
remain only the good will (not, to be sure, a mere wish, but the
summoning of all means in our power), then, like a jewel, it
would still shine by its own light, as a thing which has its
whole value in itself (13). Its usefulness or fruitlessness can
neither add to nor take away anything from this value. It would
be, as it were, only the setting to enable us to handle it the
more conveniently in common commerce, Or to attract to it the
attention of those who are not yet connoisseurs, but not to
recommend it to true connoisseurs, or to determine its value.
There is, however, something so strange in this idea of the
absolute value of the mere will, in which no account is taken
of its utility, that notwithstanding the thorough assent of even
common reason to the idea, yet a suspicion must arise that it
may perhaps really be the product of mere high-flown fancy,
and that we may have misunderstood the purpose of nature in
assigning reason as the governor of our will. Therefore we will
examine this idea from this point of view.
In the physical constitution of an organized being, that is,
a being adapted suitably to the purposes of life, we assume it as
a fundamental principle that no organ for any purpose will be
found but what is also the fittest and best adapted for that
[14] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 11
- * * |
purpose. Now in a being which has reason and a will, if the
proper object of nature were its conservation, its welfare, in a
word, its happiness, then nature would have hit upon a very bad
arrangement in selecting the reason of the creature to carry out
this purpose. For all the actions which the creature has to per-
form with a view to this purpose, and the whole rule of its con-
duct, would be far more surely prescribed to it by instinct, and
that end would have been attained thereby much more certainly
than it ever can be by reason. Should reason have been com-
municated to this favoured creature over and above, it must
only have served it to contemplate the happy constitution of its
nature (14), to admire it, to congratulate itself thereon, and
to feel thankful for it to the beneficent cause, but not that it
should subject its desires to that weak and delusive guidance,
and meddle bunglingly with the purpose of nature. In a word,
nature would have taken care that reason should not break forth
into practical evereise, nor have the presumption, with its weak
insight, to think out for itself the plan of happiness, and of the
means of attaining it. Nature would not only have taken on
herself the choice of the ends, but also of the means, and with
wise foresight would have entrusted both to instinct.
And, in fact, we find that the more a cultivated reason
applies itself with deliberate purpose to the enjoyment of life
and happiness, so much the more does the man fail of true
satisfaction. And from this circumstance there arises in many, if
they are candid enough to confess it, a certain degree of misology,
that is, hatred of reason, especially in the case of those who are
most experienced in the use of it, because after calculating all
the advantages they derive, I do not say from the invention of
all the arts of common luxury, but even from the sciences (which
Seem to them to be after all only a luxury of the understanding),
they find that they have, in fact, only brought more trouble on
their shoulders, rather than gained in happiness; and they end
by envying, rather than despising, the more common stamp of
men who keep closer to the guidance of mere instinct, and do
not allow their reason much influence on their conduct. And
this we must admit, that the judgment of those who would very
12 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [16]
much lower the lofty eulogies of the advantages which reason
gives us in regard to the happiness and satisfaction of life, or
who would even reduce them below zero, is by no means morose
or ungrateful to the goodness with which the world is governed,
but that there lies at the root of these judgments the idea (15)
that our existence has a different and far nobler end, for which,
and not for happiness, reason is properly intended, and which
must, therefore, be regarded as the Supreme condition to which
the private ends of man must, for the most part, be postponed.
For as reason is not competent to guide the will with cer-
tainty in regard to its objects and the satisfaction of all our wants
(which it to some extent even multiplies), this being an end to
which an implanted instinct would have led with much greater
certainty; and since, nevertheless, reason is imparted to us as a
practical faculty, i.e. as one which is to have influence on the
will, therefore, admitting that nature generally in the distribu-
tion of her capacities has adapted the means to the end, its
true destination must be to produce a will, not merely good as
a means to something else, but good in itself, for which reason
was absolutely necessary. This will then, though not indeed
the sole and complete good, must be the Supreme good and the
condition of every other, even of the desire of happiness. Under
these circumstances, there is nothing inconsistent with the wis-
dom of nature in the fact that the cultivation of the reason,
which is requisite for the first and unconditional purpose, does
in many ways interfere, at least in this life, with the attainment
of the second, which is always conditional, namely, happiness.
Nay, it may even reduce it to nothing, without nature thereby
failing of her purpose. For reason redognises the establishment
of a good will as its highest practical destination, and in attain-
ing this purpose is capable only of a satisfaction of its own
proper kind, namely, that from the attainment of an end, which
end again is determined by reason only, notwithstanding that
this may involve many a disappointment to the ends of incli-
nation (16). * &
We have then to develop the notion of a will which deserves
to be highly esteemed for itself, and is good without a view to
[17] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 13.
anything further, a notion which exists already in the sound
natural understanding, requiring rather to be cleared up than
to be taught, and which in estimating the value of our actions
always takes the first place, and constitutes the condition of all
the rest. In order to do this we will take the notion of duty, | t
which includes that of a good will, although implying certain
subjective restrictions and hindrances. These, however, far
from concealing it, or rendering it unrecognisable, rather
bring it out by contrast, and make it shine forth so much
the brighter. z *
J. Omif here all actions which are already recognised as in-
consistent with duty, although they may be useful for this or
that purpose, for with these the question whether they are done
from duty cannot arise at all, since they even conflict with it. I
also set aside those actions which really conform to duty, but to
which men have no direct inclination, performing them because
they are impelled thereto by some other inclination. For in
this case we can readily distinguish whether the action which
agrees with duty is done from duty, or from a selfish view. It
is much harder to make this distinction when the action accords
with duty, and the subject has besides a direct inclination to it.
For example, it is always a matter of duty that a dealer should
not overcharge an inexperienced purchaser, and wherever there
is much commerce the prudent tradesman does not overcharge,
but keeps a fixed price for everyone, so that a child buys of him
as well as any other. Men are thus honestly served; but this is
not enough to make us believe that the tradesman has so acted
from duty and from principles of honesty: his own advantage
required it; it is out of the question in this case to suppose that
he might besides have a direct inclination in favour of the
buyers, so that (17), as it were, from love he should give no ad-
Vantage to one over another. Accordingly the action was done
neither from duty nor from direct inclination, but merely with
a selfish view. *
On the other hand, it is a duty to maintain one’s life; and,
in addition, every one has also a direct inclination to do so. But
on this account the often anxious care which most men take for
14 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [18]
it has no intrinsic worth, and their maxim has no moral import.
They preserve their life as duty requires, no doubt, but not
because duty requires. On the other hand, if adversity and
hopeless sorrow have completely taken away the relish for life;
if the unfortunate one, strong in mind, indignant at his fate
rather than desponding or dejected, wishes for death, and yet
preserves his life without loving it—not from inclination or
fear, but from duty—then his maxim has a moral worth.
To be beneficent when we can is a duty; and besides this,
there are many minds so sympathetically constituted that, with-
out any other motive of vanity or self-interest, they find a
pleasure in spreading joy around them, and can take delight
in the satisfaction of others so far as it is their own work. But
I maintain that in such a case an action of this kind, however
proper, however amiable it may be, has nevertheless no true moral
worth, but is on a level with other inclinations, e. g. the incli-
nation to honour, which, if it is happily directed to that which
is in fact of public utility and accordant with duty, and conse-
quently honourable, deserves praise and encouragement, but not

esteem. For the maxim lacks the moral import, namely, that
such actions be done from duty, not from inclination. Put the
case that the mind of that philanthropist were clouded by Sor-
row of his own (18), extinguishing all sympathy with the lot of
others, and that while he still has the power to benefit others in
distress, he is not touched by their trouble because he is absorbed
with his own; and now suppose that he tears himself out of this
dead insensibility, and performs the action without any inclina-
tion to it, but simply from duty, then first has his action its
genuine moral worth. Further still; if nature has put little
sympathy in the heart of this or that man; if he, supposed to
be an upright man, is by temperament cold and indifferent to
the sufferings of others, perhaps because in respect of his own
he is provided with the special gift of patience and fortitude,
and supposes, or even requires, that others should have the
same—and such a man would certainly not be the meanest pro-
duct of nature—but if nature had not specially framed him for
a philanthropist, would he not still find in himself a source
[19] METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 15
from whence to give himself a far higher worth than that of a
good-natured temperament could be P Unquestionably. It is
just in this that the moral worth of the character is brought out
which is incomparably the highest of all, namely, that he is
beneficent, not from inclination, but from duty.
To secure one’s own happiness is a duty, at least indirectly;
for discontent with one's condition, under a pressure of many
anxieties and amidst unsatisfied wants, might easily become a
great temptation to transgression of duty. But here again, with-
out looking to duty, all men have already the strongest and most
intimate inclination to happiness, because it is just in this idea
that all inclinations are combined in one total. But the precept
of happiness is often of such a sort that it greatly interferes with
some inclinations, and yet a man cannot form any definite and
certain conception of the sum of satisfaction of all of them
which is called happiness (19). It is not then to be wondered
at that a single inclination, definite both as to what it promises
and as to the time within which it can be gratified, is often able
to overcome such a fluctuating idea, and that a gouty patient,
for instance, can choose to enjoy what he likes, and to suffer
what he may, since, according to his calculation, on this occa-
sion at least, he has [only] not sacrificed the enjoyment of the
present moment to a possibly mistaken expectation of a happi-
ness which is supposed to be found in health. But even in this
case, if the general desire for happiness did not influence his
will, and supposing that in his particular case health was not a
necessary element in this calculation, there yet remains in this,
as in all other cases, this law, namely, that he should promote
his happiness not from inclination but from duty, and by this
would his conduct first acquire true moral worth.
It is in this manner, undoubtedly, that we are to understand
those passages of Scripture also in which we are commanded to
love our neighbour, even our enemy. For love, as an affection,
cannot be commanded, but beneficence for duty’s sake may ;
even though we are not impelled to it by any inclination—nay,
are even repelled by a natural and unconquerable aversion. This
is practical love, and not pathological—a love which is seated in
16 FUNDAMENTAI, PRINCIPIES OF THE [20]
the will, and not in the propensions of sense—in principles of
action and not of tender sympathy; and it is this love alone
which can be commanded. . . . . . • '
The second proposition is: That an action done from duty
derives its moral worth, not from the purpose which is to be
attained by it, but from the maxim by which it is determined,
and therefore does not depend on the realization of the object of
the action, but merely on the principle of oolition by which the
action has taken place, without regard to any object of desire (20).
It is clear from what precedes that the purposes which we may
have in view in our actions, or their effects regarded as ends and
springs of the will, cannot give to actions any unconditional or
moral worth. In what, then, can their worth lie, if it is not to
consist in the will and in reference to its expected effect? It
cannot lie anywhere but in the principle of the will without
regard to the ends which can be attained by the action. For
the will stands between its d priori principle, which is formal,
and its d posteriori spring, which is material, as between two
roads, and as it must be determined by something, it follows
that it must be determined by the formal principle of volition
when an action is done from duty, in which case every material
principle has been withdrawn from it. - -
The third proposition, which is a consequence of the two
preceding, I would express thus: Duty is the necessity of acting
from respect for the law. I may have inclination for an object
as the effect of my proposed action, but I cannot have respect
for it, just for this reason, that it is an effect and not an energy
of will. Similarly, I cannot have respect for inclination, whether
my own or another's ; I can at most, if my own, approve it; if
another's, sometimes even love it; i.e. look on it as favourable
to my own interest. It is only what is connected with my will
as a principle, by no means as an effect—what does not subserve
my inclination, but overpowers it, or at least in case of choice
excludes it from its calculation—in other words, simply the law
' [The first proposition was that to have moral worth an action must be
done from duty.]
[22] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 17
of itself, which can be an object of respect, and hence a com-
mand. Now an action done from duty must wholly exclude
the influence of inclination, and with it every object of the will,
so that nothing remains which can determine the will except
objectively the law, and subjectively pure respect (21) for this
practical law, and consequently the maxim' that I should follow
this law even to the thwarting of all my inclinations.
Thus the moral worth of an action does not lie in the effect
expected from it, nor in any principle of action which requires
to borrow its motive from this expected effect. For all these
effects—agreeableness of one's condition, and even the promo-
tion of the happiness of others—could have been also brought
about by other causes, so that for this there would have been no
need of the will of a rational being; whereas it is in this alone
that the supreme and unconditional good can be found. The
pre-eminent good which we call moral can therefore consist in
nothing else than the cônception of law in itself, which certainly is
only possible in a rational being, in so far as this conception, and
not the expected effect, determines the will. This is a good
which is already present in the person who acts accordingly,
and we have not to wait for it to appear first in the result” (22).
Dut what sort of law can that be, the conception of which
must determine the will, even without paying any regard to the
effect expected from it, in order that this will may be called
* A maxim is the subjective principle of volition. The objective prin-
ciple (i.e. that which would also serve subjectively as a practical principle to
all rational beings if reason had full power over the faculty of desire) is the
practical law.
2 It might be here objected to me that I take refuge behind the word
respect in an obscure feeling, instead of giving a distinct solution of the
question by a concept of the reason. But although respect is a feeling, it is
not a feeling received through influence, but is self-wrought by a rational
concept, and, therefore, is specifically distinct from all feelings of the former
kind, which may be referred either to inclination or fear. What I recog-
nise immediately as a law for me, I recognise with respect. This merely
signifies the consciousness that my will is subordinate to a law, without the
intervention of other influences on my sense. The immediate determination
of the will by the law, and the consciousness of this is called respect, so that
C
18 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [23]
good absolutely and without qualification ? As I have deprived
the will of every impulse which could arise to it from obedience
to any law, there remains nothing but the universal conformity
of its actions to law in general, which alone is to serve the will
as a principle, i. e. I am never to act otherwise than so that I
S could also will that my marim should become a universal law. Here
now, it is the simple conformity to law in general, without
assuming any particular law applicable to certain actions, that
serves the will as its principle, and must so serve it, if duty is
not to be a vain delusion and a chimerical notion. The common
reason of men in its practical judgments perfectly coincides with
this, and always has in view the principle here suggested. Tet
the question be, for example: May I when in distress make a
promise with the intention not to keep it? I readily distin-
guish here between the two significations which the question
may have: Whether it is prudent (23), or whether it is right, to
make a false promise. The former may undoubtedly often be
the case. I see clearly indeed that it is not enough to extricate
myself from a present difficulty by means of this subterfuge,
but it must be well considered whether there may not hereafter
spring from this lie much greater inconvenience than that from
which I now free myself, and as, with all my supposed cunning,
the consequences cannot be so easily foreseen but that credit
this is regarded as an effect of the law on the subject, and not as the cause
of it. Respect is properly the (22) conception of a worth which thwarts my
self-love. Accordingly it is something which is considered neither as an
object of inclination nor of fear, although it has something analogous to
both. The object of respect is the law only, and that, the law which weim-
pose on ourselves, and yet recognise as necessary in itself. As a law, we are
subjected to it without consulting self-love; as imposed by us on ourselves,
it is a result of our will. In the former aspect it has an analogy to fear, in
the latter to inclination. Respect for a person is properly only respect for
the law (of honesty, &c.), of which he gives us an example. Since we also
look on the improvement of our talents as a duty, We consider that we see in
a person of talents, as it were, the easample of a law (viz. to become like him
in this by exercise), and this constitutes our respect. All so-called moral
&nterest consists simply in respect for the law.
[24] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS 19
once lost may be much more injurious to me than any mischief
which I seek to avoid at present, it should be considered whether
it would not be more prudent to act herein according to a uni-
versal maxim, and to make it a habit to promise nothing except
with the intention of keeping it. But it is soon clear to me that
such a maxim will still only be based on the fear of conse-
quences. Now it is a wholly different thing to be truthful from
duty, and to be so from apprehension of injurious consequences.
In the first case, the very notion of the action already implies a
law for me; in the second case, I must first look about elsewhere
to see what results may be combined with it which would affect
myself. For to deviate from the principle of duty is beyond all
doubt wicked; but to be unfaithful to my maxim of prudence
may often be very advantageous to me, although to abide by it
is certainly safer. The shortest way, however, and an unerring
one, to discover the answer to this question whether a lying
promise is consistent with duty, is to ask myself, Should I be
content that my maxim (to extricate myself from difficulty by
a false promise) should hold good as a universal law, for myself
as well as for others? and should I be able to say to myself,
“Every one may make a deceitful promise when he finds him-
self in a difficulty from which he cannot otherwise extricate
himself” P (24) Then I presently become aware that while I
can will the lie, I can by no means will that lying should be a
universal law. For with such a law there would be no promises
at all, since it would be in vain to allege my intention in regard
to my future actions to those who would not believe this allega-
tion, or if they over-hastily did so would pay me back in my
own coin. Hence my maxim, as soon as it should be made a
universal law, would necessarily destroy itself.
I do not, therefore, need any far-reaching penetration to
discern what I have to do in order that my will may be mo-
rally good. Inexperienced in the course of the world, incapable
of being prepared for all its contingencies, I only ask myself:
Canst thou also will that thy maxim should be a universal law P
If not, then it must be rejected, and that not because of a dis-
advantage accruing from it to myself or even to others, but
- C 2
20 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE |25]
!
\-
l
because it cannot enter as a principle into a possible universal
legislation, and reason extorts from me immediate respect for
such legislation. I do not indeed as yet discern on what this
respect is based (this the philosopher may inquire), but at least
I understand this, that it is an estimation of the worth which
far outweighs all worth of what is recommended by inclination,
and that the necessity of acting from pure respect for the prac-
tical law is what constitutes duty, to which every other motive
must give place, because it is the condition of a will being good
in itself, and the worth of such a will is above everything.
Thus, then, without quitting the moral knowledge of com-
mon human reason, we have arrived at its principle. And
although, no doubt, common men do not conceive it in such an
abstract and universal form, yet they always have it really
before their eyes, and use it as the standard of their deci-
sion. Here it would be easy to show how, with this compass
in hand (25), men are well able to distinguish, in every case that
occurs, what is good, what bad, conformably to duty Or incon-
sistent with it, if, without in the least teaching them anything
new, we only, like Socrates, direct their attention to the prin-
ciple they themselves employ; and that therefore we do not need
science and philosophy to know what we should do to be honest
and good, yea, even wise and virtuous. Indeed we might well
have conjectured beforehand that the knowledge of what every
man is bound to do, and therefore also to know, would be within
the reach of every man, even the commonest." Here we cannot
forbear admiration when we see how great an advantage the
practical judgment has over the theoretical in the common un-
derstanding of men. In the latter, if common reason ventures
to depart from the laws of experience and from the perceptions
of the senses it falls into mere inconceivabilities and self-con-
tradictions, at least into a chaos of uncertainty, obscurity, and
instability. But in the practical sphere it is just when the
1 [Compare the note to the Preface to the Critique of the Practical Rea-
son, p. 111. A specimen of Kant's proposed application of the Socratic
method may be found in Mr. Semple's translation of the Metaphysic of
JEthics, p. 290.]
[26] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 21
common understanding excludes all sensible springs from prac-
tical laws that its power of judgment begins to show itself to
advantage. It then becomes even subtle, whether it be that it
chicanes with its own conscience or with other claims respecting
what is to be called right, or whether it desires for its own in-
struction to determine honestly the worth of actions; and, in
the latter case, it may even have as good a hope of hitting the
mark as any philosopher whatever can promise himself. Nay,
it is almost more sure of doing so, because the philosopher can-
not have any other principle, while he may easily perplex his
judgment by a multitude of considerations foreign to the
matter, and so turn aside from the right way. Would it not
therefore be wiser in 'moral concerns to acquiesce in the judge
ment of common reason (26), or at most only to call in philosophy
for the purpose of rendering the gystem of morals more complete
and intelligible, and its rules more convenient for use (especially
for disputation), but not so as to draw off the common under-
standing from its happy simplicity, or to bring it by means of
philosophy into a new path of inquiry and instruction ?
Innocence is indeed a glorious thing, only, on the other
hand, it is very sad that it cannot well maintain itself, and is
easily seduced. On this account even wisdom—which other-
wise consists more in conduct than in knowledge;—yet has need
of Science, not in order to learn from it, but to secure for its
precepts admission and permanence. Against all the commands
of duty which reason represents to man as so deserving of re-
pect, he feels in himself a powerful counterpoise in his wants
and inclinations, the entire satisfaction of which he sums up
under the name of happiness. Now reason issues its commands
unyieldingly, without promising anything to the inclinations,
and, as it were, with disregard and contempt for these claims,
which are so impetuous, and at the same time so plausible, and
which will not allow themselves to be suppressed by any com-
mand. Hence there arises a natural dialectic, i.e. a disposition,
to argue against these strict laws of duty and to question their
validity, or at least their purity and strictness; and, if possible,
to make them more accordant with our wishes and inclinations,
22 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [27]
that is to say, to corrupt them at their very source, and entirely
to destroy their worth—a thing which even common practical
reason cannot ultimately call good.
Thus is the common reason of man compelled to go out of its
sphere, and to take a step into the field of a practical philosophy,
not to satisfy any speculative want (which never occurs to it as
long as it is content to be mere sound reason), but even on prac-
tical grounds (27), in order to attain in it information and clear
instruction respecting the source of its principle, and the correct
determination of it in opposition to the maxims which are based
On Wants and inclinations, so that it may escape from the per-
plexity of Opposite claims, and not run the risk of losing all
genuine moral principles through the equivocation into which
it easily falls. Thus, when practical reason cultivates itself,
there insensibly arises in it a dialectic which forces it to seek
aid in philosophy, just as happens to it in its theoretic use; and
in this case, therefore, as well as in the other, it will find rest
nowhere but in a thorough critical examination of our reason.
[28] MLETAPEHYSIC OF MORAILS. 23
SECOND SECTION.
TRANSITION FROM POPULAR MORAL PHILOSOPHY TO THE
MIXTAPEHYSIC OF MORALS,
IF we have hitherto drawn our notion of duty from the com-
mon use of our practical reason, it is by no means to be inferred
that we have treated it as an empirical notion. On the con-
trary, if we attend to the experience of men's conduct, we
meet frequent and, as we ourselves allow, just complaints that
one cannot find a single certain example of the disposition to
act from pure duty. Although many things are done in conſor-
mity with what duty prescribes, it is nevertheless always doubtful
whether they are done strictly from duty, so as to have a moral
worth. Hence there have, at all times, been philosophers who
have altogether denied that this disposition actually exists at all
in human actions, and have ascribed everything to a more or
less refined self-love. Not that they have on that account
questioned the soundness of the conception of morality; on the
contrary, they spoke with sincere regret of the frailty and cor-
ruption of human nature, which though noble enough to táke
as its rule an idea so worthy of respect, is yet too weak to fol-
low it, and employs reason, which ought to give it the law (29)
only for the purpose of providing for the interest of the inclina-
tions, whether singly or at the best in the greatest possible
harmony with one another.
In fact, it is absolutely impossible to make out by expe-
rience with complete certainty a single case in which the
maxim of an action, however right in itself, rested simply on
moral grounds and on the conception of duty. Sometimes it
happens that with the sharpest self-examination we can find
nothing beside the moral principle of duty which could have
‘been powerful enough to move us to this or that action and to
24 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [80]
So great a sacrifice; yet we cannot from this infer with certainty
that it was not really some secret impulse of self-love, under the
false appearance of duty, that was the actual determining cause
of the will. We like then to flatter ourselves by falsely taking
credit for a more noble motive; whereas in fact we can never,
even by the strictest examination, get completely behind the secret
springs of action ; since when the question is of moral worth,
it is not with the actions which we see that we are concerned,
but with those inward principles of them which we do not see.
Moreover, we cannot better serve the wishes of those who
ridicule all morality as a mere chimera of human imagination
overstepping itself from vanity, than by conceding to them that
notions of duty must be drawn only from experience (as from
indolence, people are ready to think is also the case with all
other notions); for this is to prepare for them a certain triumph.
I am willing to admit out of love of humanity that even most
of our actions are correct, but if we look closer at them we every-
where come upon the dear self which is always prominent, and
it is this they have in view, and not the strict command of duty
which would often require self-denial (30). Without being an
enemy of virtue, a cool observer, one that does not mistake the
wish for good, however lively, for its reality, may sometimes
doubt whether true virtue is actually found anywhere in the
world, and this especially as years increase and the judgment is
partly made wiser by experience, and partly also more acute in
observation. This being so, nothing can secure us from falling
away altogether from our ideas of duty, or maintain in the soul a
well-grounded respect for its law, but the clear conviction that
although there should never have been actions which really
sprang from such pure sources, yet whether this or that takes
place is not at all the question; but that reason of itself, inde-
pendent on all experience, ordains what ought to take place,
that accordingly actions of which perhaps the world has hitherto
never given an example, the feasibility even of which might be
very much doubted by one who founds everything on expe-
rience, are nevertheless inflexibly commanded by reason; that,
ew. gr. even though there might never yet have been a sincere
[31] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 25
friend, yet not a whit the less is pure sincerity in friendship
required of every man, because, prior to all experience, this
duty is involved as duty in the idea of a reason determining
the will by d priori principles. - -
When we add further that, unless we deny that the notion
of morality has any truth or reference to any possible object, we
must admit that its law must be valid, not merely for men, but
for all rational creatures generally, not merely under certain con-
tingent conditions or with exceptions, but with absolute necessity,
then it is clear that no experience could enable us to infer even
the possibility of such apodictic laws (31). For with what right
could we bring into unbounded respect as a universal precept
for every rational nature that which perhaps holds only under
the contingent conditions of humanity ? Or how could laws of
the determination of our will be regarded as laws of the deter-
mination of the will of rational beings generally, and for us
only as such, if they were merely empirical, and did not take
their origin wholly d priori from pure but practical reason P
Nor could anything be more fatal to morality than that
we should wish to derive it from examples. For every example of
it that is set before me must be first itself tested by principles
of morality, whether it is worthy to serve as an Original example,
8. e. as a pattern, but by no means can it authoritatively furnish
the conception of morality. Even the Holy One of the Gospels
must first be compared with our ideal of moral perfection before
we can recognise Him as such ; and so He says of Himself,
“Why call ye Me (whom you see) good; none is good (the
model of good) but God only (whom ye do not see) P” But
whence have we the conception of God as the supreme good P
Simply from the idea of moral perfection, which reason frames
d priori, and connects inseparably with the notion of a free-will.
Imitation finds no place at all in morality, and examples serve
only for encouragement, i.e. they put beyond doubt the feasi-
bility of what the law commands, they make visible that which
the practical rule expresses more generally, but they can never
authorize us to set aside the true original which lies in reason,
and to guide ourselves by examples.
26 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [33]
If then there is no genuine supreme principle of morality
but what must rest simply on pure reason, independent on all
experience, Ithink it is not necessary even to put the question,
whether it is good (32) to exhibit these concepts in their gene-
rality (in abstracto) as they are established d priori along with
the principles belonging to them, if our knowledge is to be
distinguished from the vulgar, and to be called philosophical.
In our times indeed this might perhaps be necessary; for if we
collected votes, whether pure º separated from
everything empirical, that is to say, metaphysic of morals, or
whether popular practical philosophy is to be preferred, it is
easy to guess which side would preponderate.
This descending to popular notions is certainly very com-
mendable, if the ascent to the principles of pure reason has first
taken place and been satisfactorily accomplished. This implies
that we first found Ethics on Metaphysics, and then, when it is
firmly established, procure a hearing for it by giving it a popular
character. But it is quite absurd to try to be popular in the
first inquiry, on which the soundness of the principles depends.
It is not only that this proceeding can never lay claim to the
very rare merit of a true philosophical popularity, since there is
no art in being intelligible if one renounces all thoroughness of
insight; but also it produces a disgusting medley of compiled
observations and half-reasoned principles. Shallow pates enjoy
this because it can be used for every-day chat, but the sagacious
find in it only confusion, and being unsatisfied and unable to
help themselves, they turn away their eyes, while philosophers,
who see quite well through this delusion, are little listened to
when they call men off for a time from this pretended popu-
larity, in order that they might be rightfully popular after they
have attained a definite insight.
We need only look at the attempts of moralists in that
favourite fashion, and we shall find at one time the special
constitution of human nature (38) (including, however, the idea
of a rational nature generally), at one time perfection, at
another happiness, here moral Sense, there fear of God, a little
of this, and a little of that, in marvellous mixture without its

i84] METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 27
occurring to them to ask whether the principles of morality are
to be sought in the knowledge of human nature at all (which we
can have only from experience); and, if this is not so, if these
principles are to be found altogether d priori free from every-
thing empirical, in pure rational concepts only, and nowhere
else, not even in the smallest degree; then rather to adopt the
method of making this a separate inquiry, as pure practical
philosophy, or (if one may use a name so decried) as metaphysic
of morals," to bring it by itself to completeness, and to require
the public, which wishes for popular treatment, to await the
issue of this undertaking. -
Such a metaphysie of morals, completely isolated, not mixed
with any anthropology, theology, physics, or hyperphysics, and
still less with occult qualities (which we might call hypophysical),
is not only an indispensable substratum of all sound theoretical
knowledge of duties, but is at the same time a desideratum of
the highest importance to the actual fulfilment of their precepts.
For the pure conception of duty, unmixed with any foreign
addition of empirical attractions (34), and, in a word, the con-
ception of the moral law, exercises on the human heart, by way
of reason alone (which first becomes aware with this that it can
of itself be practical), an influence so much more powerful than
all other springs” which may be derived from the field of expe-
rience, that in the consciousness of its worth, it despises the
latter, and can by degrees become their master; whereas a
mixed ethics, compounded partly of motives drawn from feelings
and inclinations, and partly also of conceptions of reason, must
* Just as pure mathematics are distinguished from applied, pure logic
from applied, so if we choose we may also distinguish pure philosophy of
morals (metaphysic) from applied (viz. applied to human nature). By this
designation we are also at oncereminded that moral principles are not based
On properties of human nature, but must subsist d priori of themselves,
While from such principles practical rules must be capable of being deduced
for every rational nature, and accordingly for that of man.
*I have a letter from the late excellent Sulzer, in which he asks me what
can be the reason that moral instruction, although containing much that is
convincing for the reason, yet accomplishes so little P My answer was post-
poned in order that I might make it complete. But it is simply this, that
28 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE | 35||
make the mind waver between motives which cannot be brought
under any principle, which lead to good only by mere accident,
and very often also to evil.
From what has been said, it is clear that all moral concep-
tions have their seat and origin completely d priori in the reason,
and that, moreover, in the commonest reason just as truly as in
that which is in the highest degree speculative; that they can-
not be obtained by abstraction from any empirical, and therefore
merely contingent knowledge; that it is just this purity of their
origin that makes them worthy to serve as our supreme practi-
cal principle (35), and that just in proportion as we add anything
empirical, we detract from their genuine influence, and from the
absolute value of actions; that it is not only of the greatest
necessity, in a purely speculative point of view, but is also of
the greatest practical importance to derive these notions and
laws from pure reason, to present them pure and unmixed, and
even to determine the compass of this practical or pure rational
knowledge, i.e. to determine the whole faculty of pure practical
reason; and, in doing so, we must not make its principles de-
pendent on the particular nature of human reason, though in
speculative philosophy this may be permitted, or may even at
times be necessary; but since moral laws ought to hold good for
every rational creature, we must derive them from the general
concept of a rational being. In this way, although for its
application to man morality has need of anthropology, yet, in
the first instance, we must treat it independently as pure philo-
the teachers themselves have not got their own notions clear, and when they
endeavour to make up for this by raking up motives of moral goodness from
every quarter, trying to make their physic right strong, they spoil it. For
the commonest understanding shows that if we imagine, on the One hand, an
act of honesty done with steadfast mind, apart from every view to advantage
of any kind in this world or another, and even under the greatest temptations
of necessity or allurement, and, on the other hand, a similar act which was
affected, in however low a degree, by a foreign motive, the former leaves far
behind and eclipses the second; it elevates the soul, and inspires the wish to be
able to act in like manner oneself. Even moderately young children feel this
impression, and one should never represent duties to them in any other light.
[36] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 29
sophy, i.e. as metaphysic, complete in itself (a thing which in
such distinct branches of science is easily done); knowing well
that unless we are in possession of this, it would not only be vain
to determine the moral element of duty in right actions for
purposes of speculative criticism, but it would be impossible to
base morals on their genuine principles, even for common prac-
tical purposes, especially of moral instruction, so as to produce
pure moral dispositions, and to engraft them on men's minds to
the promotion of the greatest possible good in the world.
But in order that in this study we may not merely advance by
the natural steps from the common moral judgment (in this case
very worthy of respect) to the philosophical, as has been already
done, but also from a popular philosophy, which goes no further
than it can reach by groping with the help of examples, to meta-
physic (which does not allow itself to be checked by anything
empirical (36), and as it must measure the whole extent of this
kind of rational knowledge, goes as far as ideal conceptions,
where even examples fail us), we must follow and clearly
describe the practical faculty of reason, from the general rules
of its determination to the point where the notion of duty
springs from it. *
Everything in nature works accor’’ng to laws. Rational
beings alone have the faculty coung according to the concep-
ition of laws, that is according to principles, i.e. have a will.
Singe the deduction of actions from principles requires reason,
the will is nothing but practical reason. If reason infallibly
determines the will, then the actions of such a being which are
recognised as objectively necessary are subjectively necessary
also, i.e. the will is a faculty to choose that only which reason
independent on inclination recognises as praeth;ally necessary,
i.e. as good. But if reason of itself does not sufficiently deter-
mine the will, if the latter is subject also to subjective conditions
(particular impulses) which do not always coincide with the ob-
jective conditions; in a word, if the will does not in itself com-
pletely accord with reason (which is actually the case with men),
then the actions which objectively are recognised as necessary
are subjectively contingent, and the determination of such a will
-- ** -a-...-- •rºr *
- rºw - - -- **
30 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [37]
according to objective laws is obligation, that is to say, the rela-
tion of the objective laws to a will that is not thoroughly good
is conceived as the determination of the will of a rational being
by principles of reason, but which the will from its nature does.
not of necessity follow.
The conception of an objective principle, in so far as it is
obligatory for a will, is called a command (of reason), and the
formula of the command is called an Imperative.
All imperatives are expressed by the word ought [or shall],
and thereby indicate the relation of an objective law (37) of
reason to a will, which from its subjective constitution, is,
not necessarily determined by it (an obligation). They & &
that something would be good to do or to forbear, but they say
it to a will which does not always do a thing because it is con-
ceived to be good to do it. That is practically good, however,
which determines the will by means of the conceptions of
reason, and consequently not from subjective causes, but ob-
jectively, that is on principles which are valid for every rational
being as such. It is distinguished from the pleasant, as that
which influences the will only by means of sensation from
merely subjective causes, valid only for the sense of this or
that one, and not as a principle of reason, which holds for every
One." -
1 The dependence of the desires on sensations is called inclination, and
this accordingly always indicates a want. The dependence of a contingently
determinable will on principles of reason is called an interest. This there-
fore is found only in the case of a dependent will, which does not always
of itself conform to reason; in the Divine will we cannot conceive any
interest. But the human will can also take an interest in a thing without
therefore acting from interest. The former signifies the practical interest in
the action, the latter the pathological in the object of the action. The former
indicates only dependence of the will on principles of reason in themselves;
the second, dependence on principles of reason for the sake of inclination,
reason supplying only the practical rules how the requirement of the incli-
nation may be satisfied. In the first case the action interests me; in the
second the object of the action (because it is pleasant to me). We have seen
in the first section that in an action done from duty we must look not to
the interest in the object, but only to that in the action itself, and in its
rational principle (viz. the law).
[39] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 31
l
A perfectly good will would therefore be equally subject to
objective laws (viz. laws of good), but could not be Congeived as
obliged thereby to act lawfully, because of itself from its sub-
jective constitution it can only be determined by the conception
of good (38). Therefore no imperatives fold for the Divine
WITI, or in general for a holy will ; ought is here out of place,
because the volition is already of itself necessarily in unison
with the law. Therefore imperatives are only formulae to
express the relation of objective laws of all volition to the sub-
jective imperfection of the will of this or that rational being,
e.g. the human will.
Now all imperatives command either hypothetically or cate-
gorically. The former represent the practical necessity of a
possible action as means to something else that is willed (or at
least which one might possibly will). The categorical impera-
tive would be that which represented an action as necessary of V
itself without reference to another end, i.e. as objectively
necessary.
Since every practical law represents a possible action as
good, and on this account, for a subject who is practically
determinable by reason, necessary, all imperatives are formulae
determining an action which is necessary according to the prin-
ciple of a will good in some respects. If now the action is
good only as a means to something else, then the imperative is
hypothetical ; if it is conceived as good in itself and consequently
as being necessarily the principle of a will which of itself con-
forms to reason, then it is categorical. -
Thus the imperative declares what action possible by me
would be good, and presents the practical rule in relation to a
will which does not forthwith perform an action simply be-
cause it is good, whether because the subject does not always
know that it is good, or because, even if it know this, yet its
maxims might be opposed to the objective principles of practical
I'ê8,SOIl. . . .
Accordingly the hypothetical imperative only says that the
action is good for some purpose, possible or actual (39). In the
first case it is a Problematical, in the second an Assertorial
32 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [40]
practical principle. The categorical imperative which declares
an action to be objectively necessary in itself without reference
to any purpose, i.e. without any other end, is valid as an
Apodictic (practical) principle.
2. Whatever is possible only by the power of some rational
being may also be conceived as a possible purpose of some will;
and therefore the principles of action as regards the means
necessary to attain some possible purpose are in fact infinitely
numerous. All sciences have a practical part, consisting of
problems expressing that some end is possible for us, and of
imperatives directing how it may be attained. These may,
therefore, be called in general,imperatives of Skill. Here there
is no question whether the end is rational and good, but only
what one must do in order to attain it. The precepts for the
physician to make his patient thoroughly healthy, and for a
poisoner to ensure certain death, are of equal value in this
respect, that each serves to effect its purpose perfectly. Since
in early youth it cannot be known what ends are likely to occur
to us in the course of life, parents seek to have their children
taught a great many things, and provide for their skill in the use
of means for all sorts of arbitrary ends, of none of which can
they determine whether it may not perhaps hereafter be an
object to their pupil, but which it is at all events possible that
he might aim at ; and this anxiety is so great that they
commonly neglect to form and correct their judgment on the
value of the things which may be chosen as ends (40).
There is one end, however, which may be assu ed to be
actually such to all rational beings (so far as imperafives apply
to them, viz. as dependent beings), and therefore, one purpose
which they not merely may have, but which we may with
certainty assume that they all actually have by a natural neces-
sity, and this is happiness. The hypothetical imperative which
expresses the practical necessity of an action as means to the
advancement of happiness is Assertorial. We are not to present
it as necessary for an uncertain and merely possible purpose,
but for a purpose which we may presuppose with certainty and
6 priori in every man, because it belongs to his being. Now
[41] IMETAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 33
skill in the choice of means to his own greatest well-being may
be called prudence, in the narrowest sense. And thus the im-
perative which refers to the choice of means to one's own
happiness, i.e. the precept of prudence, is still always hypothe-
tical; the action is not commanded absolutely, but only as means
to another purpose.
TFinally, there is an imperative which commands a certain
conduct immediately, without having as its condition any other
purpose to be attained by it. This imperative is Categorical.
It concerns not the matter of the action, or its intended result,
but its form and the principle of which it is itself a result (41);
and what is essentially good in it consists in the mental dispo-
sition, let the consequence be what it may. This imperative
may be called that of Morality.
There is a marked distinction also between the volitions on
these three sorts of principles in the dissimilarity of the obliga-
tion of the will. In order to mark this difference more clearly,
I think they would be most suitably named in their order if we
said they are either rules of skill, or counsels of prudence, or
commands (laws) of morality. For it is law only that involves
the conception of an unconditional and objective necessity, which
is consequently universally valid; and commands are laws
which must be obeyed, that is, must be followed, even in oppo-
sition to inclination. Counsels, indeed, involve necessity, but
one which can only hold under a contingent subjective condi-
tion, viz. they depend on whether this or that man reckons this
or that as part of his happiness; the categorical imperative, on
º
gº
* The word prudence is taken in two senses: in é one it may bear the
name of knowledge of the world, in the other that of private prudence.
The former is a man's ability to influence others so as to use them for his
own purposes. The latter is the sagacity to combine all these purposes for
his own lasting benefit. This latter is propºly that to which the value
even of the former is reduced, and when a man is prudent in the former
sense, but not in the latter, we might better say of him that he is clever and
cunning, but, on the whole, imprudent. [Compare on the difference
between klug and gesched here alluded to, Anthropologie, $45, ed. Schubert,
p. 110.]
wº-
I)
34 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [42]
the contrary, is not limited by any condition, and as being
absolutely, although practically, necessary, may be quite pro-
perly called a command. We might also call the first kind of
imperatives technical (belonging to art), the second pragmatic"
(to welfare), the third moral (belonging to free conduct gene-
rally, that is, to morals).
7 Now arises the question, how are all these imperatives pos-
sible P This question does not seek to know how we can
conceive the accomplishment of the action which the imperative
ordains, but merely how we can conceive the obligation of the
will (42) which the imperative expresses. No special explana-
tion is needed to show how an imperative of skill is possible.
Whoever wills the end, wills also (so far as reason decides his
conduct) the means in his power which are indispensably
necessary thereto. This proposition is, as regards the volition,
analytical; for, in willing an object as my effect, there is
already thought the causality of myself as an acting cause, that
is to say, the use of the means; and the imperative educes from
the conception of volition of an end the conception of actions
necessary to this end. Synthetical propositions must no doubt
be employed in defining the means to a proposed end; but they
do not concern the principle, the act of the will, but the object
and its realization. Ev. gr., that in order to bisect a line on
an unerring principle I must draw from its extremities two
intersecting arcs; this no doubt is taught by mathematics only
in synthetical propositions; but if I know that it is only by this
process that the intended operation can be performed, then to
say that if I fully will the operation, I also will the action
required for it, is an analytical proposition; for it is one and
the same thing to conceive something as an effect which I can
* It seems to me that the proper signification of the word pragmatic
may be most accurately defined in this way. For sanctions [see Cr. of
Pract. Reas., p. 271] are called pragmatic which flow properly not from
the law of the states as necessary enactments, but from precaution for the
general welfare. A history is composed pragmatically when it teaches
prudence, i. e. instructs the world how it can provide for its interests
better, or at least as well, as the men of former time.
| 48] METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 35
produce in a certain way, and to conceive myself as acting in
this way.
If it were only equally easy to give a definite conception of
happiness, the imperatives of prudence would correspond exactly
with those of skill, and would likewise be analytical. For in
this case as in that, it could be said, whoever wills the end,
wills also (according to the dictate of reason necessarily) the
indispensable means thereto which are in his power. But,
unfortunately, the notion of happiness is so indefinite that
although every man wishes to attain it, yet he never can say
definitely and consistently what it is that he really wishes and
wills (43). The reason of this is that all the elements which
belong to the notion of happiness are altogether empirical, i.e.
they must be borrowed from experience, and nevertheless the
idea of happiness requires an absolute, whole, a maximum of
welfare in my present and all future circumstances. Now it is
impossible that the most clear-sighted, and at the same time
most powerful being (supposed finite) should frame to himself a
definite conception of what he really wills in this. Does he
will riches, how much anxiety, envy, and snares might he not
thereby draw upon his shöulders? Does he will knowledge
and discernment, perhaps it might prove to be only an eye so
much the sharper to show him so much the more fearfully the
evils that are now concealed from him, and that cannot be
avoided, or to impose more wants on his desires, which already
give him concern enough. Would he have long life, who
guarantees to him that it would not be a long misery P would
he at least have health P how often has uneasiness of the body
restrained from excesses into which perfect health would have
allowed one to fall? and so on. In short he is unable, on any
principle, to determine with certainty what would make him
truly happy; because to do so he would need to be omniscient.
We cannot therefore act on any definite principles to secure
happiness, but only on empirical counsels, ev. gr. of regimen,
frugality, courtesy, reserve, &c., which experience teaches do,
on the average, most promote well-being. Hence it follows
that the imperatives of prudence do not, strictly speaking, com-
I) 2
36 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [45]
mand at all, that is, they cannot present actions objectively as
practically necessary; that they are rather to be regarded as
counsels (consilia) than precepts (praecepta) of reason, that the
problem to determine certainly and universally (44) what action
would promote the happiness of a rational being is completely
insoluble, and consequently no imperative respecting it is pos-
sible which should, in the strict sense, command to do what
makes happy; because happiness is not an ideal of reason but
of imagination, resting solely on empirical grounds, and it is
vain to expect that these should define an action by which one
could attain the totality of a series of consequences which is
really endless. This imperative of prudence would however
be an analytical proposition if we assume that the means to
happiness could be certainly assigned; for it is distinguished
from the imperative of skill only by this, that in the latter the
end is merely possible, in the former it is given; as however
both only ordain the means to that which we suppose to be
willed as an end, it follows that the imperative which ordains
the willing of the means to him who wills the end is in both
cases analytical. Thus there is no difficulty in regard to the
possibility of an imperative of this kind either.
On the other hand the question, how the imperative of
morality is possible, is undoubtedly one, the only one, demand-
ing a solution, as this is not at all hypothetical, and the ob-
jective necessity which it presents cannot rest on any hypothesis,
as is the case with the hypothetical imperatives. Only here we
must never leave out of consideration that we cannot make out
by any evample, in other words empirically, whether there is
such an imperative at all; but it is rather to be feared that all
those which seem to be categorical may yet be at bottom hypo-
thetical. For instance, when the precept is: Thou shalt not
promise deceitfully; and it is assumed that the necessity of
this is not a mere counsel to avoid some other evil, so that it
should mean: thou shalt not make a lying promise, lest if it
become known thou shouldst destroy thy credit (45), but that an
action of this kind must be regarded as evil in itself, so that
the imperative of the prohibition is categorical; then we cannot
{46] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 37
show with certainty in any example that the will was deter-
mined merely by the law, without any other spring of action,
although it may appear to be so. For it is always possible that
fear of disgrace, perhaps also obscure dread of other dangers,
may have a secret influence on the will. Who can prove by
experience the non-existence of a cause when all that expe-
rience tells us is that we do not perceive it? But in such a case
the so-called moral imperative, which as such appears to be
categorical and unconditional, would in reality be only a prag-
matic precept, drawing our attention to our own interests, and
merely teaching us to take these into consideration. 4 -
We shall therefore have to investigate d priori the possi-
bility of a categorical imperative, as we have not in this case
the advantage of its reality being given in experience; so that
[the elucidation of] its possibility should be requisite only for
its explanation, not for its establishment. In the meantime it
may be discerned beforehand that the categorical imperative
alone has the purport of a practical law: all' the rest may
indeed be called principles of the will but not laws, since what-
ever is only necessary for the attainment of Æome arbitrary
purpose may be considered as in itself contingent, and we can
at any time be free from the precept if we give up the purpose:
on the contrary, the unconditional cºmmand leaves the will no
liberty to choose the opposite; consenyently it alone carries with
it that necessity which we require in a law.
Secondly, in the ease of this categorical imperative or law of
morality, the difficulty (of discerning its possibility) is a very
profound one (46). It is an a priori synthetical practical propo-
sition;' and as there is so much difficulty in discerning the pos-
º
*I connect the act with the will without presupposing any condition
resulting from any inclination, but d priori, and therefore necessarily
(though only objectively, i. e. assuming the idea of a reason possessing full
power over all subjective motives). This is accordingly a practical propo-
sition which does not deduce the willing of an action by mere analysis from .
another already presupposed (for we have not such a perfect will), but con-
nects it immediately with the conception of the will of a rational being, as
something not contained in it.
38 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [47]
i
sibility of speculative propositions of this kind, it may readily
be supposed that the difficulty will be no less with the prac-
tical.
In this problem we will first inquire whether the mere con-
ception of a categorical imperative may not perhaps supply us
also with the formula of it, containing the proposition which
alone can be a categorical imperative; for even if we know the
tenor of such an absolute commaud, yet how if is possible will
require further special and laborious study, which we postpone
to the last section.
When I conceive a hypothetical imperative in general I do
not know beforehand what it will contain until I am given the .

condition. But when I conceive a categorical imperative I
know at once what it contains. For as the imperative contains
besides the law only the necessity that the maxims' shall con-
form to this law, while the law contains no conditions restrict-
ing it, there remains nothing but the general statement that
the maxim of the action should conform to a universal law (47),
and it is this conformity alone that the imperative properly re-
presents as necessary.”
There is therefore but one categorical imperative, namely
this: Act only on that marim whereby thou canst at the same time
will that it should become a universal law. ºf
Now if all imperatives of duty can be deduced from this one
imperative as from their principle, then, although it should
remain undecided whether what is called duty is not merely a
* A MAXIM is a subjective principle of action, and must be distinguished
from the objective principle, namely, practical law. The former contains the
practical rule set by reason according to the conditions of the subject (often
its ignorance or its inclinations), so that it is the principle on which the
subject acts, but the law is the objective principle valid for every rational
being, and is the principle on which it ought to act that is an imperative.
* [I have no doubt that “den” in the original before “Imperativ” is a
misprint for “der,” and have translated accordingly. Mr. Semple has
done the same. The editions that I have seen agree in reading “den,” and
M. Barni so translates. With this reading, it is the conformity that pre-
sents the imperative as necessary.] -
[48] METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 39
vain notion, yet at least we shall be able to show what we
understand by it and what this notion means.
Since the universality of the law according to which effects
are produced constitutes what is properly called nature in the
most general Sense (as to form), that is the existence of things
so far as it is determined by general laws, the imperative of
duty may be expressed thus: Act as if the marim of thy action
were to become by thy will a Universal Law of Nature.
We will now enumerate a few duties, adopting the usual
division of them into duties to ourselves and to others, and into
perfect and imperfect duties." (48).
1. A man reduced to despair by a series of misfortunes
feels wearied of life, but is still so far in possession of his reason
that he can ask himself whether it would not be contrary to his
duty to himself to take his own life. Now he inquires whether
the maxim of his action could become a universal law of nature.
His maxim is: From self-love I adopt it as a principle to
shorten my life when its longer duration is likely to bring
more evil than satisfaction. It is asked then simply whether
this principle founded on self-love can become a universal
law of nature. Now we see at once that a system of nature
of which it should be a law to destroy life by means of the
very feeling whose special nature it is to impel to the improve-
ment of life would contradict itself, and therefore could not
exist as a system of nature; hence that maxim cannot pos-
sibly exist as a universal law of nature, and consequently
* It must be noted here that I reserve the division of duties for a future
metaphysic of morals ; so that I give it here only as an arbitrary one (in
order to arrange my examples). For the rest, I understand by a perfect
duty one that admits no exception in favour of inclination, and then I
have not merely external, but also internal perfect duties. This is contrary
to the use of the word adopted in the schools; but I do not intend to justify
it here, as it is all one for my purpose whether it is admitted or not.
[Perfect duties are usually understood to be those which can be enforced by
external law; imperfect, those which cannot be enforced. They are also
called respectively determinate and indeterminate, officia juris and officia
virtutis.]
40 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [49]
would be wholly inconsistent with the supreme principle of all
duty." * , a * #
2. Another finds himself forced by necessity to borrow
money. He knows that he will not be able to repay it, but
sees also that nothing will be lent to him, unless he promises
stoutly to repay it in a definite time. He desires to make this
promise, but he has still so much conscience as to ask himself:
Is it not unlawful and inconsistent with duty to got out of a
difficulty in this way? Suppose however that he resolves to
do so, then the maxim of his action would be expressed thus:
When I think myself in want of money, I will borrow money
and promise to repay it, although I know that I never can do
so. Now this principle of self-love or of one’s own advantage
may perhaps be consistent with my whole future welfare; but
the question now is, Is it right? I change then the suggestion
of self-love into a universal law, and state the question thus (49):
How would it be if my maxim were a universal law P. Then I
See at once that it could never hold as a universal law of
nature, but would necessarily contradict itself. For supposing
it to be a universal law that everyone when he thinks himself
in a difficulty should be able to promise whatever he pleases,
with the purpose of not keeping his promise, the promise itself
would become impossible, as well as the end that one might
have in view in it, since no one would consider that anything
was promised to him, but would ridicule all such statements as
vain pretences. 4
3. A third finds in himself a talent which with the help of
some culture might make him a useful man in many respects.
But he finds himself in comfortable circumstances, and prefers
to indulge in pleasure rather than to take pains in enlarging
and improving his happy natural capacities. He asks, how-
ever, whether his maxim of neglect of his natural gifts, besides
agreeing with his inclination to indulgence, agrees also with
what is called duty. He sees then that a system of nature
could indeed subsist with such a universal law although men
* [On suicide ef. further Metaphysik der Sitten, p. 274.]
[50] METAPEIYSIC OF MORALS. 41
(like the South Sea islanders) should let their talents rust, and
resolve to devote their lives merely to idleness, amusement, and
propagation of their species—in a word, to enjoyment; but he
cannot possibly will that this should be a universal law of
nature, or be implanted in us as such by a natural instinct.
For, as a rational being, he necessarily wills that his faculties
be developed, since they serve him, and have been given him,
for all sorts of possible purposes.
4. A fourth, who is in prosperity, while he sees that others
have to contend with great wretchedness and that he could
help them, thinks: What concern is it of mine? Let everyone
be as happy (50) as heaven pleases, or as he can make himself;
I will take nothing from him nor even envy him, only I do not
wish to contribute anything to his welfare or to his assistance
in distress l Now no doubt if such a mode of thinking were a
universal law, the human race might very well subsist, and
doubtless even better than in a state in which everyone talks of
sympathy and good-will, or even takes care occasionally to put
it into practice, but on the other side, also cheats when he can,
betrays the rights of men, or otherwise violates them. But
although it is possible that a universal law of nature might
exist in accordance with that maxim, it is impossible to will
that such a principle should have the universal validity of a law
of nature. For a will which resolved this would contradict
itself, inasmuch as many cases might occur in which one would
have need of the love and sympathy of others, and in which, by
such a law of nature, sprung from his own will, he would
deprive himself of all hope of the aid he desires.
These are a few of the many actual duties, or at least what
we regard as such, which obviously fall into two classes on the
One principle that we have laid down. We must be able to will
that a maxim of our action should be a universal law. This
is the canon of the moral appreciation of the action gene-
rally. Some actions are of such a character that their maxim
cannot without contradiction be even conceived as a universal
law of nature, far from it being possible that we should will
that it should be so. In others this intrinsic impossibility is not
|
42 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [52]
found, but still it is impossible to will that their maxim should
be raised to the universality of a law of nature, since such a
will would contradict itself. It is easily seen that the former
violate strict or rigorous (inflexible) duty (51); the latter only
laxer (meritorious) duty. Thus it has been completely shown by
these examples how all duties depend as regards the nature of
the obligation (not the object of the action) on the same principle.
If now we attend to ourselves on Occasion of any transgres-
sion of duty, we shall find that we in fact do not will that our
maxim should be a universal law, for that is impossible for us;
on the contrary we will that the opposite should remain a
universal law, only we assume the liberty of making an eacep-
tion in our own favour or (just for this time only) in favour of
our inclination. Consequently if we considered all cases from
one and the same point of view, namely, that of reason, we should
find a contradiction in our own will, namely, that a certain prin-
ciple should be objectively necessary as a universal law, and yet
subjectively should not be universal, but admit of exceptions.
As however we at one moment regard our action from the point
of view of a will wholly conformed to reason, and then again
look at the same action from the point of view of a will affected
by inclination, there is not really any contradiction, but an
antagonism of inclination to the precept of reason, whereby the
universality of the principle is changed into a mere generality,
so that the practical principle of reason shall meet the maxim
half way. Now, although this cannot be justified in our own
impartial judgment, yet it proves that we do really recognise
the validity of the categorical imperative and (with all respect
for it) only allow ourselves a few exceptions, which we think
unimportant and forced from us.
We have thus established at least this much, that if duty is
a conception which is to have any import and real legislative
authority for our actions (52), it can only be expressed in cate-
gorical, and not at all in hypothetical imperatives. We have
also, which is of great importance, exhibited clearly and defi-
nitely for every practical application the content of the cate-
gorical imperative, which must contain the principle of all
[53] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 43.
duty if there is such a thing at all. We have not yet, however,
advanced so far as to prove d priori that there actually is such
an imperative, that there is a practical law which commands
i absolutely of itself, and without any other impulse, and that the
following of this law is duty.
With the view of attaining to this it is of extreme impor-
tance to remember that we must not allow ourselves to think of
deducing the reality of this principle from the particular attri-
butes of human nature. For duty is to be a practical, uncondi-
tional necessity of action; it must therefore hold for all rational
beings (to whom an imperative can apply at all) and for this
reason only be also a law for all human wills. On the contrary,
whatever is deduced from the particular natural characteristics
of humanity, from certain feelings and propensions," may even,
if possible, from any particular tendency proper to human
reason, and which need not necessarily hold for the will of
every rational being ; this may indeed supply us with a maxim,
but not with a law; with a subjective principle on which we
may have a propension and inclination to act, but not with
an objective principle on which we should be enjoined to act,
even though all our propensions, inclinations, and natural dis-
positions were opposed to it. In fact the sublimity and intrinsic
dignity of the command in duty are so much the more evident,
the less the subjective impulses favour it and the more they
oppose it, without being able in the slighest degree to weaken
the obligation of the law or to diminish its validity (53).
Here then we see philosophy brought to a critical position,
since it has to be firmly fixed, notwithstanding that it has
nothing to support it either in heaven or earth. Here it must
show its purity as absolute dictator of its own laws, not the
*\ t
[* Kant distinguishes “Hang (propensio)” from “Neigung (inclinatio)”
as follows:—“Hang’’ is a predisposition to the desire of some enjoyment ;
in other words, it is the subjective possibility of excitement of a certain
desire, which precedes the conception of its object. When the enjoyment
has been experienced, it produces a “Neigung” (inclination) to it, which
accordingly is defined “habitual sensible desire.”—Anthropologie, §§ 72, 79;
Religion, p. 31.]
44 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [54]
herald of those which are whispered to it by an implanted sense
or who knows what tutelary nature. Although these may be
better than nothing, yet they can never afford principles dic-
£ated by reason, which must have their source wholly d prior;
and thence their commanding authority, expecting everything
from the supremacy of the law and the due respect for it,
nothing from inclination, or else condemning the man to self-
contempt and inward abhorrence.
Thus every empirical element is not only quite incapable of
being an aid to the principle of morality, but is even highly
prejudicial to the purity of morals, for the proper and inesti-
mable worth of an absolutely good will consists just in this, that
the principle of action is free from all influence of contingent
grounds, which alone experience can furnish. We cannot too
much or too often repeat our warning against this lax and even
mean habit of thought which seeks for its principle amongst
empirical motives and laws; for human reason in its weariness
is glad to rest on this pillow, and in a dream of sweet illusions
(in which, instead of Juno, it embraces a cloud) it substitutes
for morality a bastard patched up from limbs of various deri-
vation, which looks like anything one chooses to see in it; only
not like virtue to one who has once beheld her in her true form."
(54) The question then is this: Is it a necessary law for all
rational beings that they should always judge of their actions by
maxims of which they can themselves will that they should
serve as universal laws P. If it is so, then it must be connected
(altogether d priori) with the very conception of the will of a
rational being generally. But in order to discover this con-
nexion we must, however reluctantly, take a step into meta-
physic, although into a domain of it which is distinct from
speculative philosophy, namely, the metaphysic of morals. In
* To behold virtue in her proper form is nothing else but to contemplate
morality stripped of all admixture of sensible things (54) and of every
spurious ornament of reward or self-love. How much she then eclipses
everything else that appears charming to the affections, every one may
readily perceive with the least exertion of his reason, if it be not wholly
spoiled for abstraction.
[55] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 45.
a practical philosophy, where it is not the reasons of what hap-
pens that we have to ascertain, but the laws of what ought to
happen, even although it never does, i.e. objective practical
laws, there it is not necessary to inquire into the reasons why
anything pleases or displeases, how the pleasure of mere sen-
sation differs from taste, and whether the latter is distinct from
a general satisfaction of reason; on what the feeling of pleasure
or pain rests, and how from it desires and inclinations arise,
and from these again maxims by the co-operation of reason: for
all this belongs to an empirical psychology, which would con-
stitute the second part of physics, if we regard physics as the
philosophy of nature, so far as it is based on empirical laws. But
here we are concerned with objective practical laws, and conse-
quently with the relation of the will to itself so far as it is
determined by reason alone, in which case whatever has refe-
rence to anything empirical is necessarily excluded; since if
reason of itself alone determines the conduct (55) (and it is the
possibility of this that we are now investigating), it must neces-
Sarily do so d priori. -
The will is conceived as a faculty of determining oneself to
action in accordance with the conception of certain laws. And such
a faculty can be found only in rational beings. Now that which
serves the will as the objective ground of its self-determination
is the end, and if this is assigned by reason alone, it must hold
for all rational beings. On the other hand, that which merely
contains the ground of possibility of the action of which the
effect is the end, this is called the means. The subjective
ground of the desire is the Spring, the objective ground of
the volition is the motive ; hence the distinction between sub-
jective ends which rest on springs, and objective ends which
depend on motives valid for every rational being. Practical
principles are formal when they abstract from all subjective
ends, they are material when they assume these, and therefore
particular springs of action. The ends which a rational being
proposes to himself at pleasure as effects of his actions (material
ends) are all only relative, for it is only their relation to the
particular desires of the subject that gives them their worth,
46 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [56]
J
which therefore cannot furnish principles universal and neces-
sary for all rational beings and for every volition, that is to say
practical laws. Hence all these relative ends can give rise only
to hypothetical imperatives.
Supposing, however, that there were something whose exist-
ence has in itself an absolute worth, something which, being an
end in itself, could be a source of definite laws, then in this and
this alone would lie the source of a possible categorical impera-
tive, i.e. a practical law (56).
Now I say: man and generally any rational being easists as
an end in himself, not merely as a means to be arbitrarily used
by this or that will, but in all his actions, whether they concern
himself or other rational beings, must be always regarded at the
same time as an end. All objects of the inclinations have only
a conditional worth, for if the inclinations and the wants founded
on them did not exist, then their object would be without value.
*But the inclinations themselves being sources of want, are so far
from having an absolute worth for which they should be desired,
that on the contrary it must be the universal wish of every
rational being to be wholly free from them. Thus the worth
of any object which is to be acquired by our action is always
conditional. Beings whose existence depends not on our will
but on nature's, have nevertheless, if they are irrational beings,
only a relative value as means, and are therefore called things ;
rational beings, on the contrary, are called persons, because their
very nature points them out as ends in themselves, that is as
something which must not be used merely as means, and so far
therefore restricts freedom of action (and is an object of respect).
These, therefore, are not merely subjective ends whose existence
has a worth for us as an effect of our action, but objective ends,
that is things whose existence is an end in itself: an end more-
over for which no other can be substituted, which they should
subserve merely as means, for otherwise nothing whatever would
possess absolute worth ; but if all worth were conditioned and ,
therefore contingent, then there would be no supreme practical
principle of reason whatever.
If then there is a Supreme practical principle or, in respect of
[58] METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 47
the human will, a categorical imperative, it must be one which (57),
being drawn from the conception of that which is necessarily
an end for every one because it is an end in itself, constitutes
an offective principle of will, and can therefore serve as a
universal practical law. The foundation of this principle is:
rational nature eatists as an end in itself. Man necessarily con-
i ceives his own existence as being so; so far then this is a sub-
jective principle of human actions. But every other rational
being regards its existence similarly, just on the same rational
principle that holds for me:” so that it is at the same time an
objective principle, from which as a supreme practical law all
laws of the will must be capable of being deduced. Accordingly
the practical imperative will be as follows: So act as to treat
humanity, whether in thine own person or in that of any other, in
every case as an end withal, never as means only. We will now
inquire whether this can be practically carried out.
To abide by the previous examples:
Firstly, under the head of necessary duty to oneself: He
who contemplates suicide should ask himself whether his action
can be consistent with the idea of humanity as an end in itself.
If he destroys himself in order to escape from painful circum-
stances, he uses a person merely as a mean to maintain a tole-
rable condition up to the end of life. But a man is not a thing,
that is to say, someting which can be used merely as means,
but must in all his actions be always considered as an end in
himself. I cannot, therefore, dispose in any way of a man in
my own person so as to mutilate him, to damage or kill him (58).
(It belongs to ethics proper to define this principle more pre-
cisely so as to avoid all misunderstanding, e.g. as to the ampu-
tation of the limbs in order to preserve myself; as to exposing
my life to danger with a view to preserve it, &c. This question
is therefore omitted here.)
Secondly, as regards necessary duties, or those of strict obli-
gation, towards others; he who is thinking of making a lying
* This proposition is here stated as a postulate. The grounds of it will
be found in the concluding section.
s
48 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [59]
promise to others will see at Once that he would be using another
man merely as a mean, without the latter containing at the same
time the end in himself. For he whom I propose by such a
promise to use for my own purposes cannot possibly assent to
my mode of acting towards him, and therefore cannot himself
contain the end of this action. This violation of the principle
of humanity in other men is more obvious if we take in ex-
amples of attacks on the freedom and property of others. For
then it is clear that he who transgresses the rights of men,
intends to use the person of others merely as means, without
considering that as rational beings they ought always to be
esteemed also as ends, that is, as beings who must be capable of
containing in themselves the end of the very same action."
Thirdly, as regards contingent (meritorious) duties to one-
self; is not enough that the action does not violate humanity
in our own person as an end in itself, it must also harmonise
with it (59). Now there are in humanity capacities of greater
perfection, which belong to the end that nature has in view in
regard to humanity in ourselves as the subject : to neglect
these might perhaps be consistent with the maintenance of
humanity as an end in itself, but not with the advancement of
this end. -
Fourthly, as regards meritorious duties towards others: the
natural end which all men have is their own happiness. Now
humanity might indeed subsist, although no one should contri-
bute anything to the happiness of others, provided he did not
intentionally withdraw anything from it; but after all this
would only harmonise negatively not positively with humanity
* Let it not be thought that the common : quod tibi non vis fieri, &c.,
could serve here as the rule or principle. For it is only a deduction from
the former, though with several limitations; it cannot be a universal law,
for it does not contain the principle of duties to oneself, nor of the duties of
benevolence to others (for many a one would gladly consent that others.
should not benefit him, provided only that he might be excused from show-
ing benevolence to them), nor finally that of duties of strict obligation to
one another, for on this principle the criminal might argue against the
judge who punishes him, and so on.
[60] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 49
!
as an end in itself, if every one does not also endeavour, as far
as in him lies, to forward the ends of others. For the ends of
any subject which is an end in himself, ought as far as possible
to be my ends also, if that conception is to have its full effect
with me.
This principle, that humanity and generally every rational
nature is an end in itself (which is the supreme limiting con-
dition of every man’s freedom of action), is not borrowed from
experience, firstly, because it is universal, applying as it does to
all rational beings whatever, and experience is not capable of
determining anything about them; secondly, because it does not
present humanity as an end to men (subjectively), that is as an
object which men do of themselves actually adopt as an end;
but as an objective end, which must as a law constitute the
supreme limiting condition of all our subjective ends, let them
be what we will; it must therefore spring from pure reason.
In fact the objective principle of all practical legislation lies
(according to the first principle) in the rule and its form of
universality which makes it capable of being a law (Say, e.g., a
law of nature); but the subjective principle is in the end; now
by the second principle the subject of all ends is each rational
being (60), inasmuch as it is an end in itself. Hence follows
the third practical principle of the will, which is the ultimate
condition of its harmony with the universal practical reason, viz.:
the idea of the will of every rational being as a universally legis-
lative will. º t
On this principle all maxims are rejected which are incon-
sistent with the will being itself universal legislator. Thus the
will is not subject simply to the law, but so subject that it
must be regarded as itself giving the law, and on this ground
only, subject to the law (of which it can regard itself as the
author).
In the previous imperatives, namely, that based on the con-
ception of the conformity of actions to general laws, as in a
Physical system of nature, and that based on the universal pre-
ºrogative of rational beings as ends in themselves—these impera-
tives just because they were conceived as categorical, excluded
E
2)
50 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [61]
from any share in their authority all admixture of any interest
as a spring of action; they were however only assumed to be
categorical, because such an assumption was necessary to ex-
plain the conception of duty. But we could not prove inde-
pendently that there are practical propositions which command
categorically, nor can it be proved in this section ; one thing
however could be done, namely, to indicate in the imperative
itself by some determinate expression, that in the case of voli-
tion from duty all interest is renounced, which is the specific
criterion of categorical as distinguished from hypothetical im-
peratives. This is done in the present (third) formula of the
principle, namely, in the idea of the will of every rational being
as a universally legislating will.
(61) For although a will which is subject to laws may be
attached to this law by means of an interest, yet a will which
is itself a supreme lawgiver so far as it is such cannot possibly
depend on any interest, since a will so dependent would itself
still need another law restricting the interest of its self-love by
the condition that it should be valid as universal law.
Thus the principle that every human will is a will which in
all its maaims gives universal laws", provided it be otherwise
justified, would be very well adapted to be the categorical im-
perative, in this respect, namely, that just because of the idea
of universal legislation it is not based on any interest, and there-
fore it alone among all possible imperatives can be unconditional.
Or still better, converting the proposition, if there is a cate-
gorical imperative (i. e., a law for the will of every rational
being), it can only command that everything be done from
maxims of one’s will regarded as a will which could at the
same time will that it should itself give universal laws, for
in that case only the practical principle and the imperative
which it obeys are unconditional, since they cannot be based on
any interest.
* I may be excused from adducing examples to elucidate this principle,
as those which have already been used to elucidate the categorical impera-
tive and its formula would all serve for the like purpose here.
{62] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 51
Looking back now on all previous attempts to discover the
principle of morality, we need not wonder why they all failed.
It was seen that man was bound to laws by duty, but it was
not observed that the laws to which he is subject are only those
of his own giving, though at the same time they are universal (62),
and that he is only bound to act in conformity with his own
will; a will, however, which is designed by nature to give
universal laws. For when one has conceived man only as sub-
ject to a law (no matter what), then this law required some
interest, either by way of attraction or constraint, since it did
not originate as a law from his own will, but this will was
according to a law obliged by something else to act in a certain
manner. Now by this necessary consequence all the labour
spent in finding a Supreme principle of duty was irrevocably
lost. For men never elicited duty, but only a necessity of
acting from a certain interest. Whether this interest was
private or otherwise, in any case the imperative must be con-
ditional, and could not by any means be capable of being a
moral command. I will therefore call this the principle of
Autonomy of the will, in contrast with every other which I
accordingly reckon as Heteronomy.”
The conception of every rational being as one which must
consider itself as giving in all the maxims of its will universal
laws, so as to judge itself and its actions from this point of view
—this conception leads to another which depends on it and is
very fruitful, namely, that of a kingdom of ends.
By a kingdom. I understand the union of different rational |
beings in a system by common laws. Now since it is by laws
that ends are determined as regards their universal validity,
lieuve, if we abstract from the personal differences of rational
beings, and likewise from all the content of their private ends,
we shall be able to conceive all ends combined in a systematic
whole (including both rational beings as ends in themselves, and
also the special ends which each may propose to himself), that is
• * [Cp. Critical Examination of Practical Reason, p. 184.]
E 2
52 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [64]
to say, we can conceive a kingdom of ends, which on the preced-
ing principles is possible.
(63) For all rational beings come under the law that each of
them must treat itself and all others never merely as means, but in
every case at the same time as ends in themselves. Hence results a
systematic union of rational beings by common objective laws,
i.e., a kingdom which may be called a kingdom of ends, since
what these laws have in view is just the relation of these beings
to one another as ends and means. It is certainly only an ideal.
A rational being belongs as a member to the kingdom of ends
when, although giving universal laws in it, he is also himself
subject to these laws. He belongs to it as sovereign when,
while giving laws, he is not subject to the will of any other.
A rational being must always regard himself as giving laws
either as member or as sovereign in a kingdom of ends which is
rendered possible by the freedom of will. He cannot, however,
maintain the latter position merely by the maxims of his will,
but only in case he is a completely independent being without
wants and with unrestricted power adequate to his will.
Morality consists then in the reference of all action to the
legislation which alone can render a kingdom of ends possible.
This legislation must be capable of existing in every rational
being, and of emanating from his will, so that the principle of
this will is, never to act on any maxim which could not without
contradiction be also a universal law, and accordingly always so
to act that the will could at the same time regard itself as giving in
its maaims universal laws. If now the maxims of rational beings
are not by their own nature coincident with this objective prin-
ciple, then the necessity of acting on it is called practical
necessitation (64), i.e., duty. Tuty does not apply to the sove-
reign in the kingdom of ends, but it does to every member of
it and to all in the same degree.
The practical necessity of acting on this principle, i.e., duty,
does not rest at all on feelings, impulses, or inclinations, but
solely on the relation of rational beings to one another, a rela-
tion in which the will of a rational being must always be
regarded as legislative, since otherwise it could not be conceived
[65] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 53
as an end in itself. Reason then refers every maxim of the will,
regarding it as legislating universally, to every other will and
also to every action towards oneself; and this not on account
of any other practical motive or any future advantage, but from
the idea of the dignity of a rational being, obeying no law but
that which he himself also gives.
In the kingdom of ends everything has either Value or
Dignity. Whatever has a value can be replaced by something
else which is equivalent ; whatever, on the other hand, is above
all value, and therefore admits of no equivalent, has a dignity.
Whatever has reference to the general inclinations and
wants of mankind has a market value; whatever, without pre-
supposing a want, corresponds to a certain taste, that is to a
Satisfaction in the mere purposeless play of our faculties, has a
fancy value ; but that which constitutes the condition under
which alone anything can be an end in itself, this has not
merely a relative worth, i.e., value, but an intrinsic worth, that
is dignity. -
Now morality is the condition under which alone a rational
being can be an end in himself, since by this alone is it possible
that he should be a legislating member in the kingdom of ends.
Thus morality, and humanity as capable of it, is that which
alone has dignity (65). Skill and diligence in labour have a
market value; wit, lively imagination, and humour, have fancy
value; on the other hand, fidelity to promises, benevolence
from principle (not from instinct), have an intrinsic worth.
Neither nature nor art contains anything which in default of
these if could put in their place; for their worth consists not
in the effects which spring from them, not in the use and ad-
vantage which they secure, but in the disposition of mind, that
is, the maxims of the will which are ready to manifest them-
selves in such actions, even though they should not have the
desired effect. These actions also need no recommendation
from any subjective taste or sentiment, that they may be
looked on with immediate favour and satisfaction: they need
no immediate propension or feeling for them; they exhibit the
will that performs them as an object of an immediate respect,
54 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [66]
and nothing but reason is required to impose them on the will;
not to flatter it into them, which, in the case of duties, would be
a contradiction. This estimation therefore shows that the worth
of such a disposition is dignity, and places it infinitely above
all value, with which it cannot for a moment bo brought into
comparison or competition without as it were violating its
Sanctity.
What then is it which justifies virtue or the morally good
disposition, in making such lofty claims? It is nothing less
than the privilege it secures to the rational being of participat-
ing in the giving of universal laws, by which it qualifies him to
be a member of a possible kingdom of ends, a privilege to which
he was already destined by his own nature as being an end in
himself, and on that account legislating in the kingdom of ends;
free as regards all laws of physical nature, and obeying those
only which he himself gives, and by which his maxims can
belong to a system of universal law, to which at the same time
he submits himself. For nothing has any worth except (66) what
the law assigns it. Now the legislation itself which assigns the
worth of everything, must for that very reason possess dignity,
that is an unconditional incomparable worth, and the word
respect alone supplies a becoming expression for the esteem
which a rational being must have for it. Autonomy then
is the basis of the dignity of human and of every rational
nature. -
7. The three modes of presenting the principle of morality that
have been adduced are at bottom only so many formulae of the
very same law, and each of itself involves the other two. There
is, however, a difference in them, but it is rather subjectively
than objectively practical, intended namely to bring an
idea of the reason nearer to intuition (by means of a certain
analogy), and thereby nearer to feeling. All maxims, in fact,
have— - •
1. A form, consisting in universality; and in this view the
formula of the moral imperative is expressed thus, that the
maxims must be so chosen as if they were to serve as universal
laws of nature.
[67] IMETAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 55
2. A matter, namely, an end, and here the formula says
that the rational being, as it is an end by its own nature and
therefore an end in itself, must in every maxim serve as the
condition limiting all merely relative and arbitrary ends.
3. A complete characterisation of all maxims by means of
that formula, namely, that all maxims ought by their own
legislation to harmonise with a possible kingdom of ends as
with a kingdom of nature (67). There is a progress here in the
order of the categories of unity of the form of the will (its
universality), plurality of the matter (the objects, i.e., the ends),
and totality of the system of these. In forming our moral
judgment of actions it is better to proceed always on the strict
method, and start from the general formula of the categorical
imperative: Act according to a mavim which can at the same time
"make itself a universal law. If, however, we wish to gain an
entrance for the moral law, it is very useful to bring one and
the same action under the three specified conceptions, and
thereby as far as possible to bring it nearer to intuition.
We can now end where we started at the beginning, namely,
with the conception of a will unconditionally good. That will
is absolutely good which cannot be evil, in other words, whose
maxim, if made a universal law, could never contradict itself.
This principle then is its supreme law : Act always on such a
maxim as thou canst at the same time will to be a universal
law; this is the sole condition under which a will can never
contradict itself; and such an imperative is categorical. Since
the validity of the will as a universal law for possible actions is
analogous to the universal connexion of the existence of things
by general laws, which is the formal notion of nature in general,
1 [The reading “Maxime,” which is that both of Rosenkranz and Har-
tenstein, is obviously an error for “Materie.”]
*Teleology considers nature as a kingdom of ends; Ethics regards a
possible kingdom of ends as a kingdom of nature. In the first case, the
kingdom of ends is a theoretical idea, adopted to explain what actually is.
In the latter it is a practical idea, adopted to bring about that which is not
yet, but which can be realised by our conduct, namely, if it conforms to
this idea.
56 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [68]
the categorical imperative can also be expressed thus: Act on
maaims which can at the same time have for their object themselves
as universal laws of nature. Such then is the formula of an abso-
lutely good will.
Rational nature is distinguished from the rest of nature by
this, that it sets before itself an end. This end would be the
matter of every good will (68). But since in the idea of a will
that is absolutely good without being limited by any condition
(of attaining this or that end) we must abstract wholly from
every end to be effected (since this would make every will only
relatively good), it follows that in this case the end must be
conceived, not as an end to be effected, but as an independently
existing end. Consequently it is conceived only negatively,
*.e., as that which we must never act against, and which, there-
fore, must never be regarded merely as means, but must in
every volition be esteemed as an end likewise. Now this end
can be nothing but the subject of all possible ends, since this is
also the subject of a possible absolutely good will; for such a
will cannot without contradiction be postponed to any other
object. The principle : So act in regard to every rational
being (thyself and others), that he may always have place in
thy maxim as an end in himself, is accordingly essentially
identical with this other: Act upon a maxim which, at the
same time, involves its own universal validity for every rational
being. For that in using means for every end I should limit
my maxim by the condition of its holding good as a law for
every subject, this comes to the same thing as that the funda-
mental principle of all maxims of action must be that the
subject of all ends, i.e., the rational being himself, be never
employed merely as means, but as the supreme condition re-
stricting the use of all means, that is in every case as an end
likewise. `s
It follows incontestably that, to whatever laws any rational
being may be subject, he being an end in himself must be able
to regard himself as also legislating universally in respect of
these same laws, since it is just this fitness of his maxims for
universal legislation that distinguishes him as an end in him-
[70] METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 57
self; also it follows that this implies his dignity (prerogative)
above all mere physical beings, that he must always take his (69)
maxims from the point of view which regards himself, and like-
wise every other rational being, as lawgiving beings (on which
account they are called persons). In this way a world of
rational beings (mundus intelligibilis) is possible as a kingdom
of ends, and this by virtue of the legislation proper to all per-
sons as members. Therefore every rational being must so act
as if he were by his maxims in every case a legislating member
in the universal kingdom of ends. The formal principle of .
these maxims is: So act as if thy maxim were to serve likewise
as the universal law (of all rational beings). A kingdom of
ends is thus only possible on the analogy of a kingdom of
nature, the former however only by maxims, that is self-
imposed rules, the latter only by the laws of efficient causes
acting under necessitation from without. Nevertheless, although
the system of nature is looked upon as a machine, yet so far as
it has reference to rational beings as its ends, it is given on
this account the name of a kingdom of nature. Now such a
Kingdom of ends would be actually realised by means of
maxims conforming to the canon which the categorical impera-
tive prescribes to all rational beings, if they were universally fol-
!owed. But although a rational being, even if he punctually
follows this maxim himself, cannot reckon upon all others being
therefore true to the same, nor expect that the kingdom of
nature and its orderly arrangements shall be in harmony with
him as a fitting member, so as to form a kingdom of ends to
which he himself contributes, that is to say, that it shall favour
his expectation of happiness, still that law: Act according to
the maxims of a member of a merely possible kingdom of ends
legislating in it universally, remains in its full force, inasmuch
as it commands categorically. And it is just in this that the
paradox lies; that the mere dignity of man as a rational crea-
ture (70), without any other end or advantage to be attained
thereby, in other words, respect for a mere idea, should yet
serve as an inflexible precept of the will, and that it is pre-
cisely in this independence of the maxim on all such springs of
58 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [71]
action that its sublimity consists; and it is this that makes
every rational subject worthy to be a legislative member in the
kingdom of ends: for otherwise he would have to be conceived
only as subject to the physical law of his wants. And although
we should suppose the kingdom of nature and the kingdom of
ends to be united under one sovereign, so that the latter king-
dom thereby ceased to be a mere idea and acquired true reality,
then it would no doubt gain the accession of a strong spring,
but by no means any increase of its intrinsic worth. For this
Sole absolute lawgiver must, notwithstanding this, be always
conceived as estimating the worth of rational beings only by
their disinterested behaviour, as prescribed to themselves from
that idea [the dignity of man] alone. The essence of things
is not altered by their external relations, and that which
abstracting from these, alone constitutes the absolute worth of
man, is also that by which he must be judged, whoever the
judge may be, and even by the Supreme Being. Morality
then is the relation of actions to the autonomy of the will, that
is, to the potential universal legislation by its maxims. An
action that is consistent with the autonomy of the will is per-
mitted; one that does not agree therewith is forbidden. A will
whose maxims necessarily coincide with the laws of autonomy
is a holy will, good absolutely. The dependence of a will not
absolutely good on the principle of autonomy (moral necessi-
tation) is obligation. This then cannot be applied to a holy
being. The objective necessity of actions from obligation is
called duty.
(71) From what has just been said, it is easy to see how it
happens that although the conception of duty implies subjec-
tion to the law, we yet ascribe a certain dignity and sublimity
to the person who fulfils all his duties. There is not, indeed,
any sublimity in him, so far as he is subject to the moral law;
but inasmuch as in regard to that very law he is likewise a
legislator, and on that account alone subject to it, he has sub-
limity. We have also shown above that neither fear nor incli-
ſ
\
l
nation, but simply respect for the law, is the spring which can
give actions a moral worth. Our own will, so far as we sup-
[72] METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 59
pose it to act only under the condition that its maxims are
potentially universal laws, this ideal will which is possible to us
is the proper object of respect, and the dignity of humanity
consists just in this capacity of being universally legislative,
though with the condition that it is itself subject to this same
legislation.
The Autonomy of the Will as the Supreme Principle of Morality.
Autonomy of the will is that property of it by which it is a
law to itself (independently on any property of the objects of
volition). The principle of autonomy then is: Always so to
choose that the same volition shall comprehend the maxims of
our choice as a universal law. We cannot prove that this
practical rule is an imperative, i. e., that the will of every ra-
tional being is necessarily bound to it as a condition, by a
mere analysis of the conceptions which occur in it, since it is
a synthetical proposition (72); we must advance beyond the
cognition of the objects to a critical examination of the subject,
that is of the pure practical reason, for this synthetic proposi-
tion which commands apodictically must be capable of being
cognised wholly d priori. This matter, however, does not
belong to the present section. But that the principle of auto-
nomy in question is the sole principle of morals can be readily
shown by mere analysis of the conceptions of morality. For
by this analysis we find that its principle must be a categorical
imperative, and that what this commands is neither more nor
less than this very autonomy.
Heteronomy of the Will as the Source of all spurious Principles of
Mora/ity.
If the will seeks the law which is to determine it anywhere
else than in the fitness of its maxims to be universal laws of its
Own dictation, consequently if it goes out of itself and seeks this
law in the character of any of its objects, there always results
heteronomy. The will in that case does not give itself the law,
bût it is given by the object through its relation to the will.
This relation whether it rests on inclination or on conceptions of
60 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [73]
reason only admits of hypothetical imperatives: I ought to do
something because I wish for something else. On the contrary,
the moral, and therefore categorical, imperative says: I Ought
to do so and so, even though I should not wish for anything
else. Ea. gr., the former says: I ought not to lie if I would
retain my reputation; the latter says: I Ought not to lie
although it should not bring me the least discredit. The
latter therefore must so far abstract from all objects that they
shall have no influence on the will, in order that practical reason
(will) may not be restricted to administering an interest not
belonging to it (73), but may simply show its own commanding
authority as the supreme legislation. Thus, ea. gr., I Ought to
endeavour to promote the happiness of others, not as if its
realization involved any concern of mine (whether by immediate
inclination or by any satisfaction indirectly gained through
reason), but simply because a maxim which excludes it cannot
be comprehended as a universal law' in one and the same
volition.
CLASSIFICATION
Of all Principles of Morality which can be founded on the Concep-
tion of Heteronomy.
EIere as elsewhere human reason in its pure use, so long as
it was not critically examined, has first tried all possible wrong
ways before it succeeded in finding the one true way.
All principles which can be taken from this point of view
are either empirical or rational. The former, drawn from the
principle of happiness, are built on physical or moral feelings;
the latter, drawn from the principle of perfection, are built either
on the rational conception of perfection as a possible effect, or on
that of an independent perfection (the will of God) as the deter-
mining cause of our will.
Empirical principles are wholly incapable of serving as a
foundation for moral laws. For the universality with which
* [I read allgemeines instead of allgemeinem.]
[75] METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 61
these should hold for all rational beings without distinction, the
unconditional practical necessity which is thereby imposed on
them is lost when their foundation is taken from the particular
constitution of human nature, or the accidental (74) circumstances
in which it is placed. The principle of private happiness, how-
ever, is the most objectionable, not merely because it is false,
and experience contradicts the supposition that prosperity is
always proportioned to good conduct, nor yet merely because
it contributes nothing to the establishment of morality—since
it is quite a different thing to make a prosperous man and
a good man, or to make one prudent and sharp-sighted for his
own interests, and to make him virtuous—but because the
springs it provides for morality are such as rather undermine
it and destroy its sublimity, since they put the motives to virtue
and to vice in the same class, and only teach us to make a
better calculation, the specific difference between virtue and
vice being entirely extinguished. On the other hand, as to
moral feeling, this supposed special sense, the appeal to it is
indeed superficial when those who cannot think believe that
feeling will help them out, even in what concerns general laws:
and besides, feelings which naturally differ infinitely in degree
Cannot furnish a uniform standard of good and evil, nor has
any one a right to form judgments for others by his own feel-
ings: nevertheless this moral feeling is nearer to morality and
its dignity in this respect, that it pays virtue the honour of
ascribing to her immediately the satisfaction and esteem we have
for her, and does not, as it were, tell her to her face that we are
not attached to her by her beauty but by profit.
(75) Amongst the rational principles of morality, the onto-
logical conception of perfection, notwithstanding its defects, is
better than the theological conception which derives morality
*I class the principle of moral feeling under that of happiness, because
eVery empirical interest promises to contribute to our well-being by the
agreeableness that a thing affords, whether it be immediately and without
a view to profit, or whether profit be regarded. We must likewise, with
Hutcheson, class the principle of sympathy with the happiness of others
under his assumed moral sense.
62 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [76]
\\
from a Divine absolutely perfect will. The former is, no doubt,
empty and indefinite, and consequently useless for finding in
the boundless field of possible reality the greatest amount suit-
able for us; moreover, in attempting to distinguish specifically
the reality of which we are now speaking from every other, it
inevitably tends to turn in a circle, and cannot avoid tacitly
presupposing the morality which it is to explain; it is neverthe-
less preferable to the theological view, first, because we have no
intuition of the Divine perfection, and can only deduce it from
our own conceptions, the most important of which is that of
morality, and our explanation would thus be involved in a gross
circle; and, in the next place, if we avoid this, the only notion
of the Divine will remaining to us is a conception made up of
the attributes of desire of glory and dominion, combined with
the awful conceptions of might and vengeance, and any system
of morals erected on this foundation would be directly opposed
to morality.
However, if I had to choose between the notion of the moral
sense and that of perfection in general (two systems which at
least do not weaken morality, although they are totally inca-
pable of serving as its foundation), then I should decide for the
latter, because it at least withdraws the decision of the question
from the sensibility and brings it to the court of pure reason;
and although even here it decides nothing, it at all events
preserves the indefinite idea (of a will good in itself) free from
corruption, until it shall be more precisely defined. "
For the rest I think I may be excused here from a detailed
refutation of all these doctrines; that would only be superfluous
labour, since it is so easy, and is probably so well seen even by
those whose office requires them to decide for one of these
theories (because their hearers would not tolerate suspension of
judgment) (76). But what interests us more here is to know that
the prime foundation of morality laid down by all these prin-
ciples is nothing but heteronomy of the will, and for this reason
they must necessarily miss their aim.
In every case where an object of the will has to be sup-
posed, in order that the rule may be prescribed which is to
[77] MIETAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 63
determine the will, there the rule is simply heteronomy; the
imperative is conditional, namely, if or because one wishes for
this object, one should act so and so : hence it can never
command morally, that is categorically. Whether the object
determines the will by means of inclination, as in the principle
of private happiness, or by means of reason directed to objects
of our possible volition generally, as in the principle of perfec-
tion, in either case the will never determines itself immediately
by the conception of the action, but only by the influence
which the foreseen effect of the action has on the will; I ought
to do something, on this account, because I wish for something else;
and here there must be yet another law assumed in me as its
subject, by which I necessarily will this other thing, and this
law again requires an imperative to restrict this maxim. For
the influence which the conception of an object within the reach
of our faculties can exercise on the will of the subject in conse-
Quence of its natural properties, depends on the nature of the
subject, either the sensibility (inclination and taste), or the
understanding and reason, the employment of which is by the
peculiar constitution of their nature attended with satisfaction.
It follows that the law would be, properly speaking, given by
nature, and as such, it must be known and proved by experi-
ence, and would consequently be contingent, and therefore
incapable of being an apodictic practical rule, such as the moral
rule must be. Not only so, but it is inevitably only hete-
ronomy (77); the will does not give itself the law, but it is given
by a foreign impulse by means of a particular natural constitu-
tion of the subject adapted to receive it. An absolutely good
will then, the principle of which must be a categorical impera-
tive, will be indeterminate as regards all objects, and will
contain merely the form of polition generally, and that as
autonomy, that is to say, the capability of the maxims of every
good will to make themselves a universal law, is itself the
only law which the will of every rational being imposes on
itself, without needing to assume any spring or interest as a
foundation.
How such a synthetical practical a priori proposition is possible
64 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [77]
and why it is necessary, is a problem whose solution does not
lie within the bounds of the metaphysic of morals; and we
have not here affirmed its truth, much less professed to have a
proof of it in our power. We simply showed by the develop-
ment of the universally received notion of morality that an
autonomy of the will is inevitably connected with it, or rather
is its foundation. Whoever then holds morality to be anything
real, and not a chimerical idea without any truth, must like-
wise admit the principle of it that is here assigned. This
section then, like the first, was merely analytical. Now to
prove that morality is no creation of the brain, which it cannot
be if the categorical imperative and with it the autonomy of
the will is true, and as an d priori principle absolutely neces-
sary, this supposes the possibility of a synthetic use of pure
practical reason, which however we cannot venture on without
first giving a critical examination of this faculty of reason. In
the concluding section we shall give the principal outlines of
this critical examination as far as is sufficient for our purpose.
[79] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 65
[75] THIRD SECTION.
TRANSITION FROM THE METAPHYSIC OF MORALS TO THE CRITIQUE
OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
j
-
The Concept of Freedom is the Key that explains the Autonomy
of the Will.
|
THE will is a kind of causality belonging to living beings in so
far as they are rational, and freedom would be this property of
such causality that it can be efficient, independently on foreign
causes determining it; just as physical necessity is the property
that the causality of all irrational beings has of being deter-
mined to activity by the influence of foreign causes.
The preceding definition of freedom is negative, and there-
fore unfruitful for the discovery of its essence; but it leads to a
positive conception which is so much the more full and fruitful.
Since the conception of causality involves that of laws, accord-
ing to which, by something that we call cause, something else,
namely, the effect, must be produced [laid down];" hence,
although freedom is not a property of the will depending on
physical laws, yet it is not for that reason lawless; on the
contrary it must be a causality acting according to immutable
laws, but of a peculiar kind; otherwise a free will would be
an absurdity. Physical necessity (79) is a heteronomy of the
efficient causes, for every effect is possible only according to
, this law, that something else determines the efficient cause to
exert its causality. What else then can freedom of the will be
but autonomy, that is the property of the will to be a law to
1 [Gesetzt.—There is in the original a play on the etymology of Gesetz,
which does not admit of reproduction in English. It must be confessed
that without it the statement is not self-evident.
F
66 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [80]
itself? But the proposition: The will is in every action a law
to itself, only expresses the principle, to act on no other maxim
than that which can also have as an object itself as a universal
law. Now this is precisely the formula of the categorical im-
perative and is the principle of morality, so that a free will and
a will subject to moral laws are one and the same.
On the hypothesis then of freedom of the will, morality
together with its principle follows from it by mere analysis of
the conception. However the latter is still a synthetic propo-
sition; viz., an absolutely good will is that whose maxim can
always include itself regarded as a universal law; for this
property of its maxim can never be discovered by analysing the
conception of an absolutely good will. Now such synthetic
propositions are only possible in this way: that the two cogni-
tions are connected together by their union with a third in
which they are both to be found. The positive concept of
freedom furnishes this third cognition, which cannot, as with
physical causes, be the nature of the sensible world (in the
concept of which we find conjoined the concept of something in
relation as cause to something else as effect). We cannot now at
once show what this third is to which freedom points us, and of
which we have an idea d priori, nor can we make intelligible
how the concept of freedom is shown to be legitimate from prin-
ciples of pure practical reason, and with it the possibility of a
categorical imperative; but some further preparation is required.
~~~. T
[80] FREEDOM
Must be presupposed as a Property of the Will of all Rational
Beings.
It is not enough to predicate freedom of our own will, from
whatever reason, if we have not sufficient grounds for predi-
cating the same of all rational beings. For as morality serves
as a law for us only because we are rational beings, it must also
hold for all rational beings; and as it must be deduced simply
from the property of freedom, it must be shown that freedom
also is a property of all rational beings. It is not enough then
[81] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 67
to prove it from certain supposed experiences of human nature
(which indeed is quite impossible, and it can only be shown
d priori), but we must show that it belongs to the activity of
all rational beings endowed with a will. Now I Bay overy
being that cannot act except under the idea of freedom is just for
that reason in a practical point of view really free, that is to
say, all laws which are inseparably connected with freedom have
the same force for him as if his will had been shown to be free
in itself by a proof theoretically conclusive.' Now I affirm that
we must attribute to every rational being (81) which has a will
that it has also the idea of freedom and acts entirely under this
idea. For in such a being we conceive a reason that is
practical, that is, has causality in reference to its objects. Now
we cannot possibly conceive a reason consciously receiving a
bias from any other quarter with respect to its judgments, for
then the subject would ascribe the determination of its judg-
ment not to its own reason, but to an impulse. It must regard
itself as the author of its principles independent on foreign
influences. Consequently as practical reason or as the will of a
rational being it must regard itself as free, that is to say, the
will of such a being cannot be a will of its own except under
the idea of freedom. This idea must therefore in a practical
point of view be ascribed to every rational being.
Of the Interest attaching to the Ideas of Morality.
We have finally reduced the definite conception of morality
to the idea of freedom. This latter, however, we could not
prove to be actually a property of ourselves or of human nature;
* I adopt this method of assuming freedom merely as an idea which
rational beings suppose in their actions, in order to avoid the necessity of
proving it in its theoretical aspect also. The former is sufficient for my
purpose ; for even though the speculative proof should not be made out, yet
a being that cannot act except with the idea of freedom is bound by the
same laws that would oblige a being who was actually free. Thus we can
escape here from the onus which presses on the theory. [Compare Butler's
treatment of the question of liberty in his Analogy, part I., ch. vi.]
F 2
68 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [82]
only we saw that it must be presupposed if we would conceive
a being as rational and conscious of its causality in respect of
its actions, i. e., as endowed with a will; and so we find that on
just the same grounds we must ascribe to every being endowed
with reason and will this attribute of determining itself to
action under the idea of its freedom.
Now it resulted also from the presupposition of this idea
that we became aware of a law that the subjective principles of
action, i. e., maxims, must always be so assumed that they can
also hold as objective (82), that is, universal principles, and so
serve as universal laws of our own dictation. But why then
should I subject myself to this principle and that simply as a
rational being, thus also subjecting to it all other beings en-
dowed with reason P I will allow that no interest urges me to
this, for that would not give a categorical imperative, but I
must take an interest in it and discern how this comes to pass;
for this “I ought ° is properly an “I would,” valid for every
rational being, provided only that reason determined his actions
without any hindrance. But for beings that are in addition
affected as we are by springs of a different kind, namely, sensi-
bility, and in whose case that is not always done which reason
alone would do, for these that necessity is expressed only as an
“ought,” and the subjective necessity is different from the
objective. * .
It seems then as if the moral law, that is, the principle of
autonomy of the will, were properly speaking only presupposed
in the idea of freedom, and as if we could not prove its reality
and objective necessity independently. In that case we should
still have gained something considerable by at least determin-
ing the true principle more exactly than had previously been
done; but as regards its validity and the practical necessity of
subjecting oneself to it, we should not have advanced a step.
For if we were asked why the universal validity of our maxim
as a law must be the condition restricting our actions, and on
what we ground the worth which we assign to this manner of
acting—a worth so great that there cannot be any higher inte-
rest; and if we were asked further how it happens that it is by
[83] METAPHYSIC OF MORAILS. 69
this alone a man believes he feels his own personal worth, in
comparison with which that of an agreeable or disagreeable
condition is to be regarded as nothing, to these questions we
could give no satisfactory answer. -
(83) We find indeed sometimes that we can take an interest'
in a personal quality which does not involve any interest of
external condition, provided this quality makes us capable of
participating in the condition in case reason were to effect the
allotment; that is to say, the mere being worthy of happiness
can interest of itself even without the motive of participating in
this happiness. This judgment, however, is in fact only the
effect of the importance of the moral law which we before pre-
supposed (when by the idea of freedom we detach ourselves
from every empirical interest); but that we ought to detach
ourselves from these interests, i.e., to consider ourselves as free
in action and yet as subject to certain laws, so as to find a worth
simply in our own person which can compensate us for the loss
of everything that gives worth to our condition; this we are not
yet able to discern in this way, nor do we see how it is possible so
to act—in other words, whence the moral law derives its obligation.
It must be freely admitted that there is a sort of circle here
from which it seems impossible to escape. In the order of
efficient causes we assume ourselves free, in order that in the
order of ends we may conceive ourselves as subject to moral
laws: and we afterwards conceive ourselves as subject to these
laws, because we have attributed to ourselves freedom of will :
for freedom and self-legislation of will are both autonomy, and
therefore are reciprocal conceptions, and for this very reason
one must not be used to explain the other or give the reason of
it, but at most only for logical purposes to reduce apparently
different notions of the same object to one single concept (as We
reduce different fractions of the same value to the lowest terms).
One resource remains to us, namely, to inquire whether
we do not occupy different points of view when by means of
* [“Interest” means a spring of the will, in so far as this spring is
presented by Reason. See note, p. 80.]
70 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [85}
freedom (84) we think ourselves as causes efficient d priori, and
when we form our conception of ourselves from our actions as
effects which we see before our eyes.
It is a remark which needs no subtle reflection to make, but
which we may assume that even the commonest understanding
can make, although it be after its fashion by an obscure dis-
cernment of judgment which it calls feeling, that all the
“ideas '' that come to us involuntarily (as those of the senses)
do not enable us to know objects otherwise than as they affect
us; so that what they may be in themselves remains unknown
to us, and consequently that as regards “ideas' of this kind
even with the closest attention and clearness that the under-
standing can apply to them, we can by them only attain to the
knowledge of appearances, never to that of things in themselves.
As soon as this distinction has once been made (perhaps merely
in consequence of the difference observed between the ideas
given us from without, and in which we are passive, and those
that we produce simply from ourselves, and in which we show
our own activity), then it follows of itself that we must admit
and assume behind the appearance something else that is not
an appearance, namely, the things in themselves; although we
must admit that as they can never be known to us except as
they affect us, we can come no nearer to them, nor can we ever
know what they are in themselves. This must furnish a dis-
tinction, however crude, between a world of sense and the world
of understanding, of which the former may be different accord-
ing to the difference of the sensuous impressions in various
observers, while the second which is its basis always remains
the same. Even as to himself, a man cannot pretend to know
what he is in himself from the knowledge he has by internal
Sensation (85). For as he does not as it were create himself,
and does not come by the conception of himself d priori but
empirically, it naturally follows that he can obtain his know-
ledge even of himself only by the inner sense, and consequently
* [The common understanding being here spoken of, I use the word
“idea" in its popular sense.]
| 86] METAPEHYSIC OF MORALS. 71
only through the appearances of his nature and the way in
which his consciousness is affected. At the same time beyond
these characteristics of his own subject, made up of mere ap-
pearancos, ho must necessarily suppose something else as their
basis, namely, his ego, whatever its characteristics in itself may
be. Thus in respect to mere perception and receptivity of sen-
sations he must reckon himself as belonging to the world of
Sense, but in respect of whatever there may be of pure activity
in him (that which reaches consciousness immediately and not
through affecting the senses) he must reckon himself as belong-
ing to the intellectual world, of which however he has no further
knowledge. To such a conclusion the reflecting man must
come with respect to all the things which can be presented to
him : it is probably to be met with even in persons of the com-
monest understanding, who, as is well known, are very much
inclined to suppose behind the objects of the senses something
else invisible and acting of itself. They spoil it however by
presently sensualizing this invisible again; that is to say, want-
ing to make it an object of intuition, so that they do not
become a whit the wiser.
Now man really finds in himself a faculty by which he dis-
tinguishes himself from everything else, even from himself as
affected by objects, and that is Reason. This being pure spon-
taneity is even elevated above the understanding. For although
the latter is a spontaneity and does not, like sense, merely con-
tain intuitions that arise when we are affected by things (and
are therefore passive), yet it cannot produce from its activity
any other conceptions than those which merely serve to bring
the intuitions of sense under rules (86), and thereby to unite them
in one consciousness, and without this use of the sensibility it
could not think at all; whereas, on the contrary, Reason shows
so pure a spontaneity in the case of what I call Ideas [Ideal
Conceptions] that it thereby far transcends everything that
the sensibility can give it, and exhibits its most important
function in distinguishing the world of sense from that of
understanding, and thereby prescribing the limits of the under-
standing itself.
72 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [87]
For this reason a rational being must regard himself qua
intelligence (not from the side of his lower faculties) as be-
longing not to the world of sense, but to that of understanding;
hence he has two points of view from which he can regard him-
self, and recognise laws of the exercise of his faculties, and
consequently of all his actions: first, so far as he belongs to
the world of sense, he finds himself subject to laws of nature
(heteronomy); secondly, as belonging to the intelligible world,
under laws which being independent on nature have their
foundation not in experience but in reason alone.
As a rational being, and consequently belonging to the
intelligible world, man can never conceive the causality of his
own will otherwise than on condition of the idea of freedom, for
independence on the determining causes of the sensible world
(an independence which Reason must always ascribe to itself) is
freedom. Now the idea of freedom is inseparably connected
with the conception of autonomy, and this again with the uni-
versal principle of morality which is ideally the foundation of
all actions of rational beings, just as the law of nature is of all
phenomena.
Now the suspicion is removed which we raised above, that
there was a latent circle involved in our reasoning from freedom
to autonomy, and from this to the moral law, viz.: that we
laid down the idea of freedom because of the moral law only
that we might afterwards in turn infer the latter from free-
dom (87), and that consequently we could assign no reason at
all for this law, but could only [present]' it as a petitio principii
which well disposed minds would gladly concede to us, but
which we could never put forward as a provable proposition.
For now we see that when we conceive ourselves as free we
transfer ourselves into the world of understanding as members
of it, and recognise the autonomy of the will with its conse-
quence, morality; whereas, if we conceive ourselves as under
obligation we consider ourselves as belonging to the world of
sense, and at the same time to the world of understanding.
* [The verb is wanting in the original.]
[88] METAPPHYSIC OF MORALS. 73
How is a Categorical Imperative Possible 3
Every rational being reckons himself qua intelligence as
belonging to the world of understanding, and it is simply as
an efficient cause belonging to that world that he calls his
causality a will. On the other side he is also conscious of him-
self as a part of the world of sense in which his actions which
are mere appearances [phenomena] of that causality are dis-
played; we cannot however discern how they are possible from
this causality which we do not know ; but instead of that, these
actions as belonging to the sensible world must be viewed as
determined by other phenomena, namely, desires and inclina-
tions. If therefore I were only a member of the world of
understanding, then all my actions would perfectly conform to
the principle of autonomy of the pure will; if I were only a
part of the world of sense they would necessarily be assumed to
conform wholly to the natural law of desires and inclinations,
in other words, to the heteronomy of nature. (The former
would rest on morality as the Supreme principle, the latter on
happiness.) Since however the world of understanding contains
the foundation of the world of sense, and consequently of its laws
also, and accordingly gives the law to my will (which belongs
wholly to the world of understanding) directly (88), and must
be conceived as doing so, it follows that, although on the one
side I must regard myself as a being belonging to the world of
sense, yet on the other side I must recognise myself as subject
as an intelligence to the law of the world of understanding,
i.e., to reason, which contains this law in the idea of freedom,
and therefore as subject to the autonomy of the will: conse-
quently I must regard the laws of the world of understanding
as imperatives for me, and the actions which conform to them
as duties.
And thus what makes categorical imperatives possible is this,
that the idea of freedom makes me a member of an intelligible
world, in consequence of which if I were nothing else all my
actions would always conform to the autonomy of the will; but
as I at the same time intuite myself as a member of the world
74 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [89]
of sense, they ought so to conform, and this categorical “ought ‘’
implies a synthetic d priori proposition, inasmuch as besides my
will as affected by sensible desires there is added further the idea
of the same will but as belonging to the world of the understand-
ing, pure and practical of itself, which contains the Supreme
condition according to Reason of the former will; precisely as
to the intuitions of sense there are added concepts of the un-
derstanding which of themselves Signify nothing but regular
form in general, and in this way synthetic d priori propositions
become possible, on which all knowledge of physical nature
rests.
The practical use of common human reason confirms this
reasoning. There is no one, not even the most consummate villain,
provided only that he is otherwise accustomed to the use of
reason, who, when we set before him examples of honesty of
purpose, of steadfastness in following good maxims, of sympathy
and general benevolence (even combined with great sacrifices of
advantages and comfort), does not wish that he might also possess
these qualities. Only on account of his inclinations and impulses
he cannot attain this in himself (89), but at the same time he
wishes to be free from such inclinations which are bundensome
to himself. He proves by this that he transfers himself in
thought with a will free from the impulses of the sensibility
into an order of things wholly different from that of his desires
in the field of the sensibility; since he cannot expect to obtain
by that wish any gratification of his desires, nor any position
which would satisfy any of his actual or supposable inclinations
(for this would destroy the pre-eminence of the very idea which
wrests that wish from him) : he can only expect a greater
intrinsic worth of his own person. This better person, however,
he imagines himself to be when he transfers himself to the point
of view of a member of the world of the understanding, to which
he is involuntarily forced by the idea of freedom, i.e., of indepen-
dence on determining causes of the world of sense; and from this
point of view he is conscious of a good will, which by his own
confession constitutes the law for the bad will that he possesses
as a member of the world of sense—a law whose authority he
[90] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 75
recognises while transgressing it. What he morally “ought”
is then what he necessarily “would’ as a member of the world
of the understanding, and is conceived by him as an “ought”
only inasmuch as he likewise considers himself as a member of
the world of sense.
On the Ectreme Limits of all Practical Philosophy.
All men attribute to themselves freedom of will. Hence come
all judgments upon actions as being such as ought to have been
done, although they have not been done. However this freedom is
not a conception of experience, nor can it be so, since it still
remains (90), even though experience shows the contrary of what
on Supposition of freedom are conceived as its necessary conse-
quences. On the other side it is equally necessary that every-
thing that takes place should be fixedly determined according
to laws of nature. This necessity of nature is likewise not
an empirical conception, just for this reason, that it involves the
*hotion of necessity and consequently of d priori cognition. But
this conception of a system of nature is confirmed by expe-
rience, and it must even be inevitably presupposed if experience
itself is to be possible, that is, a connected knowledge of the
objects of sense resting on general laws. Therefore freedom is
only an Idea [Ideal Conception] of Reason, and its objective
reality in itself is doubtful, while nature is a concept of the
wnderstanding which proves, and must necessarily prove, its
reality in examples of experience.
There arises from this a dialectic of Reason, since the free-
dom attributed to the will appears to contradict the necessity of
nature, and placed between these two ways Reason for specula-
tive purposes finds the road of physical necessity much more
beaten and more appropriate than that of freedom; yet for
practical purposes the narrow footpath of freedom is the only
one on which it is possible to make use of reason in our conduct;
hence it is just as impossible for the subtlest philosophy as for
the commonest reason of men to argue away freedom. Philo-
sophy must then assume that no real contradiction will be found
between freedom and physical necessity of the same human
76 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [91]
actions, for it cannot give up the conception of nature any more
than that of freedom. y
Nevertheless, even though we should never be able to com-
prehend how freedom is possible, we must at least remove this
apparent contradiction in a convincing manner. For if the
thought of freedom contradicts either itself or nature, which is
equally necessary (91), it must in competition with physical
necessity be entirely given up.
It would, however, be impossible to escape this contradiction
if the thinking subject, which seems to itself free, conceived itself
£n the same sense or in the very same relation when it calls itself
free as when in respect of the same action it assumes itself to be
subject to the law of nature. Hence it is an indispensable
problem of speculative philosophy to show that its illusion re-
specting the contradiction rests on this, that we think of man in
a different sense and relation when we call him free, and when
we regard him as subject to the laws of nature as being part and
parcel of nature. It must therefore show that not only can both
these very well co-exist, but that both must be thought as neces-
sarily united in the same subject, since otherwise no reason could
be given why we should burden reason with an idea which, though
it may possibly without contradiction be reconciled with another
that is sufficiently established, yet entangles us in a perplexity
which Sorely embarrasses Reason in its theoretic employment.
This duty, however, belongs only to speculative philosophy, in
Order that it may clear the way for practical philosophy. The
philosopher then has no option whether he will remove the
apparent contradiction or leave it untouched; for in the latter
case the theory respecting this would be bonum vacans into the
possession of which the fatalist would have a right to enter, and
chase all morality out of its supposed domain as occupying it
without title.
We cannot, however, as yet say that we are touching the
bounds of practical philosophy. For the settlement of that
controversy does not belong to it; it only demands from
speculative reason that it should put an end to the discord
in which it entangles itself in theoretical questions, so that
[92] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 77
practical reason may have rest and security from external
attacks (92) which might make the ground debatable on which
it desires to build. -
The claims to freedom of will made even by common reason
are founded on the consciousness and the admitted supposition
that reason is independent on merely subjectively determined
causes which together constitute what belongs to sensation only,
and which consequently come under the general designation of
sensibility. Man considering himself in this way as an intelli-
gence, places himself thereby in a different order of things and
in a relation to determining grounds of a wholly different kind
when on the one hand he thinks of himself as an intelligence
endowed with a will, and consequently with causality, and
when on the other he perceives himself as a phenomenon in the
world of sense (as he really is also), and affirms that his
causality is subject to external determination according to laws
of nature." Now he soon becomes aware that both can hold
good, nay, must hold good at the same time. For there is not
the smallest contradiction in saying that a thing in appearance
(belonging to the world of Sense) is subject to certain laws, on
which the very same as a thing or being in itselfis independent;
and that he must conceive and think of himself in this two-fold
way, rests as to the first on the consciousness of himself as an
object affected through the senses, and as to the second on the
consciousness of himself as an intelligence, i. e., as independent
on sensible impressions in the employment of his reason (in
other words as belonging to the world of understanding).
Hence it comes to pass that man claims the possession of a
will which takes no account of anything that comes under the
head of desires and inclinations, and on the contrary conceives
actions as possible to him, nay, even as necessary, which can
only be done by disregarding all désires and sensible inclina-
* [The punctuation of the original gives the following sense: “Submits
his causality, as regards its external determination, to laws of nature.” I
have ventured to make what appears to be a necessary correction, by simply
removing a comma.] ſº
78 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [93]
tions. The causality of such actions' lies in him as an intelli-
gence and in the laws of effects and actions [which depend] on
the principles (93) of an intelligible world, of which indeed he
knows nothing more than that in it pure reason alone indepen-
dent on sensibility gives the law; moreover since it is only in
that world, as an intelligence, that he is his proper self (being
as man only the appearance of himself) those laws apply to him
directly and categorically, so that the Incitements of Inclina-
tions and appetites (in other words the whole nature of the
world of sense) cannot impair the laws of his volition as an
intelligence. Nay, he does not even hold himself responsible
for the former or ascribe them to his proper self, i.e., his will:
he only ascribes to his will any indulgence which he might
yield them if he allowed them to influence his maxims to the
prejudice of the rational laws of the will.
When practical Reason thinks itself into a world of under-
standing it does not thereby transcend its own limits, as it
would if it tried to enter it by intuition or sensation. The
former is only a negative thought in respect of the world of
sense, which does not give any laws to reason in deter-
mining the will, and is positive only in this single point that
this freedom as a negative characteristic is at the same time
conjoined with a (positive) faculty and even with a cau-
sality of reason, which we designate a will, namely, a faculty
of so acting that the principle of the actions shall conform to
the essential character of a rational motive, i. e., the condition
that the maxim have universal validity as a law. But were it
to borrow an object of will, that is, a motive, from the world of
understanding, then it would overstep its bounds and pretend
to be acquainted with something of which it knows nothing.
The conception of a world of the understanding is then only a
point of view which Reason finds itself compelled to take outside
the appearances in order to conceive itself as practical, which
would not be possible if the influences of the sensibility had a
"[M. Barni translates as if he read desselben instead of derselben, “the
causality of this will.” So also Mr. Semple.]
[95] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 79
determining power on man (94), but which is necessary unless
he is to be denied the consciousness of himself as an intelli-
gence, and consequently as a rational cause, energizing by
reason, that is, operating freely. This thought certainly in-
volves the idea of an Order and a system of laws different from
that of the mechanism of nature which belongs to the sensible
world, and it makes the conception of an intelligible world
necessary (that is to say, the whole system of rational beings as
things in themselves). But it does not in the least authorize
us to think of it further than as to its formal condition only,
that is, the universality of the maxims of the will as laws, and
consequently the autonomy of the latter, which alone is con-
sistent with its freedom ; whereas, on the contrary, all laws
that refer to a definite object give heteronomy, which only
belongs to laws of nature, and can only apply to the Sensible
world.
But Reason would overstep all its bounds if it undertook
to eaplain how pure reason can be practical, which would
be exactly the same problem as to explain how freedom is
possible.
For we can explain nothing but that which we can reduce
to laws, the object of which can be given in some possible
experience. But freedom is a mere Idea [Ideal Conception],
the objective reality of which can in no wise be shown according
to laws of nature, and consequently not in any possible ex-
perience ; and for this reason it can never be comprehended or
understood, because we cannot support it by any sort of ex-
ample or analogy. It holds good only as a necessary hypothesis
of reason in a being that believes itself conscious of a will, that
is, of a faculty distinct from mere desire (namely a faculty of
determining itself to action as an intelligence, in other words,
by laws of reason independently on natural instincts) (95). Now
where determination according to laws of nature ceases, there
all eaglanation ceases also, and nothing remains but defence, i.e.,
the removal of the objections of those who pretend to have seen
deeper into the nature of things, and thereupon boldly declare
freedom impossible. We can only point out to them that the
80 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [96]
supposed contradiction that they have discovered in it arises
only from this, that in order to be able to apply the law of
nature to human actions, they must necessarily consider man as
an appearance: then when we demand of them that they should
also think of him qua intelligence as a thing in itself, they still
persist in considering him in this respect also as an appearance.
In this view it would no doubt be a contradiction to suppose
the causality of the same subject (that is, his will) to be with-
drawn from all the natural laws of the sensible world. But
this contradiction disappears, if they would only bethink them-
selves and admit, as is reasonable, that behind the appearances
there must also lie at their root (although hidden) the things in
themselves, and that we cannot expect the laws of these to be
the same as those that govern their appearances.
The subjective impossibility of explaining the freedom of
the will is identical with the impossibility of discovering and
explaining an interest' which (96) man can take in the moral
law. Nevertheless he does actually take an interest in it, the
basis of which in us we call the moral feeling, which some have
falsely assigned as the standard of our moral judgment, whereas
it must rather be viewed as the subjective effect that the law
exercises on the will, the objective principle of which is fur-
nished by Reason alone.
In order indeed that a rational being who is also affected
through the senses should will what Reason alone directs such
* Interest is that by which reason becomes practical, i.e., a cause de-
termining the will. Hence we say of rational beings only that they take an
interest in a thing; irrational beings only feel sensual appetites. Reason
takes a direct interest in action then only when the universal validity of its
maxims is alone sufficient to determine the will. Such an interest alone is
pure. But if it can determine the will only by means of another object of
desire or on the suggestion of a particular feeling of the subject, then
Reason takes only an indirect interest in the action, and as Reason by
itself without experience cannot discover either objects of the will or a
special feeling actuating it, this latter interest would only be empirical, and
not a pure rational interest. The logical interest of Reason (namely, to
extend its insight) is never direct, but presupposes purposes for which
reason is employed.
[97] METAPEHYSIC OF MORAT.S. 81
beings that they ought to will, it is no doubt requisite that
reason should have a power to infuse a feeling of pleasure or
satisfaction in the fulfilment of duty, that is to say, that it
should have a causality by which it determines the sensibility
according to its own principles. But it is quite impossible to
discern, i. e. to make it intelligible d priori, how a mere thought,
which itself contains nothing sensible, can itself produce a sen-
sation of pleasure or pain; for this is a particular kind of
causality of which as of every other causality we can determine
nothing whatever d priori, we must only consult experience
about it. But as this cannot supply us with any relation of
cause and effect except between two objects of experience,
whereas in this case, although indeed the effect produced lies
within experience, yet the cause is supposed to be pure reason
acting through mere ideas which offer no object to experi-
ence, it follows that for us men it is quite impossible to
explain how and why the universality of the maa'im as a law,
that is, morality, interests. This only is certain, that it is
not because it interests us that it has validity for us (for that
would be heteronomy and dependence of practical reason on
sensibility, namely, on a feeling as its principle, in which case
it could never give moral laws) (97), but that it interests us
because it is valid for us as men, inasmuch as it had its source
in our will as intelligences, in other words in our proper self,
and what belongs to mere appearance is necessarily subordinated by
reason to the nature of the thing in itself.
The question then : How a categorical imperative is pos-
sible can be answered to this extent that we can assign the only
hypothesis on which it is possible, namely, the idea of freedom ;
and we can also discern the necessity of this hypothesis, and this
is sufficient for the practical eacercise of reason, that is, for the
conviction of the validity of this imperative, and hence of the
moral law; but how this hypothesis itself is possible can never
be discerned by any human reason. On the hypothesis, how-
ever, that the will of an intelligence is free, its autonomy, as the
essential formal condition of its determination, is a necessary
consequence. Moreover, this freedom of will is not merely quite
G.
82 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF THE [98]
possible as a hypothesis (not involving any contradiction to the
principle of physical necessity in the connexion of the phe-
nomena of the sensible world) as speculative philosophy can
show: but further, a rational being who is conscious of a
causality" through reason, that is to say, of a will (distinct from
desires), must of necessity make it practically, that is, in idea,
the condition of all his voluntary actions. But to explain how
pure reason can be of itself practical without the aid of any
spring of action that could be derived from any other source,
i.e. how the mere principle of the universal validity of all its
marims as laws (which would certainly be the form of a pure
practical reason) can of itself supply a spring, without any
matter (object) of the will in which one could antecedently take
any interest (98); and how it can produce an interest which
would be called purely moral; or in other words, how pure
reason can be practical—to explain this is beyond the power of
human reason, and all the labour and pains of seeking an
explanation of it are lost.
It is just the same as if I sought to find out how freedom
itself is possible as the causality of a will. For then I quit the
ground of philosophical explanation, and I have no other to go
upon. I might indeed revel in the world of intelligences which
still remains to me, but although I have an idea of it which is
well founded, yet I have not the least knowledge of it, nor can I
ever attain to such knowledge with all the efforts of my natural
faculty of reason. It signifies only a something that remains
over when I have eliminated everything belonging to the world
of sense from the actuating principles of my will, serving
merely to keep in bounds the principle of motives taken from
the field of sensibility; fixing its limits and showing that it
does not contain all in all within itself, but that there is more
beyond it ; but this something more I know no further. Of
pure reason which frames this ideal, there remains after the
abstraction of all matter, i.e. knowledge of objects, nothing but
the form, namely, the practical law of the universality of the
* [Reading ‘einer” for “seiner.’]
[99] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 83
maxims, and in conformity with this the conception of reason
in reference to a pure world of understanding as a possible
efficient cause, that is a cause determining the will. There
must here be a total absence of springs; unloss this idea of an
intelligible world is itself the spring, or that in which reason
primarily takes an interest; but to make this intelligible is
precisely the problem that we cannot solve.
Here now is the extreme limit of all moral inquiry (99), and
it is of great importance to determine it even on this account, in
Order that reason may not on the one hand, to the prejudice of
morals, seek about in the world of sense for the supreme motive
and an interest comprehensible but empirical; and on the other
hand, that it may not impotently flap its wings without being
able to move in the (for it) empty space of transcendent con-
cepts which we call the intelligible world, and so lose itself
amidst chimeras. For the rest, the idea of a pure world of
understanding as a system of all intelligences, and to which we
ourselves as rational beings belong (although we are likewise
on the other side members of the sensible world), this remains
always a useful and legitimate idea for the purposes of rational
belief, although all knowledge stops at its threshold, useful,
namely, to produce in us a lively interest in the moral law by
means of the noble ideal of a universal kingdom of ends in
themselves (rational beings), to which we can belong as members
then only when we carefully conduct ourselves according to the
maxims of freedom as if they were laws of nature.
Concluding Remark.
The speculative employment of reason with respect to nature
leads to the absolute necessity of Some Supreme cause of the
world : the practical employment of reason with a view to
freedom leads also to absolute necessity, but only of the laws of
the actions of a rational being as such. Now it is an essential
principle of reason, however employed, to push its knowledge to
a consciousness of its necessity (without which it would not be
rational knowledge). It is however an equally essential re-
striction of the same reason that it can neither discern the
G 2
84 FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES, ETC. | 100]
necessity (100) of what is or what happens, nor of what ought to
happen, unless a condition is supposed on which it is or happens
or ought to happen. In this way, however, by the constant
inquiry for the condition, the satisfaction of reason is only
further and further postponed. Hence it unceasingly seeks the
unconditionally necessary, and finds itself forced to assume it,
although without any means of making it comprehensible to
itself, happy cnough if only it can discover a conception which
agrees with this assumption. It is therefore no fault in our
deduction of the supreme principle of morality, but an objec-
tion that should be made to human reason in general, that it
cannot enable us to conceive the absolute necessity of an un-
conditional practical law (such as the categorical imperative
must be). It cannot be blamed for refusing to explain this
necessity by a condition, that is to say, by means of some
interest assumed as a basis, since the law would then cease to be
a moral law, i. e. a supreme law of freedom. And thus while
we do not comprehend the practical unconditional necessity of
the moral imperative, we yet comprehend its incomprehensibility,
and this is all that can be fairly demanded of a philosophy
which strives to carry its principles up to the very limit of
human reason.
O RITICAL EXAMINATION
OF
PR A CT IC A. L. R. E. A. S C) N.
PREFA CE.
HIS WORK is called the “Critical Examination of
Practical Reason,” not of the pure practical reason,
although its parallelism with the speculative critique would
seem to require the latter term. The reason of this appears
sufficiently from the treatise itself. Its business is to show
that there is pure practical reason, and for this purpose it criti-
cises the entire practical faculty of reason. If it succeeds in
this it has no need to criticise the pure faculty itselſ in order
to see whether reason in making such a claim does not pre-
sumptuously overstep itself (as is the case with the speculative
reason). For if, as pure reason, it is actually practical, it
proves its own reality and that of its concepts by fact, and all
disputation against 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
reason required it in its use of the concept of causality in order
to escape the antinomy into which it inevitably falls, when in
the chain 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
it any objective reality, and merely lest the supposed impos-
sibility of what it must at least allow to be thinkable (106)
88 PREFACE TO CRITICAL EXAMINATION [107]
should endanger its very being and plunge it into an abyss
of Scepticism.
Inasmuch as the reality of the concept of freedom is
proved by an apodictic law of practical reason, it is the
keystone of the whole system of pure reason, even the specu-
lative, and all other concepts (those of God and immortality)
which, as being mere ideas, remain in it unsupported, Ilow
attach themselves to this concept, and by it obtain consistence
and objective reality; that is to say, their possibility is proved
by the fact that freedom actually exists, for this idea is
revealed by the moral law.
Ereedom, however, is the only one of all the ideas of the
speculative reason of which we know the possibility d priori
(without, however, understanding it), because it is the con-
dition of the moral law which we know." The ideas of God
and Immortality, however, are not conditions of the moral
law, but only conditions of the necessary object of a will
determined by this law : that is to say, conditions of the
practical use of our pure reason. Hence with respect to
these ideas we cannot affirm that we know and understand, I
will not say the actuality, but even the possibility of them.
However they are the conditions of the application of the
morally (107) determined will to its object, which is given to
* Lest any one should imagine that he finds an inconsistency here when
I call freedom the condition of the moral law, and hereafter maintain in
the treatise itself that the moral law is the condition under which we can
first become conscious of freedom, I will merely remark that freedom is the
ratio essend of the moral law, while the moral law is the ratio cognoscend;
of freedom. For had not the moral law been previously distinctly thought
in our reason, we should never consider ourselves justified in assuming
such a thing as freedom, although it be not contradictory. But were
there no freedom it would be impossible to trace the moral law in ourselves
at all.
[107] OF PRACTICAL REASON. 89
it d priori, viz. the summum bonum. Consequently in this
practical point of view their possibility must be assumed,
although we cannot theoretically know and understand it.
To justify this assumption it is sufficient, in a practical point
of view, that they contain no intrinsic impossibility (contra-
diction). Here we have what, as far as speculative Reason
is concerned, is a merely subjective principle of assent, which,
however, is objectively valid for a Reason equally pure but
practical, and this principle, by means of the concept of
freedom, assures objective reality and authority to the ideas
of God and Immortality. Nay, there is a subjective necessity
(a need of pure reason) to assume them. Nevertheless the
theoretical knowledge of reason is not hereby enlarged, but
only the possibility is given, which heretofore was merely
a problem, and now becomes assertion, and thus the practical
use of reason is connected with the elements of theoretical
reason. And this need is not a merely hypothetical one for
the arbitrary purposes of speculation, that we must assume
Something if we wish in speculation to carry reason to its
utmost limits, but it is a need which has the force of law to
assume something without which that cannot be which we
must inevitably set before us as the aim of our action.
It would certainly be more satisfactory to our speculative
reason if it could solve these problems for itself without this
circuit, and preserve the solution for practical use as a thing
to be referred to, but in fact our faculty of speculation is
not so well provided. Those who boast of such high know-
ledge ought not to keep it back, but to exhibit it publicly
that it may be tested and appreciated. They want to prove :
Very good, let them prove; and the critical philosophy lays
its arms at their feet as the victors. “Quid statis P Nolint.
90 PREFAGE TO CRITICAL ExAMINATION [109]
Atqui licet esse beatis.” As they then do not in fact choose
to do so, probably because (108) they cannot, we must take up
these arms again in order to seek in the mortal use of reason,
and to base on this, the motions of God, freedom, and immor-
tality, the possibility of which 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
the categories in speculation, and yet admit this reality with
respect to the objects of pure practical reason. This must
at first seem inconsistent as long as this practical use is only
nominally known. But when, by a thorough analysis of it,
one becomes aware that the reality spoken of does not imply
any theoretical determination of the categories, and extension
of our knowledge to the supersensible; but that what is
meant is that in this respect an object belongs to them, be-
cause either they are contained in the necessary determination
of the will d priori, or are inseparably connected with its
object ; then this inconsistency disappears, because the use
we make of these concepts is different from what specula-
tive reason requires. On the other hand, there now appears
an unexpected and very satisfactory proof of the consistency
of the speculative critical philosophy. For whereas it insisted
that the objects of experience as such, including our own
subject, have only the value of phenomena, while at the same
time things in themselves must be supposed as their basis,
so that not everything supersensible was to be regarded as
a fiction and its concepts as empty; so now practical reason
itself, without any concert with the speculative, assures reality
to a superSensible object of the category of causality, viz.
Freedom, although (as becomes a practical concept) (109) only
[log] OF PRACTICAL REASON. 91
fºr practical use; and this establishes on the evidence of a
fact that which in the former case could only be conceived.
E}y this the strange but certain doctrine of the speculative
critical philosophy, that the thinking subject is to itself in
internal intuition only a phenomenon, obtains in the critical
examination of the practical reason its full confirmation, and
that so thoroughly that we should be compelled to adopt
this doctrine, even if the former had never proved it at all."
By this also I can understand why the most consider-
able objections which I have as yet met with against the
Critique turn about these two points, namely, on the one
side, the objective reality of the categories as applied to
noumena, which is in the theoretical department of know-
ledge denied, in the practical affirmed; and on the other-
side, the paradoxical demand to regard oneself quá subject
of freedom as a noumenon, and at the same time from the
point of view of physical nature as a phenomenon in one's
own empirical consciousness; for as long as one has formed
no definite notions of morality and freedom, one could not
conjecture on the one side what was intended to be the
noumenon, the basis of the alleged phenomenon, and on the
other side it seemed doubtful whether it was at all possible
to form any notion of it, seeing that we had previously
assigned all the notions of the pure understanding in its
theoretical use exclusively to phenomena. Nothing but a
detailed criticism of the practical reason can remove all this
'The union of causality as freedom with causality as rational mechanism,
the former established by the moral law, the latter by the law of nature in
the same subject, namely, man, is impossible, unless we conceive him with
reference to the former as a being in himself, and with reference to the
latter as a phenomenon—the former in pure consciousness, the latter in
empirical consciousness. Otherwise reason inevitably contradicts itself.
92 PREFACE TO CRITICAL EXAMINATION [110]
misapprehension, and set in a clear light the consistenºy
which constitutes its greatest merit.
(110) So much by way of justification of the proceeding
by which, in this work, the notions and principles of pute
speculative reason which have already undergone their spe-
cial critical examination, are, now and then, again subjected
to examination. This would not in other cases be in accord-
ance with the systematic process by which a science is estab-
lished, since matters which have been decided ought only to
be cited and not again discussed. In this case, however, it
was not only allowable but necessary, because Reason is here
considered in transition to a different use of these concepts
from what it had made of them before. Such a transition
necessitates a comparison of the old and the new usage, in
order to distinguish well the new path from the old One, and,
at the same time, to allow their connexion to be observed.
Accordingly considerations of this kind, including those which
are Once more directed to the concept of freedom in the
practical use of the pure reason, must not be regarded as an
interpolation serving only to fill up the gaps in the critical
system of speculative reason (for this is for its own purpose
complete), or like the props and buttresses which in a hastily
constructed building are often added afterwards; but as true
members which make the connexion of the system plain, and
show us concepts, here presented as real, which there could
only be presented problematically. This remark applies espe-
cially to the concept of freedom, respecting which one cannot
but observe with surprise, that so many boast of being able
to understand it quite well, and to explain its possibility,
while they regard it only psychologically, whereas if they
had studied it in a transcendental point of view, they must
[111] OF PRACTICAL REASON. 93
have recognised that it is not only indispensable as a proble-
matical concept, in the complete use of speculative reason,
but also quite incomprehensible (111); and if they afterwards
came to consider its practical use, they must needs have
come to the very mode of determining the principles of this,
to which they are now so loth to assent. The concept of
freedom is the stone of stumbling for all empiricists, but at
the same time the key to the loftiest practical principles for
critical moralists, who perceive by its means that they must
necessarily proceed by a rational method. For this reason I
beg the reader not to pass lightly over what is said of this
concept at the end of the Analytic.
I must leave it to those who are acquainted with works
of this kind to judge whether such a system as that of the
practical reason, which is here developed from the critical
examination of it, has cost much or little trouble, especially
in seeking not to miss the true point of view from which
the whole can be rightly sketched. It presupposes, indeed,
the Fundamental Principles of the Metaphysic of Morals, but
Only in so far as this gives a preliminary acquaintance with
the principle of duty, and assigns and justifies a definite
formula thereof; in other respects it is independent." It
results from the nature of this practical faculty itself that
1 A reviewer who wanted to find some fault with this work has hiſ the
truth better, perhaps, than he thought, when he says that no new principle
of morality is set forth in it, but only a new formula. But who would
think of introducing a new principle of all morality, and making himself
as it were the first discoverer of it, just as if all the world before him were
ignorant what duty was or had been in thorough-going error P But whoever
knows of what importance to a mathematician a formula is, which defines
accurately what is to be done to work a problem, will not think that a
formula is insignificant and useless which does the same for all duty in
general.
94 PREFACE TO CRITICAL EXAMINATION [113]
the complete classification of all practical Sciences cannot be
added, as in the critique of the speculative reason (112). For
it is not possible to define duties specially, as human duties,
with a view to their classification, until the subject of this
definition (viz. man) is known according to his actual nature,
at least so far as is necessary with respect to duty; this,
however, does not belong to a critical examination of the
practical reason, the business of which is only to assign in a
complete manner the principles of its possibility, extent, and
limits, without special reference to human nature. The clas-
sification then belongs to the system of science, not to the
system of criticism.
In the second part of the Analytic I have given, as I
trust, a sufficient answer to the objection of a truth-loving
and acute critic' of the Fundamental Principles of the Meta-
physic of Morals—a critic always worthy of respect—the ob-
jection, namely, that the notion of good was not established before
the moral principle, as he thinks it ought to have been” (113).
1 [Probably Professor Garve. See Kant’s ‘Das mag in Der Theorie
richtig Seym, etc.” Werke, vol. vii. p. 182.]
* It might also have been objected to me that I have not first defined the
notion of the faculty of desire, or of the feeling of pleasure, although this
reproach would be unfair, because this definition might reasonably be pre-
supposed as given in psychology. However, the definition there given might
be such as to found the determination of the faculty of desire on the feeling
of pleasure (as is commonly done), and thus the supreme principle of practi-
cal philosophy would be necessarily made empirical, which, however, remains
to be proved, and in this critique is altogether refuted. I will, therefore,
give this definition here in such a manner as it ought to be given, in order
to leave this contested point open at the beginning, as it should be. LIFE is
the faculty a being has of acting according to laws of the faculty of desire.
The faculty of DESIRE is the being's faculty of becoming by means of its ideas
the cause of the actual eacistence of the objects of these ideas. PLEASURE is the
dea of the agreement of the object, or the action with the subjective conditions of
[114] OF PRACTICAL REASON. 95.
I have also had regard to many of the objections which have
reached me from men who show that they have at 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 who
have already settled what is to be approved or disapproved,
do not desire any explanation which might stand in the way
of their own private opinion).
When we have to study a particular faculty of the human
mind in its Sources, its content, and its limits; then from the
nature of human knowledge we must begin with its parts,
with an accurate and complete exposition of them ; complete,
namely, so far as is possible in the present state of our know-
ledge of its elements. But there is another thing to be at-
tended to which is of a more philosophical and architectonic
character, namely, to grasp correctly the idea of the whole,
and from thence to get a view of all those parts as mutually
related by the aid of pure reason, and by means of their
derivation from the concept of the whole (114). This is only
life, i.e. with the faculty of causality of an idea in respect of the actuality of
&ts object (or with the determination of the forces of the subject to the action
which produces it) (113). Ihave no further need for the purposes of this
critique of notions borrowed from psychology; the critique itself supplies
the rest. It is easily seen that the question, whether the faculty of desire
is always based on pleasure, or whether under certain conditions pleasure
only follows thc determination of desire, is by this definition left undecided,
for it is composed only of terms belonging to the pure understanding, i.e.
of categories which contain nothing empirical. Such precaution is very
desirable in all philosophy, and yet is often neglected; namely, not to
prejudge questions by adventuring definitions before the notion has been
completely analysed, which is often very late. It may be observed through
the whole course of the critical philosophy (of the theoretical as well as the
practical reason) that frequent opportunity offers of supplying defects in
the old dogmatic method of philosophy, and of correcting errors which are
not observed until we make such rational use of these notions viewing them
as a whole.
96 PREFACE TO CRITICAL EXAMINATION [114]
possible through the most intimate acquaintance with the
system ; and those who find the first inquiry too troublesome,
and do not think it worth their while to attain such an
acquaintance, cannot reach the second stage, namely, the
general view, which is a synthetical return to that which
had previously been given analytically. It is no wonder
then if they find inconsistencies everywhere, although the
gaps which these indicate are not in the system itself, but
in their own incoherent train of thought.
I have no fear, as regards this treatise, of the reproach
that I wish to introduce a new language, since the sort of
knowledge here in question has itself somewhat of an every-
day character. Nor even in the case of the former critique
could this reproach occur to any one who had thought it
through, and not merely turned over the leaves. To invent
new words where the language has no lack of expressions
for given notions is a childish effort to distinguish oneself
from the crowd, if not by new and true thoughts, yet by new
patches on the old garment. If, therefore, the readers of
that work know any more familiar expressions which are as
suitable to the thought as those seem to me to be, or if they
think they can show the futility of these thoughts themselves,
and hence that of the expression, they would, in the first
case, very much oblige me, for I Only desire to be under-
stood ; and, in the second case, they would deserve well of
philosophy. But, as long as these thoughts stand, I very
much doubt that suitable, and yet more common, expressions
for them can be found."
* I am more afraid in the present treatise of occasional misconception in
respect of some expressions which I have chosen with the greatest care (115),
in order that the notion to which they point may not be missed. Thus, in the
[116] OF PRACTICAL IRIEASON. 97
(115) In this manner then the d priori principles of two
faculties of the mind, the faculty of cognition and (116) that
of desire, would be found and determined as to the conditions,
extent, and limits of their use, and thus a sure foundation be
laid for a scientific system of philosophy, both theoretic and
practical.
Nothing worse could happen to these labourers than that
anyone should make the unexpected discovery that there neither
is, nor can be, any d priori knowledge at all. But there is no
danger of this. This would be the same thing as if one
sought to prove by Reason that there is no Reason. For
we only say that we know something by Reason, when we
are conscious that we could have known it, even if it had
not been given to us in experience; hence rational know-
ledge and knowledge d priori are one and the same. It is
a clear contradiction to try to extract necessity from a prin-
ciple of experience (ea pumice aquam), and to try by this to
give a judgment true universality (without which there is
no rational inference, not even inference from analogy, which
is at least a presumed universality and objective necessity).
To substitute subjective necessity, that is, custom, for objec-
tive, which exists only in d priori judgments, is to deny to
Reason the power of judging about the object, i.e. of knowing
it, and what belongs to it. It implies, for example, that we
must not say of something which often or always follows a
certain antecedent state, that we can conclude from this to
that (for this would imply objective necessity and the notion
of an d priori connexion), but only that we may expect
table of categories of the practical reason under the title of Modality, the
permitted and forbidden (in a practical objective point of view, Possible
and Impossible) have almost the same meaning in common language as the
IH
98 PREFACE TO CRITICAL EXAMINATION [117]
similar cases (just as animals do), that is, that we reject the
motion of cause altogether as false and a mere delusion. As
to attempting to remedy this want of objective, and conse-
quent universal, validity by saying that we can see no
ground (117) for attributing any other sort of knowledge to
other rational beings, if this reasoning were valid, our igno-
rance would do more for the enlargement of our knowledge
than all our meditation. For, then, on this very ground
that we have no knowledge of any other rational beings
besides man, we should have a right to suppose them to be
of the same nature as we know ourselves to be : that is, we
should really know them. I omit to mention that universal
assent does not prove the objective validity of a judgment
(i.e. its validity as a cognition), and although this universal
assent should accidentally happen, it could furnish no proof
of agreement with the object; on the contrary, it is the
objective validity which alone constitutes the basis of a neces-
sary universal consent.
next category, Duty and Contrary to Duty. Here, however, the former
means what coincides with, or contradicts, a merely possible practical pre-
cept (for example the solution of all problems of geometry and mechanics);
the latter, what is similarly related to a law actually present in the reason;
and this distinction is not quite foreign even to common language, although
somewhat unusual. For example, it is forbidden to an orator, as such, to
forge new words or constructions; in a certain degree this is permitted to a
poet ; in neither case is there any question of duty. For if anyone chooses
to forfeit his reputation as an orator, no one can prevent him. We have
here only to do with the distinction of imperatives into problematical, asser-
torial, and apodictic. Similarly in the note in which I have compared the
moral ideas of practical perfection in different philosophical schools, I have
distinguished the idea of wisdom from that of holiness, although I have
stated that essentially and objectively they are the same. But in that
place I understand by the former only that wisdom to which man (the Stoic)
lays claim ; therefore I take it subjectively as an attribute alleged to belong
[117] OF PRACTICAL REASON. 99
Hume would be quite satisfied with this system of uni-
versal empiricism, for, as is well known, he desired nothing
more than that instead of ascribing any objective meaning
to the necessity in the 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 was certainly well
able to deduce his conclusions therefrom, with all logical
coherence. But even Hume did not make his empiricism so
universal as to include mathematics. He holds the princi-
ples of mathematics to be analytical, and if this were correct
they would certainly be apodictic also ; but we could not infer
from this that reason has the faculty of forming apodictic
judgments in philosophy also—that is to say, those which are
synthetical judgments, like the judgment of causality. But
if we adopt a universal empiricism, then mathematics will be
included.
Now if this science is in contradiction with a reason that
to man. (Perhaps the expression virtue, with which also the Stoic made
great show, would better mark the characteristic of his school.) The ex-
pression of a postulate of pure practical reason might give most occasion to
misapprehension in case the reader confounded it with the signification of
the postulates in pure mathematics, which carry apodictic certainty with
them. These, however, postulate the possibility of an action, the object of
which has been previously recognised d priori in theory as possible, and
that with perfect certainty. But the former postulates the possibility of an
object itself (God and the immortality of the soul) from apodictic practical
laws, and therefore only for the purposes of a practical reason. This cer-
ºtainty of the postulated possibility then is not at all theoretic, and conse-
quently not apodictic, that is to say, it is not a known necessity as regards
the object, but a necessary supposition as regards the subject, necessary for
the obedience to its objective but practical laws. It is, therefore, merely a
necessary hypothesis. I could find no better expression for this rational
necessity, which is subjective, but yet true and unconditional.
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100 PREFACE TO CRITICAL EXAMINATION, ETC. [118]
admits only empirical principles (118), as it inevitably is in
the antinomy in which mathematics prove the infinite divisi-
bility of space, which empiricism cannot admit; then the
greatest possible evidence of demonstration is in manifest
contradiction with the alleged conclusions from experience,
and we are driven to ask, like Cheselden’s blind patient,
“Which deceives me, sight or touch P” (for empiricism is
based on a necessity felt, rationalism on a necessity seen).
And thus universal empiricism reveals itself as absolute scep-
ticism. It is erroneous to attribute this in such an un-
qualified sense to Hume, since he left at least one certain
touchstone of experience, namely, mathematics; whereas
thorough scepticism admits no such touchstone (which can
only be found in d priori principles), although experience
consists not only of feelings, but also of judgments.
However, as in this philosophical and critical age such
empiricism can scarcely be serious, and it is probably put
forward only as an intellectual exercise, and for the purpose
of putting in a clearer light, by contrast, the necessity of
rational d priori principles, we can only be grateful to those
who employ themselves in this otherwise uninstructive labour.
* Names that designate the followers of a sect have always been accom-
panied with much injustice; just as if one said, N is an Idealist. For
although he not only admits, but even insists, that our ideas of external
things have actual objects of external things corresponding to them, yet he
holds that the form of the intuition does not depend on them but on the
human mind. [N is clearly Kant himself.]
†120]
INTRODUCTION.
OF THE IDEA OF A. CRITIQUE OF PRACTICAL
REASON. *
fTVHE theoretical use of reason was concerned with objects of
the cognitive faculty only, and a critical examination of
it with reference to this use applied properly only to the pure
faculty of cognition ; because this raised the suspicion, which
was afterwards confirmed, that it might easily pass beyond its
limits, and be lost among unattainable objects, or even contra-
dictory notions. It is quite different with the practical use of
reason. In this, reason is concerned with the grounds of deter-
mination of the will, which is a faculty either to produce objects
corresponding to ideas, or to determine ourselves to the effecting
of such objects (whether the physical power is sufficient or not);
that is, to determine our causality. For here, reason can at
least attain so far as to determine the will, and has always
objective reality in so far as it is the volition only that is in
question. The first question here then is, whether pure reason
of itself alone suffices to determine the will, or whether it can
be a ground of determination only as dependent on empirical
conditions (120). Now, here there comes in a notion of cau-
sality justified by the critique of the pure reason, although not
capable of being presented empirically, viz. that of freedom ;
and if we can now discover means of proving that this property
does in fact belong to the human will (and so to the will of all
rational beings), then it will not only be shown that pure reason
can be practical, but that it alone, and not reason empirically
limited, is indubitably practical; consequently, we shall have
to make a critical examination, not of pure practical reason, but
102 INTRODUCTION. [121]
only of practical reason generally. For when once pure reason
is shown to exist it needs no critical examination. For reason
itself contains the standard for the critical examination of every
use of it. The critique, then, of practical reason generally is
bound to prevent the empirically conditioned reason from claim-
ing exclusively to furnish the ground of determination of the
will. If it is proved that there is a [practical]" reason, its em-
ployment is alone immanent ; the empirically conditioned use,
which claims supremacy, is on the contrary transcendent, and
expresses itself in demands and precepts which go quite beyond
its sphere. This is just the opposite of what might be said of
pure reason in its speculative employment.
BIowever, as it is still pure reason, the knowledge of which
is here the foundation of its practical employment, the general
outline of the classification of a critique of practical reason must
be arranged in accordance with that of the speculative. We
must then have the Elements and the Methodology of it; and in
the former an Analytic as the rule of truth, and a Dialectic as
the exposition and dissolution of the illusion in the judgments
of practical reason (121). But the order in the subdivision of
the Analytic will be the reverse of that in the critique of the
pure speculative reason. For, in the present case, we shall com-
mence with the principles and proceed to the concepts, and only
then, if possible, to the senses; whereas in the case of the specu-
lative reason we began with the senses, and had to end with the
principles. The reason of this lies again in this: that now we
have to do with a will, and have to consider reason, not in its
relation to objects, but to this will and its causality. We must,
then, begin with the principles of a causality not empirically
conditioned, after which the attempt can be made to establish
our notions of the determining grounds of such a will, of their
application to objects, and finally to the subject and its sense
faculty. We necessarily begin with the law of causality from
freedom, that is, with a pure practical principle, and this deter-
mines the objects to which alone it can be applied.
"[The original has “pure,” an obvious error.]
PART FIRST.
ELEMENTS OF PURE PRAGTICAL REASON.
{126]
B () () K I,
THE ANALYTIC OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
CEIAPTER I.
OF THE PRINCIPLES OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
§ I.—DEFINITION.
RACTICAL PRINCIPLES are propositions which con-
tain a general determination of the will, having under
it several practical rules. They are subjective, or Maaims,
when the condition is regarded by the subject as valid only
for his own will, but are objective, or practical laws, when
the condition is recognised as objective, that is, valid for
the will of every rational being.
T&EMARK.
Supposing that pure reason contains in itself a practical
motive (126), that is, one adequate to determine the will, then
there are practical laws; otherwise all practical principles
will be mere maxims. In case the will of a rational being
is pathologically affected, there may occur a conflict of the
maxims with the practical laws recognised by itself. For
example, one may make it his maxim to let no injury pass
unrevenged, and yet he may see that this is not a practical
law, but only his own maxim ; that, on the contrary, re-
garded as being in one and the same maxim a rule for
the will of every rational being, it must contradict itself.
In natural philosophy the principles of what happens (e.g.
106 THE ANALYTIC OF [127]
the principle of equality of action and reaction in the com-
munication of motion) are at the same time laws of nature;
for the use of reason there is theoretical, and determined by
the nature of the object. In practical philosophy, i.e. that
which has to do only with the grounds of determination of
the will, the principles which a man makes for himself are
not laws by which one is inevitably bound; because reason
in practical matters has to do with the subject, namely, with
the faculty of desire, the special character of which may
occasion variety 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 case of a being with whom reason does
not of itself determine the will, this rule is an imperative,
i. e. a rule characterised by “shall,” which expresses the ob-
jective necessitation of the action, and signifies that if reason
completely determined the will, the action would inevitably
take place according to this rule. Imperatives, therefore, are
objectively valid, and are quite distinct from maxims, which
are subjective principles. The former either determine the
conditions of the causality of the rational being as an efficient
cause, i. e. merely in reference to the effect and the means
of attaining it; or they determine the will only, whether
it is adequate to the effect or not (127). The former would
be hypothetical imperatives, and contain mere precepts of
skill; the latter, on the contrary, would be categorical, and
would alone be practical laws. Thus maxims are principles,
but not imperatives. Imperatives themselves, however, when
they are conditional (i. e. do not determine the will simply as
will, but only in respect to a desired effect, that is, when
they are hypothetical imperatives), are practical precepts but
not laws. Laws must be sufficient to determine the will as
will, even before I ask whether I have power sufficient for a
desired effect, or the means necessary to produce it; hence they
are categorical: otherwise they are not laws at all, because
the necessity is wanting, which, if it is to be practical, must
be independent on conditions which are pathological, and are
therefore only contingently connected with the will. Tell a
[128] BUIRE PRACTICAL REASON. 107
man, for example, that he must be industrious and thrifty in
youth, in order that he may not want in old age; this is a
Gorrect and important practical precept of the will. But it
is easy to see that in this case the will is directed to some-
thing else which it is presupposed that it desires; and as to
this desire, we must leave it to the actor himself whether he
looks forward to other resources than those of his own acqui-
sition, or does not expect to be old, or thinks that in case
of future necessity he will be able to make shift with little.
Reason, from which alone can spring a rule involving neces-
sity, does, indeed, give necessity to this precept (else it would
not be an imperative), but this is a necessity dependent on
subjective conditions, and cannot be supposed in the same
degree in all subjects. But that reason may give laws it is
necessary that it should only need to presuppose itself, because
rules are objectively and universally valid only when they
hold without any contingent subjective conditions, which dis-
tinguish one rational being from another. Now tell a man
that he should never make a deceitful promise, this is a rule
which only concerns his will, whether the purposes he may
have can be attained thereby or not (128); it is the volition
only which is to be determined d priori by that rule. If now
it is found that this rule is practically right, then it is a law,
because it is a categorical imperative. Thus, practical laws
refer to the will only, without considering what is attained
by its causality, and we may disregard this latter (as belong-
ing to the world of sense) in order to have them quite pure.
§ II.--THEOREM I.
All practical principles which presuppose an object (matter)
of the faculty of desire as the ground of determination of the
will are empirical, and can furnish no practical laws.
By the matter of the faculty of desire I mean an object
the realization of which is desired. Now, if the desire for this
object precedes the practical rule, and is the condition of our
making it a principle, then I say (in the first place) this principle
I ()8 THE ANALYTIC OF [129]
is in that case wholly empirical, for then what determines the
choice is the idea of an object, and that relation of this idea to
the subject by which its faculty of desire is determined to its
realization. Such a relation to the subject is called the pleasure
in the realization of an object. This, then, must be presupposed
as a condition of the possibility of determination of the will.
But it is impossible to know d priori of any idea of an object
whether it will be connected with pleasure or pain, or be indif-
ferent. In such cases, therefore, the determining principle of
the choice must be empirical, and, therefore, also the practical
material principle which presupposes it as a condition.
(129) In the second place, since susceptibility to a pleasure or
pain can be known only empirically, and cannot hold in the
same degree for all rational beings, a principle which is based
on this subjective condition may serve indeed as a maa'im for the
subject which possesses this susceptibility, but not as a law even
to him (because it is wanting in objective necessity, which must
be recognised d priori); it follows, therefore, that such a prin-
ciple can never furnish a practical law.
§ III.--THEOREM II.
All material practical principles as such are of one and the
same kind, and come under the general principle of self-love or
private happiness.
Pleasure arising from the idea of the existence of a thing,
in so far as it is to determine the desire of this thing, is founded
on the susceptibility of the subject, since it depends on the pre-
sence of an object; hence it belongs to sense (feeling), and not
to understanding, which expresses a relation of the idea to an
object according to concepts, not to the subject according to
feelings. It is then practical only in so far as the faculty of
desire is determined by the sensation of agreeableness which
the subject expects from the actual existence of the object.
Now, a rational being's consciousness of the pleasantness of
life uninterruptedly accompanying his whole existence is hap-
piness, and the principle which makes this the Supreme ground
[131] PTO RE PRACTICAL REASON. 109
of determination of the will is the principle of self-love. All
material principles, then, which place the determining ground
of the will in the pleasure or pain to be received from the
existence of any object are all of the same kind (130), inas-
much as they all belong to the principle of self-love or private
happiness.
COROLLARY.
All material practical rules place the determining principle
of the will in the lower desires, and if there were no purely formal
laws of the will adequate to determine it, then we could not
admit any higher desire at all.
REMAIR.K. I.
It is surprising that men, otherwise acute, can think it pos-
sible to distinguish between higher and lower desires, according
as the ideas which are connected with the feeling of pleasure
have their origin in the senses or in the understanding ; for
when we inquire what are the determining grounds of desire,
and place them in some expected pleasantness, it is of no con-
sequence whence the idea of this pleasing object is derived, but
only how much it pleases. Whether an idea has its seat and
Source in the understanding or not, if it can only determine
the choice by presupposing a feeling of pleasure in the subject,
it follows that its capability of determining the choice depends
altogether on the nature of the inner sense, namely, that this
can be agreeably affected by it. However dissimilar ideas of
objects may be, though they be ideas of the understanding, or
even of the reason in contrast to ideas of sense, yet the feeling
of pleasure, by means of which they constitute the determining
principle of the will (the expected satisfaction which impels the
activity to the production of the object) (131), is of one and the
same kind, not only inasmuch as it can be only known empiri-
cally, but also inasmuch as it affects one and the same vital
force which manifests itself in the faculty of desire, and in this
respect can only differ in degree from every other ground of
determination. Otherwise, how could we compare in respect of
110 THE ANALYTIC OF [132]
magnitude two principles of determination, the ideas of which
depend upon different faculties, so as to prefer that which affects
the faculty of desire in the highest degree. The same man may
return unread an instructive book which he cannot again obtain,
in order not to miss a hunt; he may depart in the midst of a
fine speech, in order not to be late for dinner; he may leave a
rational conversation, such as he otherwise values highly, to
take his place at the gaming-table; he may even repulse a
poor man whom he at other times takes pleasure in benefiting,
because he has only just enough money in his pocket to pay for
his admission to the theatre. If the determination of his will
rests on the feeling of the agreeableness or disagreeableness that
he expects from any cause, it is 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 con-
tinued, how easily obtained, and how often repeated, this agree-
ableness is. Just as to the man who wants money to spend, it
is all the same whether the gold was dug out of the mountain
or washed out of the sand, provided it is everywhere accepted
at the same value; so the man who cares only for the enjoy-
ment of life does not ask whether the ideas are of the under-
standing or the senses, but only how much and how great pleasure
they will give for the longest time. It is only those that would
gladly deny to pure reason the power of determining the will,
without the presupposition of any feeling, who could deviate so
far from their own exposition as to describe as quite hetero-
geneous what they have themselves previously brought under
one and the same principle (132). Thus, for example, it is ob-
served that we can find pleasure in the mere eaercise of power,
in the consciousness of our strength of mind in overcoming
obstacles which are opposed to our designs, in the culture of
our mental talents, etc.; and we justly call these more refined
pleasures and enjoyments, because they are more in our power
than others; they do not wear out, but rather increase the
capacity for further enjoyment of them, and while they delight
they at the same time cultivate. But to say on this account
that they determine the will in a different way, and not through
[133] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 111
sense, whereas the possibility of the pleasure presupposes a feel-
ing for it implanted in us, which is the first condition of this
satisfaction; this is just as when ignorant persons that like to
dabble in metaphysics imagine matter so subtle, so super-subtle,
that they almost make themselves giddy with it, and then think
that in this way they have conceived it as a spiritual and yet
extended being. If with Epicurus we make virtue determine
the will only by means of the pleasure it promises, we cannot
afterwards blame him for holding that this pleasure is of the
same kind as those of the coarsest senses. For we have no
reason whatever to charge him with holding that the ideas by
which this feeling is excited in us belong merely to the bodily
senses. As far as can be conjectured, he sought the source of
many of them in the use of the higher cognitive faculty; but .
this did not prevent him, and could not prevent him, from
holding on the principle above stated, that the pleasure itself
which those intellectual ideas give us, and by which alone
they can determine the will, is just of the same kind. Con-
sistency is the highest obligation of a philosopher, and yet the
most rarely found. The ancient Greek schools give us more
examples of it than we find in our syncretistic age, in which
a certain shallow and dishonest system of compromise of con-
tradictory principles is devised, because it commends itself
better to a public (133) which is content to know something of
everything and nothing thoroughly, so as to please every party.'
The principle of private happiness, however much under-
standing and reason may be used in it, cannot contain any
other determining principles for the will than those which
belong to the lower desires; and either there are no [higher]”
desires at all, or pure reason must of itself alone be practical:
that is, it must be able to determine the will by the mere form
of the practical rule without supposing any feeling, and conse-
quently without any idea of the pleasant or unpleasant, which
[* Literally, “to have a firm seat in any saddle.” It may be noted that
Kant's father was a saddler.].
[* Not in the original text.]
112 THE ANALYTIC OF [134]
is the matter of the desire, and which is always an empirical
condition of the principles. Then only, when reason of itself
determines the will (not as the servant of the inclination), it is
really a higher desire to which that which is pathologically de-
termined is subordinate, and is really, and even speciſically,
distinct from the latter, so that even the slightest admixture of
the motives of the latter impairs its strength and superiority;
just as in a mathematical demonstration the least empirical con-
dition would degrade and destroy its force and value. Reason,
with its practical law, determines the will immediately, not by
means of an intervening feeling of pleasure or pain, not even of
pleasure in the law itself, and it is only because it can, as pure
reason, be practical, that it is possible for it to be legislative.
REMARIEC II.
To be happy is necessarily the wish of every finite rational
being, and this, therefore, is inevitably a determining principle
of its faculty of desire. For we are not in possession originally
of satisfaction with our whole existence—a bliss which would
imply a consciousness of our own independent self-sufficiency—
this is a problem imposed upon us by our own finite nature,
because we have wants, and these wants regard (134) the matter
of our desires, that is, something that is relative to a subjective
feeling of pleasure or pain, which determines what we need in
order to be satisfied with our condition. But just because this
material principle of determination can only be empirically
known by the subject, it is impossible to regard this problem
as a law; for a law being objective must contain the very same
principle of determination of the will in all cases and for all
rational beings. For, although the notion of happiness is in
every case the foundation of the practical relation of the objects
to the desires, yet it is only a general name for the subjective
determining principles, and determines nothing specifically;
whereas this is what alone we are concerned with in this prac-
tical problem, which cannot be solved at all without such specific
determination. For it is every man’s own special feeling of
[185] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 113
pleasure and pain that decides in what he is to place his
happiness, and even in the same subject this will vary with
the difference of his wants according as this feeling changes,
and thus a law which is subjectively necessary (as a law of
nature) is objectively a very contingent practical principle, which
can and must be very different in different subjects, and there-
fore can never furnish a law ; since, in the desire for happiness
it is not the form of conformity to law that is decisive, but
simply the matter, namely, whether I am to expect pleasure in
following the law, and how much. Principles of self-love may,
indeed, contain universal precepts of skill (how to find means
to accomplish one’s purposes), but in that case they are merely
theoretical principles; as, for example, how he who would like
to eat bread (185) should contrive a mill; but practical precepts
founded on them can never be universal, for the determining
principle of the desire is based on the feeling of pleasure and
pain, which can never be supposed to be universally directed to
the same objects.
Even supposing, however, that all finite rational beings were
thoroughly agreed as to what were the objects of their feelings
of pleasure and pain, and also as to the means which they
must employ to attain the one and avoid the other; still, they
could by no means set up the principle of Self-love as a practical
law, for this unanimity itself would be only contingent. The
principle of determination would still be only subjectively valid
and merely empirical, and would not possess the necessity
which is conceived in every law, namely, an objective necessity
arising from d priori grounds; unless, indeed, we hold this
necessity to be not at all practical, but merely physical, viz.
that our action is as inevitably determined by our inclination,
as yawning when we see others yawn. It would be better
* Propositions which in mathematics or physics are called practical ought
properly to be called technical. For they have nothing to do with the de-
termination of the will; they only point out how a certain effect is to be
produced, and are therefore just as theoretical as any propositions which
express the connexion of a cause with an effect. Now whoever chooses the
effect must also choose the cause.
I
114 THE ANALYTIC OF [136]
to maintain that there are no practical laws at all, but only
counsels for the service of our desires, than to raise merely
subjective principles to the rank of practical laws, which have
objective necessity, and not merely subjective, and which must
be known by reason d priori, not by experience (however
empirically universal this may be). Even the rules of corres-
ponding phenomena are only called laws of nature (e. g. the
mechanical laws), when we either know them really d priori,
or (as in the case of chemical laws) suppose that they would
be known d priori from objective grounds if our insight reached
further. But in the case of merely subjective practical prin-
ciples, it is expressly made a condition (136) that they rest
not on objective but on subjective conditions of choice, and
hence that they must always be represented as mere maxims;
never as practical laws. This second remark seems at first sight
to be mere verbal refinement, but it defines' the terms of the
most important distinction which can come into consideration in
practical investigations.
§ IV.—THEOREM III.
A rational being cannot regard his maxims as practical
universal laws, unless he conceives them as principles which
determine the will, not by their matter, but by their form
only.
By the matter of a practical principle I mean the object of
the will. This object is either the determining ground of the
will or it is not. In the former case the rule of the will is sub-
jected to an empirical condition (viz. the relation of the deter-
mining idea to the feeling of pleasure and pain), consequently
it cannot be a practical law. Now, when we abstract from a
law all matter, i. e. every object of the will (as a determining
principle), nothing is left but the mere form of a universal
legislation. Therefore, either a rational being cannot conceive
his subjective practical principles, that is, his maxims, as being
"[The original sentence is defective; Hartenstein supplies ‘enthält.’]
[138] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 115
at the same time universal laws, or he must suppose that their
mere form, by which they are fitted for universal legislation, is
alone what makes them practical laws.
(137) REMARK.
The commonest understanding can distinguish without in-
struction what form of maxim is adapted for universal legisla-
tion, and what is not. Suppose, for example, that I have made
it my maxim to increase my fortune by every safe means. Now,
I have a deposit in my hands, the owner of which is dead and
has left no writing about it. This is just the case for my
maxim. I desire then to know whether that maxim can also
hold good as a universal practical law. I apply it, therefore,
to the present case, and ask whether it could take the form of a
law, and consequently whether I can by my maxim at the same
time give such a law as this, that everyone may deny a deposit
of which no one can produce a proof. I at Once become aware
that such a principle, viewed as a law, would annihilate itself, …
because the result would be that there would be no deposits. A
practical law which I recognize as such must be qualified for
universal legislation; this is an identical proposition, and there-
fore self-evident. Now, if I say that my will is subject to
a practical law, I cannot adduce my inclination (e. g. in the
present case my avarice) as a principle of determination fitted
to be a universal practical law; for this is so far from being
fitted for a universal legislation that, if put in the form of a
universal law, it would destroy itself.
It is, therefore, surprising that intelligent men could have
thought of calling the desire of happiness a universal practical
Jaw on the ground that the desire is universal, and, therefore,
also the maa'im by which everyone makes this desire determine
his will. For whereas in other cases a universal law of nature
makes everything harmonious; here, on the contrary, if we
attribute to the maxim the universality of a law, the extreme
opposite of harmony will follow, the greatest opposition, and
the complete (138) destruction of the maxim itself, and its
I 2
116 THE ANALYTIC OF [139]
purpose. For, in that case, the will of all has not one and the
same object, but everyone has his own (his private welfare),
which may accidentally accord with the purposes of others
which are equally selfish, but it is far from sufficing for a law;
because the occasional exceptions which one is permitted to
make are endless, and cannot be definitely embraced in one
universal rule. In this manner, then, results a harmony like
that which a certain satirical poem depicts as existing between
a married couple bent on going to ruin, “O, marvellous har-
mony, what he wishes, she wishes also ;” or like 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 uni-
versal external legislation, but just as little for internal; for
each man makes his own subject the foundation of his inclina-
tion, and in the same subject sometimes one inclination, some-
times another, has the preponderance. To discover a law which
would govern them all under this condition, namely, bringing
them all into harmony, is quite impossible.
§ W. —PROBLEM I.
Supposing that the mere legislative form of maxims is alone
the sufficient determining principle of a will, to find the nature
of the will which can be determined by it alone.
Since the bare form of the law can only be conceived by
reason, and is, therefore, not an object of the senses, and conse-
quently does not belong to the class of phenomena, it follows
that the idea of it (139), which determines the will, is distinct
from all the principles that determine events in nature accord-
ing to the law of causality, because in their case the determining
principles must themselves be phenomena. Now, if no other
determining principle can serve as a law for the will except
that universal legislative form, such a will must be conceived
as quite independent on the natural law of phenomena in their
mutual relation, namely, the law of causality; such indepen-
dence is called freedom in the strictest, that is in the transcen-
[140] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 117
A
dental sense ; consequently, a will which can have its law in
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 is
competent to determine it necessarily.
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 is independent on empirical conditions, (that is, condi-
tions belonging to the world of sense) and yet is determinable,
consequently a free will must find its principle of determination
in the law, and yet independently of the matter of the law.
But, besides the matter of the law, nothing is contained in it
except the legislative form. It is the legislative form, then,
contained in the maxim, which can alone constitute a principle
of determination of the [free will.
(140) REMARK.
Thus freedom and an unconditional practical law recipro-
cally imply each other. Now I do not ask here whether they
are in fact distinct, or whether an unconditioned law is not
rather merely the consciousness of a pure practical reason, and
the latter identical with the positive concept of freedom ; I only
ask, whence begins our knowledge of the unconditionally practi-
cal, whether it is from freedom or from the practical law? Now
it cannot begin from freedom, for of this we cannot be imme-
diately conscious, since the first concept of it is negative; nor
can we infer it from experience, for experience gives us the
knowledge only of the law of phenomena, and hence of the
mechanism of nature, the direct opposite of freedom. It is
therefore the moral law, of which we become directly conscious
(as soon as we trace for ourselves maxims of the will), that first
presents itself to us, and leads directly to the concept of freedom,
inasmuch as reason presents it as a principle of determination
118 THE ANALYTIC OF [141]
not to be outweighed by any sensible conditions, nay, wholly
independent of them. But how is the consciousness of that
moral law possible? We can become conscious of pure prac-
tical laws just as we are conscious of pure theoretical principles,
by attending to the necessity with which reason prescribes
them, and to the elimination of all empirical conditions, which
it directs. The concept of a pure will arises out of the former,
as that of a pure understanding arises out of the latter. That
this is the true subordination of our concepts, and that it is
morality that first discovers to us the notion of freedom, hence
that it is practical reason which, with this concept, first proposes
to speculative reason the most insoluble problem, thereby placing
it in the greatest perplexity, is evident from the following con-
sideration:—Since nothing in phenomena can be explained by
the concept of freedom, but the mechanism of nature must
constitute the only clue (141); moreover, when pure reason tries
to ascend in the series of causes to the unconditioned, it falls
into an antinomy which is entangled in incomprehensibilities on
the One side as much as the other; whilst the latter (namely,
mechanism) is at least useful in the explanation of phenomena,
therefore no one would ever have been so rash as to introduce
freedom into science, had not the moral law, and with it prac-
tical reason, come in and forced this notion upon us. Experi-
ence, however, confirms this order of notions. Suppose some one
asserts of his lustful appetite that, when the desired object and
the opportunity are present, it is quite irresistible. [Ask him]—
if a gallows were erected before the house where he finds this
opportunity, in order that he should be hanged thereon imme-
diately after the gratification of his lust, whether he could not
then control his passion; we need not be long in doubt what he
would reply. Ask him, however—if his sovereign ordered him,
on pain of the same immediate execution, to bear false witness
against an honourable man, whom the prince might wish to
destroy under a plausible pretext, would he consider it possible
in that case to overcome his love of life, however great it may
be. He would perhaps not venture to affirm whether he would
do so or not, but he must unhesitatingly admit that it is pos-
| 142] IPUIRE PRACTICAL REASON. 119
sible to do so. He judges, therefore, that he can do a certain
thing because he is conscious that he ought, and he recognizes
that he is free, a fact which but for the moral law he would
never have known.
§ VII. —FUNDAMENTAL LAw of THE PURE PRACTICAL
REASON.
Act so that the maxim of thy will can always at the same
time hold good as a principle of universal legislation.
(142) REMARK.
Pure geometry has postulates which are practical proposi-
tions, but contain nothing further than the assumption that we
can do something if it is required that we should do it, and these
are the only geometrical propositions that concern actual exist-
ence. They are, then, practical rules under a problematical
condition of the will; but here the rule says:–We absolutely
must proceed in a certain manner. The practical rule is, there-
fore, unconditional, and hence it is conceived d priori as a
categorically practical proposition by which the will is objec-
tively determined absolutely and immediately (by the practical
rule itself, which thus is in this case a law); for pure reason
practical of itself is here directly legislative. The will is thought
as independent on empirical conditions, and, therefore, as pure
will determined by the mere form of the law, and this principle
of determination is regarded as the Supreme condition of all
maxims. The thing is strange enough, and has no parallel
in all the rest of our practical knowledge. For the d priori
thought of a possible universal legislation which is therefore
merely problematical, is unconditionally commanded as a law
without borrowing anything from experience or from any ex-
ternal will. This, however, is not a precept to do something
by which some desired effect can be attained (for then the will
would depend on physical conditions), but a rule that deter-
mines the will d priori only so far as regards the forms of its
maxims; and thus it is at least not impossible to conceive that
120 THE ANALYTIC OF [143]
a law, which only applies to the subjective form of principles,
yet serves as a principle of determination by means of the
objective form of law in general. We may call the conscious-
ness of this fundamental law a fact of reason, because we
Cannot reason it out from antecedent data of reason, e.g. the
consciousness of freedom (for this is not antecedently given),
but it forces itself on us as a synthetic d priori proposition (143),
which is not based on any intuition, either pure or empirical.
It would, indeed, be analytical if the freedom of the will were
presupposed, but to presuppose freedom as a positive concept
would require an intellectual intuition, which cannot here be
assumed; however, when we regard this law as given, it must be
observed, in order not to fall into any misconception that it is
not an empirical fact, but the sole fact of the pure reason,
which thereby announces itself as originally legislative (sic volo,
Sic ſubeo).
COROLLARY.
Pure reason is practical of itself alone, and gives (to man) a
universal law which we call the Moral Law.
FEMARK.
The fact just mentioned is undeniable. It is only necessary
to analyse the judgment that men pass on the lawfulness of
their actions, in order to find that, whatever inclination may
say to the contrary, reason, incorruptible and self-constrained,
always confronts the maxim of the will in any action with the
pure will, that is, with itself, considering itself as d priori prac-
tical. Now this principle of morality, just on account of the
universality of the legislation which makes it the formal
Supreme determining principle of the will, without regard to
any subjective differences, is declared by the reason to be a
law for all rational beings, in so far as they have a will, that is,
a power to determine their causality by the conception of
rules; and, therefore, so far as they are capable of acting
according to principles, and consequently also according to
{144] PlU RE PRACTICAL REASON. 121
practical d priori principles (for these alone have the necessity
that reason requires in a principle). It is, therefore, not limited
to men only, but applies to all finite beings that possess reason
and will (144); nay, it even includes the Infinite Being as the
supreme intelligence. In the former case, however, the law
has the form of an imperative, because in them, as rational
beings, we can suppose a pure will, but being creatures affected
with wants and physical motives, not a holy will, that is, one
which would be incapable of any maxim conflicting with the
moral law. In their case, therefore, the moral law is an im-
perative, which commands categorically, because the law is un-
conditioned; the relation of such a will to this law is dependence
under the name of obligation, which implies a constraint to an
action, though only by reason and its objective law; and this
action is called duty, because an elective will, subject to patholo-
gical affections (though not determined by them, and therefore
still free), implies a wish that arises from subjective causes, and
therefore may often be opposed to the pure objective deter-
mining principle; whence it requires the moral constraint of a
resistance of the practical reason, which may be called an inter-
nal, but intellectual compulsion. In the supreme intelligence
the elective will is rightly conceived as incapable of any maxim
which could not at the same time be objectively a law; and the
notion of holiness, which on that account belongs to it, places it,
not indeed above all practical laws, but above all pratically re-
strictive laws, and consequently above obligation and duty. This
holiness of will is, however, a practical idea, which must neces-
Sarily serve as a type to which finite rational beings can only
approximate indefinitely, and which the pure moral law, which is
itself on this account called holy, constantly and rightly holds
before their eyes. The utmost that finite practical reason can
effect is to be certain of this indefinite progress of one's maxims,
and of their steady disposition to advance. This is virtue, and
virtue, at least as a naturally acquired faculty, can never be per-
fect, because assurance in such a case never becomes apodictic
certainty, and when it only amounts to persuasion is very
dangerous.
122 THE AN AI.YTIC OF [146]
(145) $ VIII.--THEOREM IV.
The autonomy of the will is the sole principle of all moral
laws, and of all duties which conform to them ; on the other
hand, heteronomy of the elective will not only cannot be the
basis of any obligation, but is, on the contrary, opposed to the
principle thereof, and to the morality of the will.
In fact the sole principle of morality consists in the inde-
pendence on all matter of the law (namely, a desired object), and
in the determination of the elective will by the mere universal
legislative form of which its maxim must be capable. Now
this independence is freedom in the negative sense, and this self-
legislation of the pure, and, therefore, practical reason, is
freedom in the positive sense. Thus the moral law expresses
nothing else than the autonomy of the pure practical reason;
that is, freedom ; and this is itself the formal condition of all
maxims, and on this condition only can they agree with the
Supreme practical law. If therefore the matter of the volition,
which can be nothing else than the object of a desire that is con-
nected with the law, enters into the practical law, as the condition
of its possibility, there results heteronomy of the elective will,
namely, dependence on the physical law that we should follow
Some impulse or inclination. In that case the will does not
give itself the law, but only the precept how rationally to follow
pathological law; and the maxim which, in such a case, never
contains the universally legislative form, not only produces no
obligation, but is itself opposed to the principle of a pure
practical reason, and, therefore, also to the moral disposi-
tion, even though the resulting action may be conformable to
the law.
(146) REMARK I.
Hence a practical precept, which contains a material (and
therefore empirical) condition, must never be reckoned a prac-
tical law. For the law of the pure will, which is free, brings
the will into a sphere quite different from the empirical; and as
the necessity involved in the law is not a physical necessity, it
[147] PTURE PRACTICAL REASON. 123
can only consist in the formal conditions of the possibility of a
law in general. All the matter of practical rules rests on sub-
jective conditions, which give them only a conditional univer-
sality (in case I desire this or that, what I must do in order to
obtain it), and they all turn on the principle of private happiness.
Now, it is indeed undeniable that every volition must have an
object, and therefore a matter; but it does not follow that this
is the determining principle, and the condition of the maxim ;
for, if it is so, then this cannot be exhibited in a universally
legislative form, since in that case the expectation of the ex-
istence of the object would be the determining cause of the
choice, and the volition must presuppose the dependence of the
faculty of desire on the existence of something; but this de-
pendence can only be sought in empirical conditions, and there-
fore can never furnish a foundation for a necessary and universal
rule. Thus, the happiness of others may be the object of the
will of a rational being. But if it were the determining prin-
ciple of the maxim, we must assume that we find not only a
rational satisfaction in the welfare of others, but also a want
such as the sympathetic disposition in some men occasions. But
I cannot assume the existence 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 the condition of it, else the maxim could
not be fit for a law. Hence, the mere form of law, which limits
the matter, must also be a reason (147) for adding this matter to
the will, not for presupposing it. For example, let the matter
be my own happiness. This (rule), if I attribute it to everyone
(as, in fact, I may, in the case of every finite being), can become
an objective practical law only if I include the happiness of
others. Therefore, the law that we should promote the happi-
ness of others does not arise from the assumption that this is an
object of everyone’s choice, but merely from this, that the form
of universality which reason requires as the condition of giving
to a maxim of self-love the objective validity of a law, is the
principle that determines the will. Therefore it was not the
object (the happiness of others) that determined the pure will,
but it was the form of law only, by which I restricted my
124 THE ANALYTIC OF [148]
maxim, founded on inclination, so as to give it the universality
of a law, and thus to adapt it to the practical reason ; , and it is
this restriction alone, and not the adddition of an external spring,
that can give rise to the notion of the obligation to extend the
maxim of my self-love to the happiness of others.
IREMARES II.
The direct opposite of the principle of morality is, when the
principle of private happiness is made the determining principle
of the will, and with this is to be reckoned, as I have shown
above, everything that places the determining principle which is
to serve as a law anywhere but in the legislative form of the
maxim. This contradiction, however, is not merely logical, like
that which would arise between rules empirically conditioned,
if they were raised to the rank of necessary principles of cogni-
tion, but is practical, and would ruin morality altogether were
not the voice of reason in reference to the will so clear, so irre-
pressible, so distinctly audible even, to the commonest men. It
can only, indeed, be maintained in the perplexing (148) specula-
tions of the schools, which are bold enough to shut their ears
against that heavenly voice, in order to support a theory that
costs no trouble. -
Suppose that an acquaintance whom you otherwise liked
were to attempt to justify himself to you for having borne false
witness, first by alleging the, in his view, sacred duty of con-
sulting his own happiness; then by enumerating the advan-
tages which he had gained thereby, pointing out the prudence
he had shown in securing himself against detection, even by
yourself, to whom he now reveals the secret, only in order that
he may be able to deny it at any time; and suppose he were
then to affirm, in all seriousness, that he has fulfilled a true
human duty; you would either laugh in his face, or shrink
back from him with disgust ; and yet, if a man has regulated
his principles of action solely with a view to his own advan-
tage, you would have nothing whatever to object against this
mode of proceeding. Or suppose some one recommends you a
[149] PUIRE PRACTICAL REASON. 125.
man as steward, as a man to whom you can blindly trust all
your affairs; and, in order to inspire you with confidence,
extols him as a prudent man who thoroughly understands his
own interest, and is so indefatigably active 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 pleasure in money-making,
or in coarse wantonness, but in the enlargement of his know-
ledge, in instructive intercourse with a select circle, and even in
relieving the needy; while as to the means (which, of course,
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 were
his own, provided only he knows that he can do so safely, and
without discovery; you would either believe that the recom-
mender was mocking you, or that he had lost his senses. So
sharply and clearly marked are the boundaries of morality and
self-love that even the commonest eye (149) cannot fail to dis-
tinguish whether a thing belongs to the one or the other. The
few remarks that follow may appear superfluous where the truth
is so plain, but at least they may serve to give a little more dis-
tinctness to the judgment of common sense.
The principle of happiness may, indeed, furnish maxims,
but never such as would be competent to be laws of the will,
even if universal happiness were made the object. For since
the knowledge of this rests on mere empirical data, since every
man’s judgment on it depends very much on his particular
point of view, which is itself moreover very variable, it can
supply only general rules, not universal; that is, it can give
rules which on the average will most frequently fit, but not
rules which must hold good always and necessarily ; hence, no
practical laws can be founded on it. Just because in this case
an object of choice is the foundation of the rule, and must
therefore precede it; the rule can refer to nothing but what is
[felt]', and therefore it refers to experience and is founded on
it, and then the variety of judgment must be endless. This
* [Reading “empfindet” instead of “empfiehlt.”]
126 THE AN AI.YTIC OF [150]
principle, therefore, does not prescribe the same practical rules
to all rational beings, although the rules are all included under
a common title, namely, that of happiness. The moral law,
however, is conceived as objectively necessary, only because it
holds for everyone that has reason and will.
The maxim of self-love (prudence) only advises; the law of
morality commands. Now there is a great difference between
that which we are advised to do and that to which we are
obliged.
The commonest intelligence can easily and without hesita-
tion see what, on the principle of autonomy of the will, requires
to be done; but on supposition of heteronomy of the will, it is
hard and requires knowledge of the world to see what is to be
done. That is to say, what duty is, is plain of itself to every-
one; but what is to bring true durable advantage, such as will
extend to the whole of one’s existence (150), is always veiled
in impenetrable obscurity; and much prudence is required to
adapt the practical rule founded on it to the ends of life, even
tolerably, by making proper exceptions. But the moral 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 worldly prudence, should fail to apply it rightly.
It is always in everyone's power to satisfy the categorical
command of morality; whereas it is but seldom possible, and
by no means so to everyone, to satisfy the empirically con-
ditioned precept of happiness, even with regard to a single
purpose. The reason is, that in the former case there is ques-
tion only of the maxim, which must be genuine and pure; but
in the latter case there is question also of one’s capacity and
physical power to realise a desired object. A command that
everyone should try to make himself happy would be foolish,
for one never commands anyone to do what he of himself in-
fallibly wishes to do. We must only command the means, or
rather supply them, since he cannot do everything that he
wishes. But to command morality under the name of duty
is quite rational; for, in the first place, not everyone is willing
[151] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 127
to obey its precepts if they oppose his inclinations; and as to
the means of obeying this law, these need not in this case be
taught, for in this respect whatever he wishes to do he can do.
Iſe who has lost at play may be vewed at himself and his
folly, but if he is conscious of having cheated at play (although
he has gained thereby), he must despise himself as soon as he
compares himself with the moral law. This must, therefore, be
something different from the principle of private happiness.
For a man must have a different criterion when he is com-
pelled to say to himself: I am a worthless fellow, though I
have filled my purse; and when he approves himself (151), and
says: I am a prudent man, for I have enriched my treasure.
Finally, there is something further in the idea of our prac-
tical reason, which accompanies the transgression of a moral
law—namely, its ill desert. Now the notion of punishment,
as such, cannot be united with that of becoming a partaker
of happiness; for although he who inflicts the punishment may
at the same time have the benevolent purpose of directing this
punishment to this end, yet it must first be justified in itself as
punishment, i. e. as mere harm, so that if it stopped there, and
the person punished could get no glimpse of kindness hidden
behind this harshness, he must yet admit that justice was done
him, and that his reward was perfectly suitable to his conduct.
In every punishment, as such, there must first be justice, and
this constitutes the essence of the notion. Denevolence may,
indeed, be united with it, but the man who has deserved punish-
ment has not the least reason to reckon upon this. Punish-
ment, then, is a physical evil, which, though it be not connected
with moral evil as a natural consequence, ought to be connected
with it as a consequence by the principles of a moral legislation.
Now, if every crime, even without regarding the physical con-
sequence with respect to the actor, is in itself punishable, that
is, forfeits happiness (at least partially), it is obviously absurd
to say that the crime consisted just in this, that he has drawn
punishment on himself, thereby injuring his private happiness
(which, on the principle of self-love, must be the proper notion
of all crime). According to this view the punishment would
128 THE ANALYTIC OF [152]
be the reason for calling anything a crime, and justice would,
on the contrary, consist in omitting all punishment, and even
preventing that which naturally follows; for, if this were done,
there would no longer be any evil in the action, since the harm
which otherwise followed it, and on account of which alone the
action was called evil, would now be prevented. To look, how-
ever, on all rewards and punishments as merely the machinery
in the hand (152) of a higher power, which is to serve only to set
rational creatures striving after their final end (happiness), this
is to reduce the will to a mechanism destructive of freedom ;
this is so evident that it need not detain us.
More refined, though equally false, is the theory of those
who suppose a certain special moral sense, which sense and not
reason determines the moral law, and in consequence of which
the consciousness of virtue is supposed to be directly connected
with contentment and pleasure; that of vice, with mental dis-
satisfaction and pain; thus reducing the whole to the desire of
private happiness. Without repeating what has been said
above, I will here only remark the fallacy they fall into. In
order to imagine the vicious man as tormented with mental
dissatisfaction by the consciousness of his transgressions, they
must first represent him as in the main basis of his character,
at least in some degree, morally good; just as he who is pleased
with the consciousness of right conduct must be conceived as
already virtuous. The notion of morality and duty must,
therefore, have preceded any regard to this satisfaction, and
cannot be derived from it. A man must first appreciate the
importance of what we call duty, the authority of the moral
law, and the immediate dignity which the following of it gives
to the person in his own eyes, in order to feel that satisfaction
in the consciousness of his conformity to it, and the bitter
remorse that accompanies the consciousness of its transgression.
It is, therefore, impossible to feel this satisfaction or dissatisfac-
tion prior to the knowledge of obligation, or to make it the
basis of the latter. A man must be at least half honest in
order even to be able to form a conception of these feelings. I
do not deny that as the human will is, by virtue of liberty
[155] Plj RE PRACTICAL REASON. 129
capable of being immediately determined by the moral law, so
frequent practice in accordance with this principle of determi-
nation can, at last, produce subjectively a feeling of satisfac-
tion (153); on the contrary, it is a duty to establish and to
cultivate this, which alone deserves to be called properly the
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 thus make that an object of sensation which can only be
thought by the reason; and this, if it is not to be a flat contra-
diction, would destroy all notion of duty, and put in its place
a mere mechanical play of refined inclinations sometimes con-
tending with the coarser.
If now we compare our formal supreme principle of pure
practical reason (that of autonomy of the will) with all previous
material principles or morality, we can exhibit them all in a
table in which all possible cases are exhausted, except the one
formal principle; and thus we can show visibly that it is vain
to look for any other principle than that now proposed. In
fact all possible principles of determination of the will are either
merely subjective, and therefore empirical, or are also objective
and rational; and both are either eaternal or internal.
(154) Practical Material Principles of Determination taken as
the Foundation of Morality, are :-
SUBJECTIVE. OBJECTIVE.
EXTERNAL. INTERNAL, INTERNAL. EXTERNAL.
Education. Physical feeling. Perfection. Will of God.
(Montaigne). (Epicurus). (Wolf and the (Crusius and other
The civil Consti- Moral feeling. Stoics). theological Moral-
tution (Hutcheson). ists).
(Mandeville).
(155) Those at the left hand are all empirical, and evidently
incapable of furnishing the universal principle of morality; but
those on the right hand are based on reason (for perfection as a
quality of things, and the highest perfection conceived as sub-
stance, that is, God, can only be thought by means of rational
concepts). But the former notion, namely, that of perfection,
FC
130 THE ANALYTIC OF [156]
may either be taken in a theoretic signification, and then it
means nothing but the completeness of each thing in its own
kind (transcendental), or that of a thing, merely as a thing
(metaphysical); and with that we are not concerned here. But
the notion of perfection in a practical sense is the fitness or suf-
ficiency of a thing for all sorts of purposes. This perfection, as
a quality of man, and consequently internal, is nothing but
talent, and, what strengthens or completes this, skill. Supreme
perfection conceived as substance, that is God, and consequently
external (considered practically), is the sufficiency of this being
for all ends. Ends then must first be given, relatively to which
only can the notion of perfection (whether internal in ourselves
or external in God) be the determining principle of the will.
But an end—being an object which must precede the determina-
tion of the will by a practical rule, and contain the ground of
the possibility of this determination, and therefore contain also
the matter of the will, taken as its determining principle—such
an end is always empirical, and, therefore, may serve for the
Epicurean principle of the happiness theory, but not for the
pure rational principle of morality and duty. Thus, talents
and the improvement of them, because they contribute to the
advantages of life; or the will of God, if agreement with it be
taken as the object of the will, without any antecedent inde-
pendent practical principle, can be motives only by reason of
the happiness expected thcrofrom. Hence it follows, first, that
all the principles here stated are material; Secondly, that they
include all possible material principles (156); and, finally, the
conclusion, that since material principles are quite incapable of
furnishing the Supreme moral law (as has been shown), the
formal practical principle of the pure reason (according to which
the mere form of a universal legislation must constitute the
supreme and immediate determining principle of the will) is
the only one possible which is adequate to furnish categorical im-
peratives; that is, practical laws (which make actions a duty);
and in general to serve as the principle of morality, both in
criticising conduct and also in its application to the human will
to determine it.
{157] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 131
I.—Of the Deduction of the Fundamental Principles of the Pure
Practical Reason.
This Analytic shows that pure reason can be practical, that
is, can of itself determine the will independently of anything
empirical; and this it proves by a fact in which pure reason in
us proves itself actually practical, namely, the autonomy shown
in the fundamental principle of morality, by which reason de-
termines the will to action.
It shows at the same time that this fact is inseparably con-
nected with the consciousness of freedom of the will; nay,
is identical with it; and by this the will of a rational being,
although as belonging to the world of sense, it recognises itself
as necessarily subject to the laws of causality like other efficient
causes; yet, at the same time, on another side, namely, as a
being in itself, is conscious of existing in and being determined
by an intelligible order of things; conscious not (157) by virtue
of a specal intuition of itself, but by virtue of certain dynami-
cal laws which determine its causality in the sensible world;
for it has been elsewhere proved that if freedom is predicated
of us, it transports us into an intelligible order of things.
Now, if we compare with this the analytical part of the
critique of pure speculative reason, we shall see a remarkable
contrast. There it was not fundamental principles, but pure,
sensible intuition (space and time), that was the first datum that
made d priori knowledge possible, though only of objects of the
senses. Synthetical principles could not be derived from mere
concepts without intuition ; on the contrary, they could only
exist with reference to this intuition, and therefore to objects
of possible experience, since it is the concepts of the under-
standing, united with this intuition, which alone make that
knowledge possible which we call experience. Beyond objects
of experience, and therefore with regard to things as noumena,
all positive knowledge was rightly disclaimed for speculative
reason. This reason, however, went so far as to establish with
certainty the concept of noumena; that is, the possibility, nay
FC 2
132 THE ANALYTIC OF [158]
the necessity, of thinking them; for example, it showed against
all objections that the Supposition of freedom, negatively con-
sidered, was quite consistent with those principles and limita-
tions of pure theoretic reason. But it could not give us any
definite enlargement of our knowledge with respect to such
objects, but, on the contrary, cut off all view of them alto-
gether.
On the other hand, the moral law, although it gives no
view, yet gives us a fact absolutely inexplicable from any data
of the sonsible world, and the whole compass of our theoretical
use of reason, a fact which points to a pure world of the under-
standing (158), nay, even defines it positively, and enables us to
know something of it, namely, a law. -
This law (as far as rational beings are concerned) gives to
the world of sense, which is a sensible system of nature, the
form of a world of the understanding, that is, of a supersen-
sible system of nature, without interfering with its mechanism.
Now, a system of nature, in the most general sense, is the
existence of things under laws. The sensible nature of rational
beings in general is their existence under laws empirically con-
ditioned, which, from the point of view of reason, is heteronomy.
The supersensible nature of the same beings, on the other hand,
is their existence according to laws which are independent on
every empirical condition, and therefore belong to the autonomy
of pure reason. And, since the laws by which the existence of
things depends on cognition are practical, Supersensible nature,
so far as we can form any notion of it, is nothing else than a
system of nature under the autonomy of pure practical reason.
Now, the law of this autonomy is the moral law, which, there-
fore, is the fundamental law of a supersensible nature, and of
a pure world of understanding, whose counterpart must exist
in the world of sense, but without interfering with its laws.
We might call the former the archetypal world (natura arche-
typa), which we only know in the reason; and the latter the
eetypal world (natura ectºpa), because it contains the possible
effect of the idea of the former which is the determining
principle of the will. For the moral law, in fact, transfers
[159] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 133
us ideally into a system in which pure reason, if it were
accompanied with adequate physical power, would produce
the summum bonum, and it determines our will to give the
sensible world the form of a system of rational beings."
The least attention to oneself proves that this idea really
serves as the model for the determinations of our will.
(159). When the maxim which I am disposed to follow in
giving testimony is tested by the practical reason, I always
consider what it would be if it were to hold as a universal law
of nature. It is manifest that in this view it would oblige
everyone to speak the truth. For it cannot hold as a universal
law of nature that statements should be allowed to have the
force of proof, and yet to be purposely untrue. Similarly, the
maxim which I adopt with respect to disposing freely of my
life is at once determined, when I ask myself what it should
be, in order that a system, of which it is the law, should main-
tain itself. It is obvious that in such a system no one could
arbitrarily put an end to his own life, for such an arrangement
would 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 free will is not of itself determined to maxims
which could of themselves be the foundation of a natural system
of universal laws, or which could even be adapted to a system
so constituted; on the contrary, its maxims are private inclina-
tions which constitute, indeed, a natural whole in conformity
with pathological (physical) laws, but could not form part of a
system of nature, which would only be possible through our
will acting in accordance with pure practical laws. Yet we
are, through reason, conscious of a law to which all our maxims
are subject, as though a natural order must be originated from
our will. This law, therefore, must be the idea of a natural
System not given in experience, and yet possible through free-
dom; a system, therefore, which is supersensible, and to which
we give objective reality, at least in a practical point of view,
since we look on it as an object of our will as pure rational beings.
"[The original text is, I think, corrupt.]
134 THE ANALYTIC OF [161]
Hence the distinction between the laws of a natural system
to which the will is subject, and of a natural system which is
subject to a will (as far as its relation to its free actions is con-
cerned) (160) rests on this, that in the former the objects must
be causes of the ideas which determine the will; whereas in
the latter the will is the cause of the objects; so that its causa-
lity has its determining principle solely in the pure faculty of
reason, which may therefore be called a pure practical reason.
There are therefore two very distinct problems: how, on the
one side, pure reason can cognise objects d priori, and how on
the other side it can be an immediate determining principle of
the will, that is, of the causality of the rational being with
respect to the reality of objects (through the mere thought of
the universal validity of its own maxims as laws). -
The former, which belongs to the critique of the pure
speculative reason, requires a previous explanation, how intui-
tions, without which no object can be given, and, therefore,
none known synthetically, are possible d priori; and its solu-
tion turns out to be that these are all only sensible, and
therefore do not render possible any speculative knowledge
which goes further than possible experience reaches; and that
therefore all the principles of that pure speculative' reason avail
only to make experience possible ; either experience of given
objects or of those that may be given ad infinitum, 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
are possible, for that being a problem of the theoretical know-
ledge of nature, is left to the critique of the speculative reason,
but only how reason can determine the maxims of the will ;
whether this takes place only by means of empirical ideas as
principles of determination, or whether pure reason can be
practical and be the law of a possible order of nature, which
is not empirically knowable (161). The possibility of such a
SuperSensible system of nature, the conception of which can
"[The original text has “practical,” obviously an error.]
[162] PTURE PRACTICAL REASON. 135
also be the ground of its reality through our own free will,
does not require any d priori intuition (of an intelligible world)
which, being in this case supersensible, would be impossible for
us. For the question is only as to the determining principle
of volition in its maxims, namely, whether it is empirical, or is
a conception of the pure reason (having the legal character
belonging to it in general), and how it can be the latter. It
is left to the theoretic principles of reason to decide whether
the causality of the will suffices for the realization of the objects
or not, this being an inquiry into the possibility of the objects
of the volition. Intuition of these objects is therefore of no
importance to the practical problem. We are here concerned
only with the determination of the will and the determining
principles of its maxims as a free will, not at all with the result.
For, provided only that the will conforms to the law of pure
reason, then let its power in execution be what it may, whether
according to these maxims of legislation of a possible system
of nature any such system really results or not, this is no con-
cern of the critique, which only inquires whether, and in what
way, pure reason can be practical, that is, directly determine
the will.
In this inquiry criticism may and must begin with pure
practical laws and their reality. But instead of intuition it
takes as their foundation the conception of their existence in
the intelligible world, namely, the concept of freedom. For
this concept has no other meaning, and these laws are only
possible in relation to freedom of the will; but freedom being
Supposed, they are necessary; or conversely, freedom is neces-
sary because those laws are necessary, being practical postu-
lates. It cannot be further explained how this consciousness
of the moral law, or, what is the same thing, of freedom, is
possible; but that it is admissible is well established in the
theoretical critique. -
(162) The Exposition of the supreme principle of practical
reason is now finished; that is to say, it has been shown first,
what it contains, that it subsists for itself quite d priori and
independent on empirical principles; and next, in what it is
136 THE ANALYTIC OF [163]
distinguished from all other practical principles. With the
deduction, that is, the justification of its objective and univer-
Sal validity, and the discernment of the possibility of such a
synthetical proposition d priori, we cannot expect to succeed
So well as in the case of the principles of pure theoretical
reason. For these referred to objects of possible experience,
namely, to phenomena, and we could prove that these pheno-
mena could be known as objects of experience only by being
brought under the categories in accordance with these laws;
and consequently that all possible experience must conform to
these laws. But I could not proceed in this way with the
deduction of the moral law. For this does not concern the
knowledge of the properties of 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 the objects, and
by which reason in a rational being has causality, i. e. pure
reason, which can be regarded as a faculty immediately deter-
mining the will.
Now all our human insight is at an end as soon as we have
arrived at fundamental powers or faculties, for the possibility
of these cannot be understood by any means, and just as little
should it be arbitrarily invented and assumed. Therefore, in
the theoretic use of reason, it is experience alone that can
justify us in assuming them. But this expedient of adducing
empirical proofs, instead of a deduction from d priori sources of
knowledge, is denied us here in respect to the pure practical
faculty of reason (163). For whatever requires to draw the
proof of its reality from experience must depend for the
grounds 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 we are d priori conscious, and which is apodictically
certain, though it be granted that in experience no example of
its exact fulfilment can be found. Hence, the objective reality
of the moral law cannot be proved by any deduction by any
efforts of theoretical reason, whether speculative or empirically
supported, and therefore, even if we renounced its apodictic
[164] PUIRE PRACTICAL REASON. 137
certainty, it could not be proved d posteriori by experience, and
yet it is firmly established of itself.
IBut instead of this vainly sought deduction of the moral -
principle, something else is found which was quite unexpected,
namely, that this moral principle serves conversely as the prin-
ciple of the deduction of an inscrutable faculty which no ex-
perience could prove, but of which speculative reason was
compelled at least to assume the possibility (in order to find
amongst its cosmological ideas the unconditioned in the chain
of causality, so as not to contradict itself)—I mean the faculty
of freedom. The moral law, which itself does not require a
justification, proves not merely the possibility of freedom, but
that it really belongs to beings who recognise this law as
binding on themselves. The moral law is in fact a law of the
causality of free agents, and therefore of the possibility of a
supersensible system of nature, just as the metaphysical law of
events in the world of sense was a law of causality of the sen-
sible system of nature; and it therefore determines what specu-
lative philosophy was compelled to leave undetermined, namely,
the law for a causality, the concept of which in the latter was
Only negative; and therefore for the first time gives this concept
objective reality. -
(164) This sort of credential of the moral law, viz. that it is
set forth as a principle of the deduction of freedom, which is a
causality of pure reason, is a sufficient substitute for all d priori
justification, since theoretic reason was compelled to assume at
least the possibility of freedom, in order to satisfy a want of its
own. For the moral law proves its reality, so as even to satisfy
the critique of the speculative reason, by the fact that if adds
a positive definition to a causality previously conceived only
negatively, the possibility of which was incomprehensible to
speculative reason, which yet was compelled to suppose it.
For it adds the notion of a reason that directly determines the
will (by imposing on its maxims the condition of a universal
legislative form); and thus it is able for the first time to give
objective, though only practical, reality to reason, which always
became transcendent when it sought to proceed speculatively
138 THE ANALYTIC OF [165]
with its ideas. It thus changes the transcendent use of reason
into an immanent use (so that reason is itself, by means of
ideas, an efficient cause in the field of experience).
The determination of the causality of beings in the world of
sense, as such, can never be unconditioned; and yet for every
series of conditions there must be something unconditioned,
and therefore there must be a causality which is determined
wholly by itself. Hence, the idea of freedom as a faculty of
absolute spontaneity was not found to be a want, but as far as
tts possibility is concerned, an analytic principle of pure specu-
lative reason. But as it is absolutely impossible to find in
experience any example in accordance with this idea, because
amongst the causes of things as phenomena, it would be impos-
sible to meet with any absolutely unconditioned determination
of causality, we were only able to defend our supposition that a
freely acting cause might be a being in the world of sense, in
So far as it is considered in the other point of view as a
noumenon (165), showing that there is no contradiction in re-
garding all its actions as subject to physical conditions so far
as they are phenomena, and yet regarding its causality as
physically unconditioned, in so far as the acting being belongs
to the world of understanding,” and in thus making the concept
of freedom the regulative principle of reason. By this principle
I do not indeed learn what the object is to which that sort of
causality is attributed; but I remove the difficulty; for, on the
One side, in the explanation of events in the world, and conse-
quently also of the actions of rational beings, I leave to the
mechanism of physical necessity the right of ascending from
conditioned to condition ad infinitum, while on the other side
I keep open for speculative reason the place which for it is
vacant, namely, the intelligible, in order to transfer the uncon-
* [By “immanent” Kant means what is strictly confined within the
limits of experience; by “transcendent” what pretends to overpass these
bounds. Cf. Kritik der reinen Vernunft, ed. Rosenkr., p. 240. Meiklejohn's
transl., p. 210.]
* [Is a “Verstandeswesen.”]
[166] Plj RE PRACTICAL REASON. 139
ditioned thither. But I was not able to verify this supposition ;
that is, to change it into the knowledge of a being so acting, not
even into the knowledge of the possibility of such a being.
This vacant place is now filled by pure practical reason with a
definite law of causality in an intelligible world (causality with
freedom), namely, the moral law. Speculative reason does not
hereby gain anything as regards its insight, but only as regards.
the certainty of its problematical notion of freedom, which here
obtains objective reality, which, though only practical, is never-
theless undoubted. Even the notion of causality—the applica-
tion, and consequently the signification of which holds properly
only in relation to phenomena, so as to connect them into ex-
periences (as is shown by the critique of pure reason)—is not
so enlarged as to extend its use beyond these limits. For if
reason sought to do this it would have to show how the logical
relation of principle and consequence can be used synthetically
in a different sort of intuition from the sensible; that is how a
causa noumenon is possible (166). This it can never do ; and, as
practical reason, it does not even concern itself with it, since it
only places the determining principle of causality of man as a
sensible creature (which is given) in pure reason (which is there-
fore called practical); and therefore it employs the notion of
cause, not in order to know objects, but to determine causality
in relation to objects in general. It can abstract altogether
from the application of this notion to objects with a view to
theoretical knowledge (since this concept is always found
d priori in the understanding, even independently on any in-
tuition). Reason then employs it only for a practical purpose,
and hence we can transfer the determining principle of the will
into the intelligible order of things, admitting, at the same
time, that we cannot understand how the notion of cause can
determine the knowledge of these things. But reason must
cognise causality with respect to the actions of the will in the
Sensible world in a definite manner; otherwise, practical reason
could not really produce any action. But as to the notion
which it forms of its own causality as noumenon, it need not
determine it theoretically with a view to the cognition of its
140 THE ANALYTIC OF [168]
supersensible existence, so as to give it signifiéance in this way.
For it acquires significance apart from this, though only for
practical use, namely, through the moral law. Theoretically
viewed, it remains always a pure d priori concept of the under-
standing, which can be applied to objects whether they have
been given sensibly or not, although in the latter case it has no
definite theoretical significance or application, but is only a
formal, though essential, conception of the understanding relat-
ing to an object in general. The significance which reason
gives it through the moral law is merely practical, inasmuch as
the idea of the law of causality (of the will) has self causality,
or is its determining principle.
(167) II.-Of the right that Pure Reason in its practical use has to
an eatension which is not possible to it in its speculative use.
We have in the moral principle set forth a law of causality,
the determining principle of which is set above all the condi-
tions of the sensible world; we have it conceived how the will,
as belonging to the intelligible world, is determinable, and
therefore we have its subject (man) not merely conceived as
belonging to a world of pure understanding, and in this respect
unknown (which the critique of speculative reason enabled us
to do), but also defined as regards his causality by means of a
law which cannot be reduced to any physical law of the sensible
world; and therefore our knowledge is extended beyond the
limits of that world, a pretension which the critique of the pure
reason declared to be futile in all speculation. Now, how is
the practical use of pure reason here to be reconciled with
the theoretical, as to the determination of the limits of its
faculty ?
David Hume, of whom we may say that he commenced the
assault on the claims of pure reason, which made a thorough
investigation of it necessary, argued thus: the notion of cause is
a notion that involves the necessity of the connexion of the
existence of different things, and that, in so far as they are
different, so that, given A, I know that something quite dis-
tinct therefrom, namely B, must necessarily also exist (168).
[169] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. . 141
Now necessity can be attributed to a connexion, only in so far
as it is known d priori, for experience would only enable us to
know of such a connexion that it exists, not that it necessarily
exists. Now, it is impossible, says he, to know d priori and as
necessary the connexion between one thing and another (or
between one attribute and another quite distinct) when they
have not been given in experience. Therefore the notion of a
cause is fictitious and delusive, and, to speak in the mildest
way, is an illusion, only excusable inasmuch as the custom (a
subjective necessity) of perceiving certain things, or their attri-
butes as often associated in existence along with or in succession
to one another, is insensibly taken for an objective necessity of
supposing such a connexion in the objects themselves, and thus
the notion of a cause has been acquired surreptitiously and not
legitimately ; nay, it can never be so acquired or authenticated,
since it demands a connexion in itself vain, chimerical, and
untenable in presence of reason, and to which no object can
ever correspond. In this way was empiricism first introduced as
the sole source of principles, as far as all knowledge of the exis-
tence of things is concerned (mathematics therefore remaining
excepted); and with empiricism the most thorough scepticism,
even with regard to the whole science of nature (as philosophy).
For on such principles we can never conclude from giving at-
tributes of things as existing to a consequence (for this would
require the notion of cause, which involves the necessity of such
a connexion); we can only, guided by imagination, extept
similar cases—an expectation which is never certain, however
often it has been fulfilled. Of no event could we say: a certain
thing must have preceded it (169), on which it necessarily fol-
lowed; that is, it must have a cause; and therefore, however
frequent the cases we have known in which there was such an
antecedent, so that a rule could be derived from them, yet we
never could suppose it as always and necessarily so happening;
we should, therefore, be obliged to leave its share to blind
chance, with which all use of reason comes to an end; and this
firmly establishes scepticism in reference to arguments ascend-
ing from effects to causes, and makes it impregnable.
142 THE ANALYTIC OF [170]
Mathematics escaped well, so far, because Hume thought
that its propositions were analytical; that is, proceeded from
one property to another, by virtue of identity, and consequently
according to the principle of contradiction. This, however, is
not the case, since, on the contrary, they are synthetical; and
although geometry, for example, has not to do with the exis-
tence of things, but only with their d priori properties in a
possible intuition, yet it proceeds just as in the case of the
causal notion, from one property (A) to another wholly distinct
(B), as necessarily connected with the former. Nevertheless,
mathematical science, so highly vaunted for its apodictic cer-
tainty, must at last fall under this empiricism for the same
reason for which Hume put custom in the place of objective
necessity in the notion of cause, and in spite of all its pride
must consent to lower its bold pretention of claiming assent
d priori, and depend for assent to the universality of its pro-
positions on the kindness of observers, who, when called as
witnesses, would surely not hesitate to admit that what the
geometer propounds as a theorem they have always perceived
to be the fact, and, consequently, although it be not necessarily
true, yet they would permit us to expect it to be true in the
future. In this manner Hume’s empiricism leads inevitably to
scepticism, even with regard (170) to mathematics, and conse-
quently in every scientific theoretical use of reason (for this
belongs either to philosophy or mathematics). Whether with
such a terrible overthrow of the chief branches of knowledge
common reason will escape better, and will not rather become
irrecoverably involved in this destruction of all knowledge, so
that from the same principles a universal scepticism should
follow (affecting, indeed, only the learned), this I will leave
everyone to judge for himself.
As regards my own labours in the critical examination of
pure reason, which were occasioned by Hume's sceptical teach-
ing, but went much farther, and embraced the whole field of
pure theoretical reason in its synthetic use, and, consequently,
the field of what is called metaphysics in general; I proceeded
in the following manner with respect to the doubts raised by
[171] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 143
the Scottish philosopher touching the notion of causality. If
Hume took the objects of experience for things in themselves (as
is almost always done), he was quite right in declaring the
notion of cause to be a deception and false illusion; for as
to things in themselves, and their attributes as such, it is im-
possible to see why because A is given, B, which is different,
must necessarily be also given, and therefore he could by no
means admit such an a priori knowledge of things in them-
selves. Still less could this acute writer allow an empirical
origin of this concept, since this is directly contradictory to
the necessity of connexion which constitutes the essence of the
notion of causality; hence the notion was proscribed, and in
its place was put custom in the observation of the course of
perceptions. -
It resulted, however, from my inquiries, that the objects
with which we have to do in experience (171) are by no
means things in themselves, but merely phenomena; and that
although in the case of things in themselves it is impossible
to see how, if A is supposed, it should be contradictory that
B, which is quite different from A, should not also be supposed
(i.e. to see the necessity of the connexion between A. as cause
and B as effect); yet it can very well be conceived that, as
phenomena, they may be necessarily connected in one eagerience
in a certain way (e.g. with regard to time-relations); so that
they could not be separated without contradicting that con-
nexion, by means of which this experience is possible in which
they are objects, and in which alone they are cognisable by us.
And so it was found to be in fact; so that I was able not only
to prove the objective reality of the concept of cause in regard
to objects of experience, but also to deduce it as an d priori
concept by reason of the necessity of the connexion it implied;
that is, to show the possibility of its origin from pure under-
standing without any empirical sources; and thus, after remov-
ing the source of empiricism, I was able also to overthrow the
inevitable consequence of this, namely, scepticism, first with
regard to physical science, and then with regard to mathe-
matics (in which empiricism has just the same grounds), both
144 THE ANALYTIC OF [172]
being sciences which have reference to objects of possible
experience; herewith overthrowing the thorough doubt of
whatever theoretic reason professes to discern.
But how is it with the application of this category of cau-
sality (and all the others; for without them there can be no
knowledge of anything existing) to things which are not ob-
jects of possible experience, but lie beyond its bounds? For
I was able to deduce the objective reality of these concepts only
with regard to objects of possible experience (172). But even this
very fact, that I have saved them, only in case I have proved
that objects may by means of them be thought, though not
determined d priori; this it is that gives them a place in the
pure understanding, by which they are referred to objects in
general (sensible or not sensible). If anything is still wanting,
it is that which is the condition of the application of these cate-
gories, and especially that of causality, to objects, namely,
intuition; for where this is not given, the application with a
view to theoretic knowledge of the object, as a noumenon, is im-
possible; and therefore if anyone ventures on it, is (as in the
critique of the pure reason) absolutely forbidden. Still, the
objective reality of the concept (of causality) remains, and it
can be used even of noumena, but without our being able in
the least to define the concept theoretically so as to produce
knowledge. For that this concept, even in reference to an
object, contains nothing impossible, was shown by this, that
even while applied to objects of sense, its seat was certainly
fixed in the pure understanding; and although, when referred
to things in themselves (which cannot be objects of experience),
it is not capable of being determined so as to represent a definite
object for the purpose of theoretic knowledge; yet for any other
purpose (for instance a practical) it might be capable of being
determined so as to have such application. This could not be
the case if, as Hume maintained, this concept of causality con-
tained something absolutely impossible to be thought.
In order now to discover this condition of the application
of the said concept to noumena, we need only recall why we
are not content with its application to objects of experience, but
[173–174] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 145
desire also to apply it to things in themselves. It will appear,
then, that it is not a theoretic but a practical purpose (173)
that makes this a necessity. In speculation, even if we were
successful in it, we should not really gain anything in the
knowledge of nature, or generally with regard to such objects
as are given, but we should make a wide step from the sensibly
conditioned (in which we have already enough to do to main-
tain ourselves, and to follow carefully the chain of causes) to
the supersensible, in order to complete our knowledge of prin-
ciples and to fix its limits: whereas there always remains an
infinite chasm unfilled between those limits and what we know :
and we should have hearkened to a vain curiosity rather than a
solid desire of knowledge.
But, besides the relation in which the understanding stands
to objects (in theoretical knowledge), it has also a relation to
the faculty of desire, which is therefore called the will, and the
pure will, inasmuch as pure understanding (in this case called
reason) is practical through the mere conception of a law. The
objective reality of a pure will, Or, what is the same thing, of a
pure practical reason, is given in the moral law d priori, as it
were, by a fact, for so we may name a determination of the will
which is inevitable, although it does not rest on empirical prin-
ciples. Now, in the notion of a will the notion of causality is
already contained, and hence the notion of a pure will contains
that of a causality accompanied with freedom, that is, one which
is not determinable by physical laws, and consequently is not
capable of any empirical intuition in proof of its reality, but,
nevertheless, completely justifies its objective reality d 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 has free will is the notion of a
causa noumenon, and that this notion involves no contradiction
(174) we are already assured by the fact—that inasmuch as the
concept of cause has arisen wholly from pure understanding,
and has its objective reality assured by the Deduction, as it is
moreover in its origin independent on any sensible conditions,
it is, therefore, not restricted to phenomena (unless we wanted
L
146 THE ANALYTIC OF [175]
to make a definite theoretic use of it), but can be applied
equally to things that are objects of the pure understanding.
But, since this application cannot rest on any intuition (for
intuition can only be sensible), therefore, causa noumenon, as
regards the theoretic use of reason, although a possible and
thinkable, is yet an empty notion. Now, I do not desire by
means of this to understand theoretically the nature of a being,
tn so far as it has a pure will ; it is enough for me to have
thereby designated it as such, and hence to combine the notion
of causality with that of freedom (and what is inseparable from
it, the moral law, as its determining principle). Now this right
I certainly have by virtue of the pure, not-empirical, origin of
the notion of cause, since I do not consider myself entitled to
make any use of it except in reference to the moral law which
determines its reality, that is, only a practical use.
If, with Hume, I had denied to the notion of causality all
objective reality in its [theoretic'] use, not merely with regard
to things in themselves the (superSensible), but also with regard
to the objects of the senses, it would have lost all significance,
and being a theoretically impossible notion would have been
declared to be quite useless; and since what is nothing cannot
be made any use of, the practical use of a concept theoretically
null would have been absurd. But, as it is, the concept of
a causality free from empirical conditions, although empty
(i. e. without any appropriate intuition), is yet theoretically
possible (175), and refers to an indeterminate object, but in
compensation significance is given to it in the moral law, and
consequently in a practical sense. I have, indeed, no intuition
which should determine its objective theoretic reality, but not
the less it has a real application, which is exhibited in concreto
in intentions or maxims; that is, it has a practical reality
which can be specified, and this is sufficient to justify it even
with a view to noumena.
Now, this objective reality of a pure concept of the under-
standing in the sphere of the supersensible, once brought in,
* [The original has “practical; ” clearly an error.]
[175] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 147
gives an objective reality also to all the other categories,
although only so far as they stand in necessary connexion with
the determining principle of the will (the moral law); a reality
only of practical application, which has not the least effect in
enlarging our theoretical knowledge of these objects, or the
discernment of their nature by pure reason. So we shall find
also in the sequel that these categories refer only to beings as
*ntelligences, and in them only to the relation of reason to the
will; consequently, always only to the practical, and beyond
this cannot pretend to any knowledge of these beings; and
whatever other properties belonging to the theoretical repre-
sentation of supersensible things may be brought into con-
nexion with these categories, this is not to be reckoned as
knowledge, 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 case where we [conceive'] superSensible beings
(e. g. God) according to analogy, that is, a purely rational
relation, of which we make a practical use with reference to
what is sensible; and thus the application to the supersensible
solely in a practical point of view does not give pure theoretic
reason the least encouragement to run riot into the tran-
scendent.
* [The verb, indispensable to the sense, is absent from the original text.]
L 2
148 THE ANALYTIC OF [176–177]
(176) CHAPTER II.
OF THE CONCEPT OF AN OBJECT OF PURE PRACTICAL
T.EASON.
By a concept of the practical reason I understand the idea of
an object as an effect possible to be produced through freedom.
To be an object of practical knowledge, as such, signifies,
therefore, only the relation of the will to the action by which
the object or its opposite would be realized; and to decide
whether something is an object of pure practical reason or not,
is only to discern the possibility or impossibility of willing the
action by which, if we had the required power (about which
experience must decide), a certain object would be realized. If
the object be taken as the determining principle of our desire,
it must first be known whether it is physically possible by the
free use of our powers, before we decide whether it is an object
of practical reason or not. On the other hand, if the law can
be considered d priori as the determining principle of the
action, and the latter therefore as determined by pure practical
reason; the judgment, whether a thing (177) is an object of
pure practical reason or not does not depend at all on the
comparison with our physical power; and the question is only
whether we should will an action that is directed to the exist-
ence of an object, if the object were in our power; hence the
previous question is only as to the moral possibility of the
action, for in this case it is not the object, but the law of the
will, that is the determining principle of the action. The only
objects of practical reason are therefore those of good and evil.
For by the former is meant an object necessarily desired
according to a principle of reason; by the latter one neces-
sarily shunned, also according to a principle of reason.
If the notion of good is not to be derived from an ante-
[178] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 149
cedent practical law, but, on the contrary, is to serve as its
foundation, it can only be the notion of something whose exist-
ence promises pleasure, and thus determines the causality of
the subject to produce it, that is to say, determines the faculty
of desire. Now, since it is impossible to discern d priori what
idea will be accompanied with pleasure, and what with pain, it
will depend on experience alone to find out what is primarily"
good or evil. The property of the subject, with reference to
which alone this experiment can be made, is the feeling of
pleasure and pain, a receptivity belonging to the internal sense;
thus that only would be primarily good with which the Sensa-
tion of pleasure is immediately connected, and that simply evil
which immediately excites pain. Since, however, this is opposed
even to the usage of language, which distinguishes the pleasant
from the good, the unpleasant from the evil, and requires that
good and evil shall always be judged by reason, and, therefore,
by concepts which can be communicated to everyone, and not
by mere sensation, which is limited to individual subjects” and
their susceptibility (178); and, since nevertheless, pleasure or
pain cannot be connected with any idea of an object d priori,
the philosopher who thought himself obliged to make a feeling
of pleasure the foundation of his practical judgments would
call that good which is a means to the pleasant, and evil what is
a cause of unpleasantness and pain; for the judgment on the
relation of means to ends certainly belongs to reason. But,
although reason is alone capable of discerning the connexion of
means with their ends (so that the will might even be defined
as the faculty of ends, since these are always determining
principles of the desires), yet the practical maxims which would
follow from the aforesaid principle of the good being merely a
means, would never contain as the object of the will anything
good in itself, but only something good for something ; the good
would always be merely the useful, and that for which it is
* [Or “immediately,” i. e. without reference to any ulterior result.]
* [The original has “objects” [objecte], which makes no sense. I have
therefore ventured to correct it.]
150 THE AN AI.YTIC OF [179]
useful must always lie outside the will, in sensation. Now if
this as a pleasant sensation were to be distinguished from the
notion of good, then there would be nothing primarily good at
all, but the good would have to be sought only in the means to
Something else, namely, some pleasantness.
It is an old formula of the schools: Nihil appetimus mis? Sub
ratione boni; Nihil aversamur nisi sub ratione mali, and it is used
often correctly, but often also in a manner injurious to philo-
sophy, because the expressions boni and mali are ambiguous,
owing to the poverty of language, in consequence of which
they admit a double sense, and, therefore, inevitably bring the
practical laws into ambiguity; and philosophy, which in em-
ploying them becomes aware of the different meanings in the
same word, but can find no special expressions for them, is
driven to subtile distinctions about which there is subsequently
no unanimity, because the distinction (179) could not be directly
marked by any suitable expression." -
The German language has the good fortune to possess ex-
pressions which do not allow this difference to be overlooked.
It possesses two very distinct concepts, and especially distinct
expressions, for that which the Latins express by a single word,
bonum. For bonum it has “das Gute’’ [good], and “das
Wohl” [well, weal], for malum “das Böse” [evil], and “das
tjbel ” [ill, bad], or “das Weh” [woe]. So that we express
two quite distinct judgments when we consider in an action the
good and evil of it, or our weal and woe (ill). Hence it already
follows that the above quoted psychological proposition is at
least very doubtful if it is translated; “we desire nothing
except with a view to our weal or woe”; on the other hand, if
* Besides this, the expression sub ratione boni is also ambiguous. For
it may mean: We represent something to ourselves as good, when and
because we desire (will) it; or, we desire something because we represent it
to ourselves as good, so that either the desire determines the notion of the
object as a good, or the notion of good determines the desire (the will); so
that in the first case sub ratione boni would mean we will something under
the idea of the good; in the second, in consequence of this idea, which, as
determining the volition, must precede it.
[180] FURE PRACTICAL REASON. 151
we render it thus: “under the direction of reason we desire
nothing except so far as we esteem it good or evil,” it is
indubitably certain, and at the same time quite clearly ex-
pressed."
Well or ill always implies only a reference to our condition,
as pleasant or unpleasant, as one of pleasure or pain, and if we
desire or avoid an object on this account, it is only so far as it is
referred to our sensibility and to the feeling of pleasure or pain
that it produces. But good or evil always implies a reference to
the will, as determined by the law of reason, to make something
its object (180); for it is never determined directly by the object
and the idea of it, but is a faculty of taking a rule of reason
for the motive of an action (by which an object may be
realized). Good and evil therefore are properly referred to
actions, not to the sensations of the person, and if anything is
to be good or evil absolutely (i. e. in every respect and without
any further condition), or is to be so esteemed, it can only be
the manner of acting, the maxim of the will, and consequently
the acting person himself as a good or evil man that can be so
called, and not a thing.
However, then, men may laugh at the Stoic, who in the
severest paroxysms of gout cried out : Pain, however thou tor-
mentest me, I will never admit that thou art an evil (kaków,
malum): he was right. A bad thing it certainly was, and his
cry betrayed that ; but that any evil attached to him thereby,
this he had no reason whatever to admit, for pain did not in
the least diminish the worth of his person, but only that of his
condition. If he had been conscious of a single lie it would
"[The English language marks the distinction in question, though riot
perfectly. “I’vil” is not absolutely restricted to moral evil; we speak also
of physical evils, but certainly when not so qualified it applies usually (as
an adjective, perhaps exclusively) to moral evil. “Bad” is more general,
but when used with a word connoting moral qualities, it expresses moral
evil; for example, a “bad man,” a “bad scholar.” These words are
etymologically the same as the German “ibel” and “böse” respectively.
“Good” is ambiguous, being opposed to “bad,” as well as to “evil,” but
the corresponding German word is equally ambiguous.]
I 52 THE AN AILYTIC OF [181]
have lowered his pride, but pain served only to raise it, when
he was conscious that he had not deserved it by any un-
righteous action by which he had rendered himself worthy of
punishment.
What we call good must be an object of desire in the judg-
ment of every rational man, and evil an object of aversion in
the eyes of everyone ; therefore, in addition to sense, this
judgment requires reason. So it is with truthfulness, as op-
posed to lying; so with justice, as opposed to violence, &c.
But we may call a thing a bad [or ill] thing, which yet every-
one must at the same time acknowledge to be good, sometimes
directly, sometimes indirectly (181). The man who submits to
a surgical operation feels it no doubt as a bad [ill] thing, but
by their reason he and everyone acknowledge it to be good.
If a man who delights in annoying and vexing peaceable
people at last receives a right good beating, this is no doubt a
bad [ill] thing, but everyone approves it and regards it as a
good thing, even though nothing else resulted from it; nay,
even the man who receives it must in his reason acknowledge
that he has met justice, because he sees the proportion between
good conduct and good fortune, which reason inevitably places
before him, here put into practice.
No doubt our weal and woe are of very great importance in
the estimation of our practical reason, and as far as our nature
as sensible beings is concerned, our happiness is the only thing
of consequence, provided it is estimated as reason especially re-
quires, not by the transitory sensation, but by the influence
that this has on our whole existence, and on our satisfaction
therewith ; but it is not absolutely the only thing of consequence.
Man is a being who, as belonging to the world of sense, has
wants, and so far his reason has an office which it cannot re-
fuse, namely, to attend to the interest of his sensible nature,
and to form practical maxims, even with a view to the happi-
ness of this life, and if possible even to that of a future. But
he is not so completely an animal as to be indifferent to what
reason says on its own account, and to use it merely as an
instrument for the satisfaction of his wants as a sensible being.
[182–183] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 153
For the possession of reason would not raise his worth above
that of the brutes, if it is to serve him only for the same pur-
pose that instinct serves in them; it would in that case be only
a particular method which nature had employed to equip man
for the same ends (182) for which it has qualified brutes, without
qualifying him for any higher purpose. No doubt once this
arrangement of nature has been made for him he requires reason
in order to take into consideration his weal and woe, but besides
this he possesses it for a higher purpose also, namely, not only
to take into consideration what is good or evil in itself, about
which only pure reason, uninfluenced by any sensible interest,
can judge, but also to distinguish this estimate thoroughly from
the former, and to make it the supreme condition thereof.
In estimating what is good or evil in itself, as distinguished
from what can be so called only relatively, the following points
are to be considered. Either a rational principle is already
conceived, as of itself the determining principle of the will,
without regard to possible objects of desire (and therefore by
the mere legislative form of the maxim), and in that case
that principle is a practical d priori law, and pure reason is
supposed to be practical of itself. The law in that case deter-
mines the will directly ; the action conformed to it is good in
itself; a will whose maxim always conforms to this law is good
absolutely in every respect, and is the supreme condition of all good.
Or the maxim of the will is consequent on a determining prin-
ciple of desire which presupposes an object of pleasure or pain,
something therefore that pleases or displeases, and the maxim of
reason that we should pursue the former and avoid the latter
determines our actions as good relatively to our inclination,
that is, good indirectly (i.e. relatively to a different end to
which they are means), and in that case these maxims can
never be called laws, but may be called rational practical pre-
cepts. The end itself, the pleasure that we seek, is in the latter
case not a good but a welfare; not a concept of reason (183), but
an empirical concept of an object of sensation; but the use of
the means thereto, that is, the action, is nevertheless called
good (because rational deliberation is required for it), not how-
154 THE ANALYTIC OF [184]
ever good absolutely, but only relatively to our sensuous nature,
with regard to its feelings of pleasure and displeasure; but the
will whose maxim is affected thereby is not a pure will; this
is directed only to that in which pure reason by itself can be
practical.
This is the proper place to explain the paradox of method
in a critique of Practical Reason, namely, that the concept of
good and evil must not be determined before the moral law (of which
tº seems as if 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 a pure d priori law determining the will, yet,
that we may not assume principles quite gratuitously, we must,
at least at first, leave it undecided, whether the will has merely
empirical principles of determination, or whether it has not also
pure d priori principles; for it is contrary to all rules of philo-
sophical method to assume as decided that which is the very
point in question. Supposing that we wished to begin with the
concept of good, in order to deduce from it the laws of the will,
then this concept of an object (as a good) would at the same
time assign to us this object as the sole determining principle
of the will. Now, since this concept had not any practical d
priori law for its standard, the criterion of good or evil could
not be placed in anything but the agreement of the object with
our feeling of pleasure or pain; and the use of reason could
only consist in determining in the first place this pleasure or
pain in connexion with all the sensations of my existence, and
in the second place the means of securing to myself the object
of the pleasure (184). Now, as experience alone can decide what
conforms to the feeling of pleasure, and by hypothesis the prac-
tical law is to be based on this as a condition, it follows that
the possibility of d priori practical laws would be at Once ex-
cluded, because it was imagined to be necessary first of all to
find an object the concept of which, as a good, should constitute
the universal though empirical principle of determination of the
will. But what it was necessary to inquire first of all was .
whether there is not an a priori determining principle of the
will (and this could never be found anywhere but in a pure
[185] FURE PRACTICAL REASON. 155
practical law, in so far as this law prescribes to maxims merely
their form without regard to an object). Since, however, we
laid the foundation of all practical law in an object determined
by our conceptions of good and evil, whereas without a previous
law that object could only be conceived by empirical concepts,
we have deprived ourselves beforehand of the possibility of even
conceiving a pure practical law. On the other hand, if we had
first investigated the latter analytically, we should have found
that it is not the concept of good as an object that determines
the moral law, and makes it possible, but that, on the contrary,
it is the moral law that first determines the concept of good,
and makes it possible, so far as it deserves the name of good
absolutely.
This remark, which only concerns the method of ultimate
Ethical inquiries, is of importance. It explains at Once the
occasion of all the mistakes of philosophers with respect to the
supreme principle of morals. For they sought for an object of
the will which they could make the matter and principle of a
law (which consequently could not determine the will directly
but by means of that object referred to the feeling of pleasure
or pain (185); whereas they ought first to have searched for a
law that would determine the will d priori and directly, and
afterwards determine the object in accordance with the will).
Now, whether they placed this object of pleasure, which was
to supply the Supreme conception of goodness, in happiness, in
perfection, in moral [feeling", or in the will of God, their
principle in every case implied heteronomy, and they must
inevitably come upon empirical conditions of a moral law, since
their object, which was to be the immediate principle of the
will, could not be called good or bad except in its immediate
relation to feeling, which is always empirical. It is only a
formal law—that is, one which prescribes to reason nothing
more than the form of its universal legislation as the Supreme
condition of its maxims—that can be d priori a determining
* [Rosenkranz' text has “law”—certainly an error (“Gesetz’ for
“Gefühl”); Hartenstein corrects it.]
y
156 THE ANALYTIC OF [186]
principle of practical reason. The ancients avowed this error
without concealment by directing all their moral inquiries to
the determination of the notion of the summum bonum, which
they intended afterwards to make the determining principle of
the will in the moral law; whereas it is only far later, when
the moral law has been first established for itself, and shown
to be the direct determining principle of the will, that this
object can be presented to the will, whose form is now deter-
mined d priori; and this we shall undertake in the Dialectic
of the pure practical reason. The moderns, with whom the
question of the summum bonum has gone out of fashion, or at
least seems to have become a secondary matter, hide the same
error under vague expressions (as in many other cases). It
shows itself, nevertheless, in their systems, as it always pro-
duces heteronomy of practical reason; and from this can never
be derived a moral law giving universal commands.
(186) Now, since the notions of good and evil, as conse-
quences of the d priori determination of the will, imply also
a pure practical principle, and therefore a causality of pure
reason; hence they do not originally refer to objects (so as to
be, for instance, special modes of the synthetic unity of the
manifold of given intuitions in one consciousness") like the
pure concepts of the understanding or categories 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, the determining
principle of which consists in the rational conception of a law,
which as a law of freedom reason gives to itself, thereby d
priori proving itself practical. However, as the actions on the
one side come under a law which is not a physical law, but
a law of freedom, and consequently belong to the conduct of
beings in the world of intelligence, yet on the other side as
events in the world of sense they belong to phenomena; hence
the determinations of a practical reason are only possible in
* [For the meaning of this expression, see the Critique of Pure Reason,
trans. by Meiklejohn, p. 82.]
[187] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 157
reference to the latter, and therefore in accordance with the
categories of the understanding; not indeed with a view to any
theoretic employment of it, i.e. so as to bring the manifold of
(sensible) intuition under one consciousness d priori; but only
to subject the manifold of desires to the unity of consciousness
of a practical reason, giving it commands in the moral law, i. e.
to a pure will d priori.
These categories of freedom—for so we choose to call them in
contrast to those theoretic categories which are categories of
physical nature—have an obvious advantage over the latter,
inasmuch as the latter are only forms of thought which desig-
nate objects in an indefinite manner by means of universal
concepts for every possible intuition ; the former, on the con-
trary, refer to the determination of a free elective will (to which
indeed no exactly corresponding intuition can be assigned (187),
but which has as its foundation a pure practical d priori law,
which is not the case with any concepts belonging to the theo-
retic use of our cognitive faculties); hence, instead of the form
of intuition (space and time), which does not lie in reason itself,
but has to be drawn from another source, namely, the sensi-
bility, these being elementary practical concepts have as their
foundation the form of a pure will, which is given in reason, and
therefore in the thinking faculty itself. From this it happens
that as all precepts of pure practical reason have to do only
with the determination of the will, not with the physical condi-
tions (of practical ability) of the evecution of one's purpose, the
practical d priori principles in relation to the Supreme principle
of freedom are at once cognitions, and have not to wait for
intuitions in order to acquire significance, and that for this
remarkable reason, because they themselves produce the reality
of that to which they refer (the intention of the will), which
is not the case with theoretical concepts. Only we must be
careful to observe that these categories only apply to the prac-
tical reason ; and thus they proceed in order from those which
are as yet subject to sensible conditions and morally indeter-
minate to those which are free from sensible conditions, and
determined merely by the moral law.
158 THE ANALYTIC OF [188–189]
(188) Table of the Categories of Freedom relatively to the
Notions of Good and Evil.
I.—QUANTITY.
Subjective, according to maxims (practical opinions of the individual).
Objective, according to principles (precepts).
A priori both objective and subjective principles of freedom (laws).
II.—QUALITY.
Practical rules of action (praeceptiva).
Practical rules of omission (prohibitiva).
Practical rules of eacceptions (eacceptiva).
III.—RELATION.
To personality.
To the condition of the person.
Reciprocal, of one person to the condition of the others.
IV.- MODALITY,
The permitted and the forbidden.
Duty and the contrary to duty.
Perfect and imperfect duty.
(189) It will at once be observed that in this table freedom
is considered as a sort of causality not subject to empirical prin-
ciples of determination, in regard to actions possible by it, which
are phenomena in the world of Sense, and that consequently it
is referred to the categories which concern its physical possibility,
whilst yet each category is taken so universally that the deter-
mining principle of that causality can be placed outside the
world of sense in freedom as a property of a being in the world
of intelligence; and finally the categories of modality introduce
the transition from practical principles generally to those of
morality, but only problematically. These can be established
dogmatically only by 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
kind based on principles is very useful in any science, both for
the sake of thoroughness and intelligibility. Thus, for instance,
we know from the preceding table and its first number what we
[190] PTJ RE PRACTICAL REASON. 159.
must begin from in practical inquiries, namely, from the
maxims which everyone founds on his own inclinations; the
precepts which hold for a species of rational beings so far as
they agree in certain inclinations; and finally the law which
holds for all without regard to their inclinations, &c. In this
way we survey the whole plan of what has to be done, every
question of practical philosophy that has to be answered, and
also the Order that is to be followed.
Of the Typic of the Pure Practical Judgment.
It is the notions of good and evil that first determine an
object of the will. They themselves, however (190), are subject
to a practical rule of reason, which, if it is pure reason, deter-
mines the will d priori relatively to its object. Now, whether
an action which is possible to us in the world of sense, comes
under the rule or not, is a question to be decided by the prac-
tical Judgment, by which what is said in the rule universally
(in abstracto) is applied to an action in concreto. But since a
practical rule of pure reason in the first place as practical con-
cerns the existence of an object, and in the second place as a
practical rule of pure reason, implies necessity as regards the
existence of the action, and therefore is a practical law, not a
physical law depending on empirical principles of determination,
but a law of freedom by which the will is to be determined
independently on anything empirical (merely by the conception
of a law and its form), whereas all instances that can occur of
possible actions can only be empirical, that is, belong to the
experience of physical nature; hence, it seems absurd to expect
to find in the world of sense a case which, while as such it
depends only on the law of nature, yet admits of the application
to it of a law of freedom, and to which we can apply the super-
sensible idea of the morally good which is to be exhibited in it
in concreto. Thus, the Judgment of the pure practical reason is
subject to the same difficulties 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
160 THE ANALYTIC OF [191]
employment, intuitions were required to which pure concepts
of the understanding could be applied, and such intuitions
(though only of objects of the senses) can be given d priori,
and therefore, as far as regards the union of the manifold in
them, conforming to the pure à priori concepts of the under-
standing as schemata. On the other hand, the morally good is
something whose object is superSensible; for which, therefore, no-
thing corresponding can be found in any sensible intuition (191).
Judgment depending on laws of pure practical reason seems,
therefore, to be subject to special difficulties arising from
this, that a law of freedom is to be applied to actions, which
are events taking place in the world of sense, and which, so
far, belong to physical nature.
|But here again is opened a favourable prospect for the pure
practical Judgment. When I subsume under a pure practical
law an action possible to me in the world of sense, I am not
concerned with the possibility of the action as an event in the
world of sense. This is a matter that belongs to the decision
of reason in its theoretic use according to the law of causality,
which is a pure concept of the understanding, for which reason
has a schema in the sensible intuition. Physical causality, or
the condition under which it takes place, belongs to the physi-
cal concepts, the schema of which is sketched by transcendental
imagination. Here, however, we have to do, not with the
schema of a case that occurs according to laws, but with the
schema of a law itself (if the word is allowable here), since
the fact that the will (not the action relatively to its effect) is
determined by the law alone without any other principle, con-
nects the notion of causality with quite different conditions
from those which constitute physical connexion.
The physical law being a law to which the objects of sen-
sible intuition, as such, are subject, must have a schema corre-
sponding to it—that is, a general procedure of the imagination
(by which it exhibits d priori to the senses the pure concept of
the understanding which the law determines). But the law of
freedom (that is, of a causality not subject to sensible condi-
tions), and consequently the concept of the unconditionally
[192–193] PTJ RE PRACTICAL REASON. 16]
good, cannot have any intuition, nor consequently any schema
supplied to it for the purpose of its application in concreto.
Consequently the moral law has no faculty (192) but the under-
standing to aid its application to physical objects (not the
imagination); and the understanding for the purposes of the
Judgment can provide for an idea of the reason, not a schema
of the sensibility, but a law, though only as to its form as law;
such a law, however, as can be exhibited in concreto in objects
of the senses, and therefore a law of nature. We can therefore
call this law the Type of the moral law.
The rule of the Judgment according to laws of pure prac-
tical reason is this: ask yourself whether, if the action you
propose were to take place by a law of the system of nature of
which you were yourself a part, you could regard it as possible
by your own will. Everyone does, in fact, decide by this rule
whether actions are morally good or evil. Thus, people say:
If everyone permitted himself to deceive, when he thought it to
his advantage; or thought himself justified in shortening his
life as soon as he was thoroughly weary of it ; or looked with
perfect indifference on the necessity of others; and if you
belonged to such an order of things, would you do so with
the assent of your own will P. Now everyone knows well that
if he secretly allows himself to deceive, it does not follow that
everyone else does so ; or if, unobserved, he is destitute of com-
passion, others would not necessarily be so to him ; hence, this
comparison of the maxim of his actions with a universal law of
nature is not the determining principle of his will. Such a law
is, nevertheless, a type of the estimation of the maxim on moral
principles. If the maxim of the action is not such as to stand
the test of the form of a universal law of nature, then it is
morally impossible. This is the judgment even of common
sense; for its ordinary judgments, even those of experience,
are always based on the law of nature. It has it therefore
always at hand, only that in cases (193) where causality from
freedom is to be criticised, it makes that law of nature only the
type of a law of freedom, because without something which it
could use as an example in a case of experience, it could not
IM
162 THE ANALYTIC OF [194]
give the law of a pure practical reason its proper use in
practice.
It is therefore allowable to use the system of the world of
sense as the type of a supersensible system of things, provided I
do not transfer to the latter the intuitions, and what depends
on them, but merely apply to it the form of law in general (the
notion of which occurs even in the [commonest] use of reason,
but cannot be definitely known a priori for any other purpose
than the pure practical use of reason); for laws, as such, are
so far identical, no matter from what they derive their deter-
mining principles.
Further, since of all the supersensible absolutely nothing
[is known] except freedom (through the moral law), and this
only so far as it is inseparably implied in that law, and more-
over all superSensible objects to which reason might lead us,
following the guidance of that law, have still no reality for us,
except for the purpose of that law, and for the use of mere
practical reason; and as Reason is authorized and even com-
pelled to use physical nature (in its pure form as an object
of the understanding) as the type of the Judgment; hence,
the present remark will serve to guard against reckoning
amongst concepts themselves that which belongs only to the
typic of concepts. This, namely, as a typic of the Judgment,
guards against the empiricism of practical reason, which founds
the practical notions of good and evil merely on experienced
consequences (so called happiness). No doubt happiness and
the infinite advantages which would result from a will deter-
mined by self-love, if this will at the same time erected itself
into a universal law of nature (194), may certainly serve as a
perfectly suitable type for the morally Good, but it is not iden-
tical with it. The same typic guards also against the mysticism
of practical reason, which turns what served only as a symbol
into a schema, that is, proposes to provide for the moral concepts
actual intuitions, which, however, are not sensible (intuitions of
an invisible Kingdom of God), and thus plunges into the tran-
[*Adopting Hartenstein's conjecture “gemeinste,” for “reinste,” “ purest.”]
| 194] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 163
scendent. What is befitting the use of the moral concepts is only
the rationalism of the Judgment, which takes from the sensible
system of nature only what pure reason can also conceive of
itself, that is, conformity to law, and transfers into the super-
sensible nothing but what can conversely be actually exhibited
by actions in the world of sense according to the formal rule of
a law of nature. However, the caution against empiricism of
practical reason is much more important ; for mysticism is quite
reconcilable with the purity and sublimity of the moral law,
and, besides, it is not very natural or agreeable to common
habits of thought to strain one’s imagination to supersensible
intuitions; and hence the danger on this side is not so general.
Empiricism, on the contrary, cuts up at the roots the morality
of intentions (in which, and not in actions only, consists the high
worth that men can and Ought to give to themselves), and sub-
stitutes for duty something quite different, namely, an empiri-
cal interest, with which the inclinations generally are secretly
leagued ; and empiricism, moreover, being on this account
allied with all the inclinations which (no matter what fashion
they put on) degrade humanity when they are raised to the
dignity of a Supreme practical principle; and as these never-
theless are so favourable to everyone’s feelings, it is for that
reason much more dangerous than mysticism, which can never
constitute a lasting condition of any great number of persons.
[l Read “weil” with Hartenstein, not “womit.”]
M 2
164 THE ANALYTIC OF [195–196]
(195) CHAPTER III.
OF THE MOTIVES OF PURE FRACTICAI, REASON.
WHAT is essential in the moral worth of actions is that the
moral law should directly determine the will. If the determination
of the will takes place in conformity indeed to the moral law,
but only by means of a feeling, no matter of what kind, which
has to be presupposed in order that the law may be sufficient to
determine the will, and therefore not for the sake of the law,
then the action will possess legality but not morality. Now, if
we understand by motive [or spring] (elater animi) the subjec-
tive ground of determination of the will of a being whose
Reason does not necessarily conform to the objective law, by
virtue of its own nature, then it will follow, first, that no
motives can be attributed to the Divine will, and that the
motives of the human will (as well as that of every created
rational being) can never be anything else than the moral law,
and consequently that the objective principle of determination
must always and alone be also the subjectively sufficient deter-
mining principle of the action (196), if this is not merely to fulfil
the letter of the law, without containing its spirit."
Since, then, for the purpose of giving the moral law influence
over the will, we must not seek for any other motives that
might enable us to dispense with the motive of the law itself,
because that would produce mere hypocrisy, without consist-
ency; and it is even dangerous to allow other motives (for
instance, that of interest) even to co-operate along with the
moral law; hence nothing is left us but to determine carefully
* We may say of every action that conforms to the law, but is not done
for the sake of the law, that it is morally good in the letter, not in the spirit
(the intention).
[197] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 165
in what way the moral law becomes a motive, and what effect
this has upon the faculty of desire. For as to the question how
a law can be directly and of itself a determining principle of
the will (which is the essence of morality), this is, for human
reason, an insoluble problem and identical with the question :
how a free will is possible. Therefore what we have to show
d priori is, not why the moral law in itself supplies a motive,
but what effect it, as such, produces (or, more correctly speaking,
must produce) on the mind. -
The essential point in every determination of the will by
the moral law is that being a free will it is determined simply
by the moral law, not only without the co-operation of sensible
impulses, but even to the rejection of all such, and to the
checking of all inclinations 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, and this motive can be known d priori to be
such. For all inclination and every sensible impulse is founded
on feeling, and the negative effect (197) produced on feeling (by
the check on the inclinations) is itself feeling; consequently,
we can see d priori that the moral law, as a determining prin-
ciple of the will, must by thwarting all our inclinations produce
a feeling which may be called pain; and in this we have the
first, perhaps the only instance, in which we are able from
d priori considerations to determine the relation of a cognition
(in this case of pure practical reason) to the feeling of pleasure
or displeasure. All the inclinations together (which can be
reduced to a tolerable system, in which case their satisfaction is
called happiness) constitute self-regard (solipsismus). This is
either the self-love that consists in an excessive fondness for
oneself (philautia), or satisfaction with oneself (arrogantia).
The former is called particularly selfishness ; the latter self-
conceit. Pure practical reason only checks selfishness, looking
on it as natural and active in us even prior to the moral law, so
far as to limit it to the condition of agreement with this law,
and then it is called rational self-love. But self-conceit Reason
strikes down altogether, since all claims to self-esteem which
precede agreement with the moral law are vain and unjusti-
166 THE ANALYTIC OF [198]
fiable, for the certainty of a state of mind that coincides with
this law is the first condition of personal worth (as we shall
presently show more clearly), and prior to this conformity any
pretension to worth is false and unlawful. Now the propensity
to self-esteem is one of the inclinations which the moral law
checks, inasmuch as that esteem rests only on morality. There-
fore the moral law breaks down self-conceit. But as this law
is something positive in itself, namely, the form of an intel-
lectual causality, that is, of freedom, it must be an object of
respect ; for by opposing the subjective antagonism of the in-
clinations (198) it weakens self-conceit ; and since it even breaks
down, that is, humiliates this conceit, it is an object of the
highest respect, and consequently is the foundation of a positive
feeling which is not of empirical origin, but is known d priori.
Therefore respect for the moral law is a feeling which is pro-
duced by an intellectual cause, and this feeling is the only one
that we know quite d priori, and the necessity of which we can
perceive.
In the preceding chapter we have seen that everything that
presents itself as an object of the will prior to the moral law is
by that law itself, which is the supreme condition of practical
reason, excluded from the determining principles of the will
which we have called the unconditionally good; and that the
mere practical form which consists in the adaptation of the
maxims to universal legislation first determines what is good in
itself and absolutely, and is the basis of the maxims of a pure
will, which alone is good in every respect. However, we find
that our nature as sensible beings is such that the matter of
desire (objects of inclination, whether of hope or fear) first
presents itself to us; and our pathologically affected self,
although it is in its maxims quite unfit for universal legislation;
yet, just as if it constituted our entire self, strives to put its
pretensions forward first, and to have them acknowledged as the
first and original. This propensity to make ourselves in the
subjective determining principles of our choice serve as the
objective determining principle of the will generally may be
called self-love; and if this pretends to be legislative as an
[199—200] PTJ RE PRACTICAL REASON. 167
unconditional practical principle it may be called self-conceit.
Now the moral law, which alone is truly objective (namely, in
every respect), entirely excludes the influence of self-love on
the Supreme practical principle, and indefinitely checks the self-
conceit that prescribes the subjective conditions of the former as
laws (199). Now whatever checks our self-conceit in our own
judgment humiliates ; therefore the moral law inevitably
humbles every man when he compares with it the physical
propensities of his nature. That, the idea of which as a deter-
nining principle of our will humbles us in our self-consciousness,
awakes respect for itself, so far as it is itself positive, and a
determining principle. Therefore the moral law is even sub-
jectively a cause of respect. Now since everything that enters
into self-love belongs to inclination, and all inclination rests on
feelings, and consequently whatever checks all the feelings
together in self-love has necessarily, by this very circumstance,
an influence on feeling; hence we comprehend how it is pos-
sible to perceive d priori that the moral law can produce an
effect on feeling, in that it excludes the inclinations and the
propensity to make them the supreme practical condition, i. e.
self-love, from all participation in the Supreme legislation.
This effect is on one side merely negative, but on the other side,
relatively to the restricting principle of pure practical reason, it
is positive. No special kind of feeling need be assumed for this
under the name of a practical or moral feeling as antecedent to
the moral law, and serving as its foundation.
The negative effect on feeling (unpleasantness) is patho-
logical, like every influence on feeling, and like every feeling
generally. But as an effect of the consciousness of the moral
law, and consequently in relation to a supersensible cause,
namely, the subject of pure practical reason which is the
supreme lawgiver, this feeling of a rational being affected by
inclinations is called humiliation (intellectual self-depreciation);
but with reference to the positive source of this humiliation, the
law, it is respect for it. There is indeed no feeling for this
law (200); but inasmuch as it removes the resistance out of the
way, this removal of an obstacle is, in the judgment of reason
|
-
168 THE ANALYTIC of [201]
esteemed equivalent to a positive help to its causality. There-
fore this feeling may also be called a feeling of respect for the
moral law, and for both reasons together a moral feeling.
While the moral law, therefore, is a formal determining
principle of action by practical pure reason, and is moreover a
material though only objective determaining principle of the
objects of action as called good and evil, it is also a subjective
determining principle, that is, a motive to this action, inasmuch
as it has influence on the morality of the subject, and produces
a feeling conducive to the influence of the law on the will.
There is here in the subject no antecedent feeling tending to
morality. For this is impossible, since every feeling is sensible,
and the motive of moral intention must be free from all sensible
conditions. On the contrary, while the sensible feeling which is
at the bottom of all our inclinations is the condition of that im-
pression which we call respect, the cause that determines it lies
in the pure practical reason; and this impression therefore, on
account of its origin, must be called, not a pathological, but a
practical effect. For by the fact that the conception of the
moral law deprives self-love of its influence, and self-conceit of
its allusion, it lessons the obstacle to pure practical reason, and
produces the conception of the superiority of its objective law
to the impulses of the sensibility ; and thus, by removing the
counterpoise, it gives relatively greater weight to the law in the
judgment of reason (in the case of a will affected by the afore-
| said impulses). \ Thus the respect for the law is not a motive
to morality, but is morality itself subjectively considered as a
motive, inasmuch as pure practical reason (201), by rejecting all
the rival pretensions of self-love, gives authority to the law
which now alone has influence. Now it is to be observed that
as respect is an effect on feeling, and therefore on the sensi-
bility, of a rational being, it presupposes this sensibility, and
therefore also the finiteness of such beings on whom the moral
law imposes respect ; and that respect for the law cannot be
attributed to a supreme being, or to any being free from all
sensibility, and in whom, therefore, this sensibility cannot be
an obstacle to practical reason.
[202] PTJ RE PRACTICAL REASON. 169
This feeling [sentiment] (which we call the moral feeling)
is therefore produced simply by reason. It does not serve for
the estimation of actions nor for the foundation of the objective
moral law itself, but merely as a motive to make this of itself a
maxim. But what name could we more suitably apply to this
singular feeling which cannot be compared to any pathological
feeling P It is of such a peculiar kind that it seems to be at the
disposal of reason only, and that pure practical reason.
Respect applies always to persons only—not to things. The
latter may arouse inclination, and if they are animals (e. g.
horses, dogs, &c.), even love or fear, like the sea, a volcano, a
beast of prey; but never respect. Something that comes nearer
to this feeling is admiration, and this, as an affection, astonish-
ment, can apply to things also, e.g. lofty mountains, the mag-
nitude, number, and distance of the heavenly bodies, the
strength and Swiftness of many animals, &c. But all this is
not respect. A man also may be an object to me of love, fear,
or admiration, even to astonishment, and yet not be an object
of respect. His jocose humour, his courage and strength, his
power from the rank he has amongst others (202), may inspire
me with sentiments of this kind, but still inner respect for him
is wanting. Fontenelle says, “I bow before a great man, but
my mind does not bow.” I would add, before an humble,
plain man, in whom I perceive uprightness of character in a
higher degree than I am conscious 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 my superior rank. Why is
this P. Because his example exhibits to me a law that humbles
my self-conceit when I compare it with my conduct : a law,
the practicability of obedience to which I see proved by fact
before my 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 standard being furnished by a man
whose imperfections, whatever they may be, are not known to
me as my own are, and who therefore appears to me in a more
favourable light. Respect is a tribute which we cannot refuse
170 THE ANALYTIC OF [203]
to merit, whether we will or not ; we may indeed outwardly
withhold it, but we cannot help feeling it inwardly.
Respect is so far from being a feeling of pleasure that we
Only reluctantly give way to it as regards a man. We try to
find out something that may lighten the burden of it, some
fault to compensate us for the humiliation which such an ex-
ample causes. Even the dead are not always secure from this
Criticism, especially if their example appears inimitable. Even
the moral law itself in its solemn majesty is exposed to this
endeavour to save oneself from yielding it respect (203). Can
it be thought that it is for any other reason that we are so
ready to reduce it to the level of our familiar inclination, or that
it is for any other reason that we all take such trouble to make it
out to be the chosen precept of our own interest well understood,
but that we want to be free from the deterrent respect which
shows us our own unworthiness with such severity ? Neverthe-
less, on the other hand, so little is there pain in it that if once
one has laid aside self-conceit and allowed practical influence to
that respect, he can never be satisfied with contemplating the
majesty of this law, and the soul believes itself elevated in pro-
portion as it sees the holy law elevated above it and its frail
nature. No doubt great talents and activity proportioned to
them may also occasion respect or an analogous feeling. It is
very proper to yield it to them, and then it appears as if this
sentiment were the same thing as admiration. But if we look
closer we shall observe that it is always uncertain how much of
the ability is due to native talent, and how much to diligence
in cultivating it. Reason represents it to us as probably the
fruit of cultivation, and therefore as meritorious, and this
notably reduces our self-conceit, and either casts a reproach on
us or urges us to follow such an example in the way that is suit-
able to us. This respect then which we show to such a person
(properly speaking, to the law that his example exhibits) is not
mere admiration; and this is confirmed also by the fact, that
when the common run of admirers think they have learned
from any source the badness of such a man’s character (for
instance Woltaire's) they give up all respect for him; whereas
[204–205] PUIRE PRACTICAL REASON. 171
the true scholar still feels it at least with regard to his
talents, because he is himself engaged in a business and a
vocation (204) which make imitation of such a man in Some
degree a law.
Respect for the moral law is therefore the only and the
undoubted moral motive, and this feeling is directed to no
object, except on the ground of this law. The moral law first
determines the will objectively and directly in the judgment of
reason ; and freedom, whose causality can be determined only
by the law, consists just in this, that it restricts all inclinations,
and consequently self-esteem, by the condition of obedience to
its pure law. This restriction now has an effect on feeling, and
produces the impression of displeasure which can be known d
prior; from the moral law. Since it is so far only a negative
effect which, arising from the influence of pure practical reason,
checks the activity of the subject, so far as it is determined by
inclinations, and hence checks the opinion of his personal worth
(which, in the absence of agreement with the moral law, is
reduced to nothing); hence, the effect of this law on feeling
is merely humiliation. We can, therefore, perceive this d priori,
but cannot know by it the force of the pure practical law as a
motive, but only the resistance to motives of the sensibility.
But since the same law is objectively, that is, in the conception
of pure reason, an immediate principle of determination of the
will, and consequently this humiliation takes place only rela-
tively to the purity of the law; hence, the lowering of the pre-
tensions of moral self-esteem, that is, humiliation on the sensible
side, is an elevation of the moral, i. e. practical, esteem for the
law itself on the intellectual side; in a word, it is respect for
the law, and therefore, as its cause is intellectual, a positive
feeling which can be known d priori. For whatever diminishes
the obstacles to an activity, furthers this activity itself (205).
Now the recognition of the moral law is the consciousness of
an activity of practical reason from objective principles, which
only fails to reveal its effect in actions because subjective
(pathological) causes hinder it. Respect for the moral law
then must be regarded as a positive, though indirect effect of
172 THE ANALYTIC OF [206]
it on feeling, inasmuch as this respect' weakens the impeding
influence of inclinations by humiliating self-esteem ; and hence
also as a subjective principle 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 the notion of a motive arises that of
an interest, which can never be attributed to any being unless
it possesses reason, and which signifies a motive of the will in so
far as it is conceived by the reason. Since in a morally good
will the law itself must be the motive, the moral interest is a
pure interest of practical reason alone, independent on sense.
On the notion of an interest is based that of a maarim. This,
therefore, is morally good only in case it rests simply on the
interest taken in obedience to the law. All three notions, how-
ever, that of a motive, of an interest, and of a maa'im, can be
applied only to finite beings. For they all suppose a limita-
tion of the nature of the being, in that the subjective character
of his choice does not of itself agree with the objective law of
a practical reason; they suppose that the being requires to be
impelled to action by something, because an internal obstacle
opposes itself. Therefore they cannot be applied to the Divine
will.
There is something so singular in the unbounded esteem for
the pure moral law, apart from all advantage, as it is presented
for our obedience by practical reason, the voice of which makes
even the boldest sinner tremble, and compels him to hide him-
self from it (206), that we cannot wonder if we find this influence
of a mere intellectual idea on the feelings quite incomprehen-
sible to speculative reason, and have to be satisfied with seeing
so much of this d priori, that such a feeling is inseparably con-
nected with the conception of the moral law in every finite
rational being. If this feeling of respect were pathological,
and therefore were a feeling of pleasure based on the inner
sense, it would be in vain to try to discover a connexion of it
' [“Jener,” in Rosenkranz's text is an error. We must read either
“jene,” “this respect,” or “jenes,” “this feeling.” Hartenstein adopts
“jenes.”]
[207] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 173
with any idea d priori. But [it'] is a feeling that applies
merely to what is practical, and depends on the conception of
a law, simply as to its form, not on account of any object, and
therefore cannot be reckoned either as pleasure or pain, and yet
produces an interest in obedience to the law, which we call the
moral interest, just as the capacity of taking such an interest in
the law (or respect for the moral law itself) is properly the moral
feeling [or Sentiment).
The consciousness of a free submission of the will to the law,
yet combined with an inevitable constraint put upon all incli-
nations, though only by our own reason, is respect for the law.
The law that demands this respect and inspires it is clearly no
other than the moral (for no other precludes all inclinations
from exercising any direct influence on the will). An action
which is objectively practical according to this law, to the exclu-
sion of every determining principle of inclination, is duty, and
this by reason of that exclusion includes in its concept prac-
tical obligation, that is, a determination to actions, however
Teluctantly they may be done. The feeling that arises from
the consciousness of this obligation is not pathological, as
would be a feeling produced by an object of the senses, but
practical only, that is, it is made possible by a preceding (207)
(objective) determination of the will and a causality of the
reason. As submission to the law, therefore, that is, as a com-
mand (announcing constraint for the sensibly affected subject),
it contains in it no pleasure, but on the contrary, so far, pain
in the action. On the other hand, however, as this constraint
is exercised merely by the legislation of our own reason, it also
contains something elevating, and this subjective effect on feel-
ing, inasmuch as pure practical reason is the sole cause of it,
may be called in this respect self-approbation, since we recog-
nize ourselves as determined thereto solely by the law without
any interest, and are now conscious of a quite different interest
subjectively produced thereby, and which is purely practical and
"[The original sentence is incomplete. I have completed it in what
seems the simplest way.]
174 THE ANALYTIC OF [208]
free ; and our taking this interest in an action of duty is not
suggested by any inclination, but is commanded and actually
brought about by reason through the practical law; whence
this feeling obtains a special name, that of respect.
The notion of duty, therefore, requires in the action, objec-
| tively, agreement with the law, and, subjectively in its maxim,
that respect for the law shall be the sole mode in which the
will is determined thereby. And on this rests the distinction
between the consciousness of having acted according to duty and
from duty, that is, from respect for the law. The former (lega-
/ity) is possible even if 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 the law."
(208) It is of the greatest importance to attend with the
utmost exactness in all moral judgments to the subjective
principle of all maxims, that all the morality of actions may
be placed in the necessity of acting from duty and from respect
for the law, not from love and inclination for that which the
actions are to produce. For men and all created rational beings
moral necessity is constraint, that is obligation, and every action
based on it is to be conceived as a duty, not as a proceeding
previously pleasing, or likely to be pleasing to us of our own
accord. As if indeed we could ever bring it about that with-
out respect for the law, which implies fear, or at least appre-
hension of transgression, we of ourselves, like the independent
Deity, could ever come into possession of holiness of will by the
coincidence of our will with the pure moral law becoming as it
were part of our nature, never to be shaken (in which case the
1 If we examine accurately the notion of respect for persons as it has
been already laid down, we shall perceive that it always rests on the con-
sciousness of a duty which an example shows us, and that respect therefore
can never have any but a moral ground, and that it is very good and even,
in a psychological point of view, very useful for the knowledge of mankind,
that whenever we use this expression we should attend to this secret and
marvellous, yet often recurring, regard which men in their judgment pay to
the moral law.
[209–210] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 175
law would cease to be a command for us, as we could never be
tempted to be untrue to it).
The moral law is in fact for the will of a perfect being a
law of holiness, but for the will of every finite rational being a
law of duty, of moral constraint, and of the determination of its
actions by respect for this law and reverence for its duty. No
other subjective principle must be assumed as a motive, else
while the action might chance to be such as the law prescribes,
yet as it does not proceed from duty, the intention, which is the
thing properly in question in this legislation, is not moral.
(209) It is a very beautiful thing to do good to men from
love to them and from sympathetic good will, or to be just from
love of order; but this is not yet the true moral maxim of our
conduct which is suitable to our position amongst rational beings
as men, when we pretend with fanciful pride to set ourselves
above the thought of duty, like volunteers, and, as if we were
independent on the command, to want to 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 not
forget our subjection to it, nor withdraw anything therefrom,
or by an egotistic presumption diminish aught of the authority
of the law (although our own reason gives it) so as to set the
determining principle of our will, even though the law be con-
formed to, anywhere else but in the law itself and in respect
for this law. Duty and obligation are the only names that we
must give to our relation to the moral law. We are indeed
legislative members of a moral kingdom rendered possible by
freedom, and presented to us by reason as an object of respect;
but yet we are subjects in it, not the Sovereign, and to mistake
our inferior position as creatures and presumptuously to reject
the authority of the moral law is already to revolt from it in
spirit, even though the letter of it is fulfilled.
With this agrees very well the possibility of such a com-
mand as : Love God above everything, and thy neighbour as thy-
self". For as a command it requires respect for a law (210)
* This law is in striking contrast with the principle of private happiness
176 THE ANALYTIC OF [21]]
which commands love and does not leave it to our own ar-
bitrary choice to make this our principle. Tove to God,
however, considered as an inclination (pathological love), is
impossible, for He is not an object of the senses. The same
affection towards men is possible no doubt, but cannot be com-
manded, for it is not in the power of any man to love anyone
at command; therefore it is only practical love that is meant in
that pith of all laws. To love God means, in this sense, to like
to do His commandments; to love one’s neighbour means to
like to practise all duties towards him. But the command that
makes this a rule cannot command us to have this disposition in
actions conformed to duty, but only to endeavour after it. For
a command to like to do a thing is in itself contradictory,
because if we already know of ourselves what we are bound
to do, and if further we are conscious of liking to do it, a com-
mand would be quite needless ; and if we do it not willingly,
but only out of respect for the law, a command that makes this
respect the motive of our maxim would directly counteract the
disposition commanded. That law of all laws, therefore, like
all the moral precepts of the Gospel, exhibits the moral disposition
in all its perfection, in which, viewed as an Ideal of holiness,
it is not attainable by any creature, but yet is the pattern
which we should strive to approach, and in an uninterrupted
but infinite progress become like to. In fact, if a rational
creature could ever reach this point, that he thoroughly likes
to do all moral laws, this would mean that there does not exist
in him even the possibility of a desire that would tempt him
to deviate from them ; for to overcome such a desire always
costs the subject some sacrifice, and therefore requires self-
compulsion, that is, inward constraint to something that one
does not quite like to do; and no creature can ever reach this
stage of moral disposition (211). For, being a creature, and
therefore always dependent with respect to what he requires
which some make the Supreme principle of morality. This would be ex-
pressed thus: Love thyself above everything, and God and thy neighbour for
thine own sake.
[211] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 177
for complete satisfaction, he can never be quite free from
desires and inclinations, and as these rest on physical causes,
they can never of themselves coincide with the moral law, the
sources of which are quite different; and therefore they make it
necessary to found the mental disposition of one’s maxims on
moral obligation, not on ready inclination, but on respect,
which demands obedience to the law, even though one may
not like it ; not on love, which apprehends no inward reluc-
tance of the will towards the law. Nevertheless, this latter,
namely, love to the law (which would then cease to be a com-
mand, and then morality, which would have passed subjectively
into holiness, would cease to be virtue), must be the constant
though unattainable goal of his endeavours. For in the case
of what we highly esteem, but yet (on account of the conscious-
ness of our weakness) dread, theincreased facility of satisfying it
changes the most reverential awe into inclination, and respect into
love : at least this would be the perfection of a disposition devoted
to the law, if it were possible for a creature to attain it.”

* [Compare Butler:-‘‘Though we should suppose it impossible for ºl
cular affections to be absolutely coincident with the moral principle, and
consequently should allow that such creatures . . . would for ever remain
defectible; yet their danger of actually deviating from right may be a'most
infinitely lessened, and they fully fortified against what remains of it—if
that may be called danger against which there is an adequate effectual
security.”—Analogy, Fitzgerald's Ed., p. 100.]
* [What renders this discussion not irrelevant is the fact that the
German language, like the English, possesses but one word to express
pixely, & yarāv, and épáv. The first, pixelv, expresses the love of affection.
The general good-will due from man to man had no name in classical Greek;
it is described in one aspect of it by Aristotle as pixta &vev tá00vs kal too
grépyely (Eth. Nic. iv. 6, 5); elsewhere, however, he calls it simply pixta
(viii. 11, 7). The verb &yatéo was used by the LXX in the precept quoted
in the text, though elsewhere they employed it as = Épāv. But in the New
Test. the verb, and with it the noun &yárm (which is not found in classical
writers), were appropriated to this state of mind. Aristotle, it may be
observed, uses &yarów, of love to one's own better part (ix. 8, 6). 'Epāv
does not occur in the New Test, at all. Butler's Sermons on Love of our
Neighbour, and Love of God, may be usefully compared with these obser-
vations of Kant.]
N
178 THE ANALYTIC OF [212]
This reflection is intended not so much to clear up the
evangelical command just cited, in order to prevent religious
fanaticism in regard to love of God, but to define accurately
the moral disposition with regard directly to our duties towards
men, and to check, or if possible prevent, a merely moral fanati-
cism which infects many persons. The stage of morality on
which man (and, as far as we can see, every rational creature)
stands is respect for the moral law. The disposition that he
ought to have in obeying this is to obey it from duty, not from
spontaneous (212) inclination, or from an endeavour taken up
from liking and unbidden; and this proper moral condition in
which he can always be is virtue, that is, moral disposition
/militant, and not holiness in the fancied possession of a perfect
purity of the disposition of the will. It is nothing but moral
fanaticism and exaggerated self-conceit that is infused into the
mind by exhortation to actions as noble, Sublime, and mag-
manimous, 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 reason itself imposes it on us) they must
bear, whether they like it or not, that constitutes the deter-
mining principle of their actions, and which always humbles
them while they obey it ; fancying that those actions are ex-
pected from them, not from duty, but as pure merit. For not
only would they, in imitating such deeds from such a principle
not have fulfilled the spirit of the law in the least, which con-
sists not in the legality of the action (without regard to prin-
ciple), but in the subjection of the mind to the law; not only
do they make the motives pathological (seated in sympathy or
self-love), not moral (in the law), but they produce in this way
a vain high-flying fantastic way of thinking, flattering them-
sclves with a spontaneous goodness of heart that needs neither
spur nor bridle, for which no command is needed, and thereby
forgetting their obligation, which they ought to think of rather
than merit. Indeed actions of others which are done with great
Sacrifice, and merely for the sake of duty, may be praised as
noble and sublime, but only so far as there are traces which
suggest that they were done wholly out of respect for duty
[213–214] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 179
and not from excited feelings (213). If these, however, are set
before anyone as examples to be imitated, respect for duty
(which is the only true moral feeling) must be employed as
the motive—this severe holy precept which never allows our
vain self-love to dally with pathological impulses (however
analogous they may be to morality) and to take a pride in
meritorious worth. Now if we search we shall find for all
actions that are worthy of praise a law of duty which com-
mands, and does not leave us to choose what may be agree-
able to our inclinations. This is the only way of representing
things that can give a moral training to the soul, because it
alone is capable of solid and accurately defined principles.
If fanaticism in its most general sense is a deliberate over-
stepping of the limits of human reason, then moral fanaticism
is such an overstepping of the bounds that practical pure reason
sets to mankind, in that it forbids us to place the subjective
determining principle of correct actions, that is, their moral
motive, in anything but the law itself, or to place the disposition
which is thereby brought into the maxims in anything but
respect for this law, and hence commands us to take as the
Supreme vital principle of all morality in men the thought of
duty, which strikes down all arrogance as well as vain Self-love.
If this is so, it is not only writers of romance or sentimental
educators (although they may be zealous opponents of senti-
mentalism), but sometimes even philosophers; nay, even the
Severest of all, the Stoics, that have brought in moral fanaticism
instead of a sober but wise moral discipline, although the fana-
ticism of the latter was more heroic, that of the former of an
insipid, effeminate character; and we may, without hypocrisy,
say of the moral teaching of the Gospel (214), that it first, by
the purity of its moral principle, and at the same time by its
suitability to the limitations of finite beings, brought all the
good conduct of men under the discipline of a duty plainly set
before their eyes, which does not permit them to indulge in
dreams of imaginary moral perfections; and that it also set the
bounds of humility (that is, self-knowledge) to self-conceit as
well as to self-love, both which are ready to mistake their limits.
IN 2
180 THE ANALYTIC OF [215]
Duty / Thou sublime and mighty name that dost embrace
nothing charming or insinuating, but requirest submission, and
yet seekest not to move the will by threatening aught that
would arouse natural aversion or terror, but merely holdest
forth a law which of itself finds entrance into the mind, and
yet gains reluctant reverence (though not always obedience),
a law before which all inclinations are dumb, even though they
secretly counter-work it ; what origin is there worthy of thee,
and where is to be found the root of thy noble descent which
proudly rejects all kindred with the inclinations; a root to be
derived from which is the indispensable condition of the only
worth which men can give themselves P
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 with an order of things that only the understand-
ing can conceive, with a world which at the same time commands
the whole sensible world, and with it the empirically determin-
able existence of man in time, as well as the sum total of all
ends (which totality alone suits such unconditional practical
laws as the moral). This power is nothing but personality, that
is, freedom and independence on the mechanism of nature, yet,
regarded also as a faculty of a being which is subject to special
laws, namely, pure practical laws given by its own reason (215);
so that the person as belonging to the sensible world is subject
to his own personality as belonging to the intelligible [super-
sensible] world. It is then not to be wondered at that man, as
belonging to both worlds, must regard his own nature in refe-
rence to its second and highest characteristic only with reverence,
and its laws with the highest respect.
On this origin are founded many expressions which designate
the worth of objects according to moral ideas. The moral law
is holy (inviolable). Man is indeed unholy enough, but he must
regard humanity in his own person as holy. In all creation
every thing one chooses, and over which one has any power,
may be used merely as means; man alone, and with him every
rational creature, is an end in himself. By virtue of the auto-
nomy of his freedom he is the subject of the moral law, which
[216] PUTE PRACTICAL REASON. 181
is holy. Just for this reason every will, even every person’s
own individual will, in relation to itself, is restricted to the
condition of agreement with the autonomy of the rational being,
that is to say, that it is not to be subject to any purpose which
cannot accord with a law which might arise from the will of
the passive subject himself; the latter is, therefore, never to be
employed merely as means, but as itself also, concurrently, an
end. We justly attribute this condition even to the Divine
will, with regard to the rational beings in the world, which
are His creatures, since it rests on their personality, by which
alone they are ends in themselves.
This respect-inspiring idea of personality which sets before
our eyes the sublimity of our nature (in its higher aspect),
while at the same time it shows us the want of accord of Our
conduct with it, and thereby strikes down self-conceit, is even
natural to the commonest reason, and easily observed (216). Has
not every even moderately honourable man sometimes found
that, where by an otherwise inoffensive lie he might either have
withdrawn himself from an unpleasant business, or even have
procured some advantages for a loved and well-deserving friend,
he has avoided it solely lest he should despise himself secretly
in his own eyes? When an upright man is in the greatest
distress, which he might have avoided if he could only have
disregarded duty, is he not sustained by the consciousness that
he has maintained humanity in its proper dignity in his own
person and honoured it, that he has no reason to be ashamed of
himself in his own sight, or to dread the inward glance of self-
examination ? This consolation is not happiness, it is not even
the Smallest part of it, for no one would wish to have occasion
for it, or would, perhaps, even desire a life in such circum-
stances. But he lives, and he cannot endure that he should be
in his own eyes unworthy of life. This inward peace is there-
fore merely negative as regards what can make life pleasant; it
is, in fact, only the escaping the danger of sinking in personal
worth, after everything else that is valuable has been lost. It
is the effect of a respect for something quite different from life,
something in comparison and contrast with which life with all
182 THE ANALYTIC OF [217–218.]
its enjoyment has no value. He still lives only because it is
his duty, not because he finds anything pleasant in life.
Such is the nature of the true motive of pure practical
reason ; it is no other than the pure moral law itself, inasmuch
as it makes us conscious of the sublimity of our own super-
sensible existence, and subjectively (217) produces respect for
their higher nature in men who are also conscious of their
sensible existence and of the consequent dependence of their
pathologically very susceptible nature. Now with this motive
may be combined so many charms and satisfactions of life, that
even on this account alone the most prudent choice of a rational
Epicurean reflecting on the greatest advantage of life would
declare itself on the side of moral conduct, and it may even be
advisable to join this prospect of a cheerful enjoyment of life
with that supreme motive which is already sufficient of itself;
but only as a counterpoise to the attractions which vice does not
fail to exhibit on the opposite side, and not so as, even in the
smallest degree, to place in this the proper moving power when
duty is in question. For that would be just the same as to
wish to taint the purity of the moral disposition in its source.
The majesty of duty has nothing to do with enjoyment of life;
it has its special law and its special tribunal, and though the
two should be never so well shaken together to be given well
mixed, like medicine, to the sick soul, yet they will soon
separate of themselves, and if they do not the former will not
act ; and although physical life might gain somewhat in force,
the moral life would fade away irrecoverably.
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
and proof why it must have this and no other systematic
form (218), when we compare it with another system which is
based on a similar faculty of knowledge. Now practical and
speculative reason are based on the same faculty, so far as both
[219] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 183
are pure reason. Therefore the difference in 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
knowledge of such objects as may have been given to the
understanding, and was obliged therefore to begin from intuition,
and consequently (as this is always sensible) from sensibility;
and only after that could advance to concepts (of the objects of
this intuition), and could only end with principles after both
these had preceded. On the contrary, since practical reason
has not to do with objects so as to know them, but with its own
faculty of realizing them (in accordance with the 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 as practical reason
has to furnish only a law (because the notion of causality
always implies the reference to a law which determines the
existence of the many in relation to one another); hence a
critical examination of the Analytic of reason, if this is to be
practical reason (and this is properly the problem), must begin
with the possibility of practical principles d priori. Only after
that can it proceed to concepts of the objects of a practical
reason, namely, those of absolute good and evil, in order to
assign them in accordance with those principles (for prior to
those principles they cannot possibly be given as good and evil
by any faculty of knowledge, and only then could the section
be concluded with the last chapter, that, namely, which treats of
the relation of the pure practical reason to the sensibility (219) and
of its necessary influence thereon, which is d priori cognisable,
that is, of the moral sentiment. Thus the Analytic of the prac-
tical pure reason has the whole extent of the conditions of its
use in common with the theoretical, but in reverse order. The
Analytic of pure theoretic reason was divided into transcen-
dental Aesthetic and transcendental Logic, that of the practical
reversely into Logic and Aesthetic of pure practical reason (if
I may, for the sake of analogy merely, use these designations,
which are not quite suitable). This logic again was there
184 THE ANALYTIC OF [220]
divided into the Analytic of concepts and that of principles:
here into that of principles and concepts. The Aesthetic also
had in the former case two parts, on account of the two kinds
of sensible intuition; here the sensibility is not considered as
a capacity of intuition at all, but merely as feeling (which can
be a subjective ground of desire), and in regard to it pure
practical reason admits no further division.
It is also easy to see the reason why this division into two
parts with its subdivision was not actually adopted here (as one
might have been induced to attempt by the example of the
former critique). For since it is pure reason that is here con-
sidered in its practical use, and consequently as proceeding from
d priori principles, and not from empirical principles of deter-
mination, hence the division of the analytic of pure practical
reason must resemble that of a syllogism, namely, proceeding
from the universal in the major premiss (the moral principle),
through a minor premiss containing a subsumption of possible
actions (as good or evil) under the former, to the conclusion,
namely, the subjective determination of the will (an interest in
the possible practical good, and in the maxim founded on it).
He who has been able to convince himself of the truth of the
positions occurring in the Analytic (220) will take pleasure in
such comparisons; for they justly suggest the expectation that
we may perhaps some day be able to discern the unity of the
whole faculty of reason (theoretical as well as practical), and be
able to derive all from one principle, which is what human
reason inevitably demands, as it finds complete satisfaction only
in a perfectly systematic unity of its knowledge.
If now we consider also the contents of the knowledge that
we can have of a pure practical reason, and by means of it, as
shown by the Analytic, we find, along with a remarkable
analogy between it and the theoretical, no less remarkable
differences. As regards the theoretical, the faculty of a pure
rational cognition d priori could be easily and evidently proved
by examples from sciences (in which, as they put their prin-
ciples to the test in so many ways by methodical use, there is
not so much reason as in common knowledge to fear a Secret
[221] Pluſ RE PRACTICAL REASON. 185
mixture of empirical principles of cognition). But, that pure
reason without the admixture of any empirical principle is
practical of itself, this could only be shown from the com-
monest practical use of reason by verifying the fact, that every
man’s natural reason acknowledges the supreme practical prin-
ciple as the Supreme law of his will, a law completely d priori,
and not depending on any sensible data. It was necessary first
to establish and verify the purity of its origin, even in the judg-
ment of this common reason, before science could take it in hand
to make use of it as a fact, that is, prior to all disputation about
its possibility, and all the consequences that may be drawn from
it. But this circumstance may be readily explained from what
has just been said (221); because practical pure reason must
necessarily begin with principles, which therefore must be the
first data, the foundation of all science, and cannot be derived
from it. It was possible to effect this verification of moral
principles as principles of a pure reason quite well, and with
sufficient certainty, by a single appeal to the judgment of com-
mon sense, for this reason, that anything empirical which might
slip into our maxims as a determining principle of the will can
be detected at once by the feeling of pleasure or pain which
necessarily attaches to it as exciting desire ; whereas pure prac-
tical reason positively refuses to admit this feeling into its prin-
ciple as a condition. The heterogeneity of the determining
principles (the empirical and rational) is clearly detected by
this resistance of a practically legislating reason against every
admixture of inclination, and by a peculiar kind of sentiment,
which, however, does not precede the legislation of the practical
reason, but, on the contrary, is produced by this as a constraint,
namely, by the feeling of a respect such as no man has for incli-
nations of whatever kind but for the law only; and it is detected
in so marked and prominent a manner that even the most unin-
structed cannot fail to see at once in an example presented to
him, that empirical principles of volition may indeed urge him
to follow their attractions, but that he can never be expected to
obey anything but the pure practical law of reason alone.
The distinction between the doctrine of happiness and the
186 THE ANALYTIC OF [222–223]
doctrine of morality [ethics], in the former of which empirical
principles constitute the entire foundation, while in the second
they do not form the smallest part of it, is the first and most
important office of the analytic of pure practical reason; and
it must proceed in it with as much exactness (222) and, so to
speak, Scrupulousness, as any geometer in his work. The philo-
sopher, however, has greater difficulties to contend with here
(as always in rational cognition by means of concepts merely
without construction), because he cannot take any intuition as
a foundation (for a pure noumenon). He has, however, this
advantage that, like the chemist, he can at any time make an
experiment with every man’s practical reason for the purpose of
distinguishing the moral (pure) principle of determination from
the empirical, namely, by adding the moral law (as a determin-
ing principle) to the empirically affected will (e.g. that of the
man who would be ready to lie because he can gain something
thereby). It is as if the analyst added alkali to a solution of
lime in hydrochloric acid, 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 is otherwise honest (or who for
this occasion places himself only in thought in the position of
an honest man), we present the moral law by which he recog-
nizes the worthlessness of the liar, his practical reason (in form-
ing a judgment of what ought to be done) at Once forsakes the
advantage, combines with that which maintains in him respect
for his own person (truthfulness), and the advantage after it has
been separated and washed from every particle of reason (which
is altogether on the side of duty) is easily weighed by everyone,
so that it can enter into combination with reason in other cases,
only not where it could be opposed to the moral law, which
reason never forsakes, but most closely unites itself with.
But it does not follow that this distinction between the prin-
ciple of happiness and that of morality is an opposition between
them, and pure practical reason does not require that we should
Tenounce all claim to happiness, but only that the moment duty
is in question we should take no account of happiness (223). It
may even in certain respects be a duty to provide for happiness;
|224| FURE PRACTICAL REASON. 187
partly, because (including skill, wealth, riches) it contains means
for the fulfilment of our duty; partly, because the absence of it
(e.g. poverty) implies temptations to transgress our duty. But
it can never be an immediate duty to promote our happiness,
still less can it be the principle of all duty. Now, as all deter-
mining principles of the will, except the law of pure practical
reason alone (the moral law), are all empirical, and therefore, as
such, belong to the principle of happiness, they must all be kept
apart from the Supreme principle of morality, and never be in-
corporated with it as a condition; since this would be to destroy
all moral worth just as much as any empirical admixture with
geometrical principles would destroy the certainty of mathema-
tical evidence, which in Plato's opinion is the most excellent
thing in mathematics, even surpassing their utility.
Instead, however, of the Deduction of the supreme principle
of pure practical reason, that is, the explanation of the possi-
bility of such a knowledge d priori, the utmost we were able to
do was to show that if we saw the possibility of the freedom of
an efficient cause, we should also see not merely the possibility,
but even the necessity of the moral law as the supreme practical
law of rational beings, to whom we attribute freedom of cau-
sality of their will ; because both concepts are so inseparably
united, that we might define practical freedom as independence
of the will on anything but the moral law. But we cannot
perceive the possibility of the freedom of an efficient cause,
especially in the world of sense ; we are fortunate if only we
can be sufficiently assured that there is no proof of its impos-
sibility, and are now by the moral law which postulates it com-
pelled (224), and therefore authorized to assume it. However,
there are still many who think that they can explain this free-
dom on empirical principles, like any other physical faculty,
and treat it as a psychological property, the explanation of which
only requires a more exact study of the nature of the soul and of
the motives of the will, and not as a transcendental predicate of
the causality of a being that belongs to the world of sense (which
is really the point). They thus deprive us of the grand revela-
tion which we obtain through practical reason by means of the
188 THE ANALYTIC OF [225]
moral law, the revelation, namely, of a supersensible world by
the realization of the otherwise transcendent concept of freedom,
and by this deprive us also of the moral law itself, which admits
no empirical principle of determination. Therefore it will be
necessary to add something here as a protection against this
delusion, and to exhibit empiricism in its naked superficiality.
The notion of causality as physical necessity, in opposition to
the same notion as freedom, concerns only the existence of things
So far as it is determinable in time, and, consequently, as pheno-
mena, in opposition to their causality as things in themselves.
Now if we take the attributes of existence of things in time for
attributes of things in themselves (which is the common view),
then it is impossible to reconcile the necessity of the causal rela-
tion with freedom; they are contradictory. For from the former
it follows that every event, and consequently every action that
takes place at a certain point of time, is a necessary result of
what existed in time preceding. Now as time past is no longer
in my power, hence every action that I perform must be the
necessary result of certain determining grounds which are not in
*/ power, that is, at the moment in which I am acting I am
never free (225). Nay, even if I assume that my whole exis-
tence is independent on any foreign cause (for instance, God),
so that the determining principles of my causality, and even of
my whole existence, were not outside myself, yet this would not
in the least transform that physical necessity into freedom. For
at every moment of time I am still under the necessity of being
determined to action by that which is not in my power, and the
Series of events infinite a parte priori which I only continue
according to a pre-determined order, and could never begin of
myself, would be a continuous physical chain, and therefore my
causality would never be freedom.
If then we would attribute freedom to a being whose exis-
tence is determined in time, we cannot except him from the law
of necessity as to all events in his existence, and consequently as
to his actions also ; for that would be to hand him over to blind
chance. Now as this law inevitably applies to all the causality
of things, so far as their easistence is determinable in time, it
[226] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 189
follows that if this were the mode in which we had also to
conceive the eaſistence of these things in themselves, freedom must
be rejected as a vain and impossible conception. Consequently,
if we would still save it, no other way remains but to con-
sider that the existence of a thing, so far as it is determinable
in time, and therefore its causality, according to the law of
physical necessity, belong to appearance, and to attribute free-
dom. to the same being as a thing in itself. This is certainly in-
evitable, if we would retain both these contradictory concepts
together; but in application when we try to explain their combi-
nation in one and the same action, great difficulties present them-
Selves which seem to render such a combination impracticable.
(226) When I say of a man who commits a theft that, by the
physical law of causality, this deed is a necessary result of the
determining causes in preceding time, then it was impossible
that it could not have happened; how then can the judgment,
according to the moral law, make any change, and suppose
that it could have been omitted, because the law says that it
ought to have been omitted : that is, how can a man be called
quite free at the same moment, and with respect to the same
action in which he is subject to an inevitable physical necessity ?
Some try to evade this by saying that the causes that determine
his causality are of such a kind as to agree with a comparative
notion of freedom. According to this, that is sometimes called
a free effect, the determining physical cause of which lies within
in the acting thing itself, e.g. that which a projectile performs
when it is in free motion, in which case we use the word free-
dom, because while it is in flight it is not urged by anything
external; or as we call the motion of a clock a free motion,
because it moves its hands itself, which therefore do not require
to be pushed by external force; so although the actions of man
are necessarily determined by causes which precede in time, we
yet call them free, because these causes are ideas produced by
our own faculties, whereby desires are evoked on occasion of
circumstances, and hence actions are wrought according to our
own pleasure. This is a wretched subterfuge with which some per-
Sons still let themselves be put off, and so think they have solved,
190 THE ANALYTIC OF [227–228]
with a petty word jugglery, that difficult problem, at the solu-
tion of which centuries have laboured in vain, and which can
therefore scarcely be found so completely on the surface. In
"fact, in the question about the freedom which must be the foun-
dation of all moral laws and the consequent responsibility (227),
it does not matter whether the principles which necessarily de-
termine causality by a physical law reside within the subject or
without him, or in the former case whether these principles are
instinctive or are conceived by reason, if, as is admitted by these
men themselves, these determining ideas have the ground of
their existence in time and in the antecedent state, and this
again in an antecedent, &c. Then it matters not that these
are internal; it matters not that they have a psychological
and not a mechanical causality, that is, produce actions by
means of ideas, and not by bodily movements; they are still
determining principles of the causality of a being whose exis-
tence is determinable in time, and therefore under the necessi-
tation of conditions of past time, which therefore, when the
subject has to act, are no longer in his power. This may imply
psychological freedom (if we choose to apply this term to a
merely internal chain of ideas in the mind), but it involves
physical necessity, and therefore leaves no room for transcen-
dental freedom, which must be conceived as independence on
everything empirical, and, consequently, on nature generally,
whether it is an object of the internal sense considered in time
only, or of the external in time and space. Without this free-
dom (in the latter and true sense), which alone is practical d
priori, no moral law and no moral imputation are possible.
just for this reason the necessity of events in time, according
to the physical law of causality, may be called the mechanism
of nature, although we do not mean by this that things which
are subject to it must be really material machines. We look
here only to the necessity of the connexion of events in a time-
series as it is developed according to the physical law, whether
the subject in which (228) this development takes place is called
automaton materiale when the mechanical being is moved by
matter, or with Leibnitz Spirituale when it is impelled by
[229] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 191
ideas; and if the freedom of our will were no other than the
latter (say the psychological and comparative, not also tran-
scendental, that is, absolute), then it would at bottom be no-
thing better than the freedom of a turnspit, which, when once
it is wound up, accomplishes its motions of itself.
Now, in order to remove in the supposed case the apparent
contradiction between freedom and the mechanism of nature in
one and the same action, we must remember what was said in
the Critique of Pure Reason, or what follows therefrom, viz.
that the necessity of nature, which cannot co-exist with the
freedom of the subject, appertains only to the attributes of the
thing that is subject to time-conditions, consequently only to
those of the acting subject as a phenomenon; that therefore in
this respect the determining principles of every action of the
same reside in what belongs to past time, and is no longer in his
power (in which must be included his own past actions and the
character that these may determine for him in his own eyes as
a phenomenon). But the very same subject being on the other
side conscious of himself as a thing in himself, considers his
existence also in so far as it is not subject to time-conditions, and
regards himself as only determinable by laws which he gives
himself through reason; and in this his existence nothing is
antecedent to the determination of his will, but every action,
and in general every modification of his existence, varying
according to his internal sense, even the whole series of his
existence as a sensible being, is in the consciousness of his
superSensible existence nothing but the result, and never to
be regarded as the determining principle, of his causality as
a noumenon. In this view now the rational being can justly
say of every unlawful action that he performs (229), that he
could very well have left it undone; although as appearance
it is sufficiently determined in the past, and in this respect is
absolutely necessary; for it, with all the past which deter-
mines it, belongs to the one single phenomenon of his cha-
racter which he makes for himself, in consequence of which he
* [Read “demen” not “dem.”]
192 THE ANALYTIC OF [230]
imputes the causality of those appearances to himself as a cause
independent on sensibility.
With this agree perfectly the judicial sentences of that
wonderful faculty in us which we call conscience." A man
may use as much art as he likes in order to paint to himself an
unlawful act that he remembers, as an unintentional error, a
mere oversight, such as one can never altogether avoid, and
therefore as something in which he was carried away by the
stream of physical necessity, and thus to make himself out
innocent, yet he finds that the advocate who speaks in his
favour can by no means silence the accuser within, if only he
is conscious that at the time when he did this wrong he was in
his senses, that is, in possession of his freedom ; and, neverthe-
less, he accounts for his error from some bad habits, which by
gradual neglect of attention he has allowed to grow upon him
to such a degree that he can regard his error as its natural
consequence, although this cannot protect him from the blame
and reproach which he casts upon himself. This is also the
ground of repentance for a long past action at every recollection
of it; a painful feeling produced by the moral sentiment, and
which is practically void in so far as it cannot serve to undo
what has been done. (Hence Priestley, as a true and consistent
fatalist, declares it absurd, and he deserves to be commended
for this candour more than those who, while they maintain
the mechanism of the will in fact, and its freedom in words
only (230), yet wish it to be thought that they include it in their
system of compromise, although they do not explain the pos-
sibility of such moral imputation.) But the pain is quite
legitimate, because when the law of our intelligible [super-
sensible] existence (the moral law) is in question, reason
recognizes no distinction of time, and only asks whether
the event belongs to me, as my act, and then always morally
connects the same feeling with it, whether it has happened
just now or long ago. For in reference to the supersensible
consciousness of its existence (i. e. freedom) the life of sense is
* [See note on Conscience.]
[231] BUIRE PRACTICAL REASON. 193
but a single phenomenon, which, inasmuch as it contains
merely manifestations of the mental disposition with regard
to the moral law (i. e. Of the character), must be judged not
according to the physical necessity that belongs to it as phe-
nomenon, but according to the absolute spontaneity of freedom.
It may therefore be admitted that if it were possible to have so
profound an insight into a man’s mental character as shown by
internal as well as external actions, as to know all its motives,
even the Smallest, and likewise all the external occasions that
can influence them, we could calculate a man’s conduct for the
future with as great certainty as a lunar or solar eclipse; and
nevertheless we may maintain that the man is free. In fact, if
we were capable of a further glance, namely, an intellectual
intuition of the same subject (which indeed is not granted to
us, and instead of it we have only the rational concept), then
we should perceive that this whole chain of appearances in
regard to all that concerns the moral laws depends on the
spontaneity of the subject as a thing in itself, of the determina-
tion of which no physical explanation can be given. In default
of this intuition the moral law assures us of this distinction
between the relation of our actions (231) as appearances to our
sensible nature, and the relation of this sensible nature to the
superSensible substratum in us. In this view, which is natural
to our reason, though inexplicable, we can also justify some
judgments which we passed with all conscientiousness, and
which yet at first sight seem quite opposed to all equity. There
are cases in which men, even with the same education which has
been profitable to others, yet show such early depravity, and so
continue to progress in it to years of manhood, that they are
thought to be born villains, and their character altogether
incapable of improvement; and nevertheless they are judged
for what they do or leave undone, they are reproached for their
faults as guilty; nay, they themselves (the children) regard
these reproaches as well founded, exactly as if in spite of the
hopeless natural quality of mind ascribed to them, they re-
mained just as responsible as any other man. This could not
happen if we did not suppose that whatever springs from a
O
194 THE ANALYTIC OF [232]
man’s choice (as every action intentionally performed undoubt-
edly does) has as its foundation a free causality, which from
early youth expresses its character in its manifestations (i. e.
actions). These, on account of the uniformity of conduct,
exhibit a natural connexion, which however does not make the
vicious quality of the will necessary, but, on the contrary, is the
consequence of the evil principles voluntarily adopted and un-
changeable, which only make it so much the more culpable and
deserving of punishment. There still remains a difficulty in
the combination of freedom with the mechanism of nature in a
being belonging to the world of sense: a difficulty which, even
after all the foregoing is admitted, threatens freedom with com-
plete destruction (232). But with this danger there is also a
circumstance that offers hope of an issue still favourable to
freedom, namely, that the same difficulty presses much more
strongly (in fact as we shall presently see, presses only) on the
system that holds the existence determinable in time and space
to be the existence of things in themselves; it does not there-
fore oblige us to give up' our capital supposition of the ideality
of time as a mere form of sensible intuition, and consequently
as a mere manner of representation which is proper to the
subject as belonging to the world of sense; and therefore it
only requires that this view be reconciled with this idea [of
freedom]. -
The difficulty is as follows:—Even if it is admitted that the
supersensible subject can be free with respect to a given action,
although as a subject also belonging to the world of sense, he is
under mechanical conditions with respect to the same action;
still, as soon as we allow that God as universal first cause is also
the cause of the easistence of substance (a proposition which can
never be given up without at the same time giving up the
notion of God as the Being of all beings, and therewith giving
up his all sufficiency, on which everything in theology depends),
it seems as if we must admit that a man’s actions have their
determining principle in Something which is wholly out of his
' [Reading “aufzugeben.”]
[233] . PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 195
power, namely, in the causality of a Supreme Being distinct
from himself, and on whom his own existence and the whole
determination of his causality are absolutely dependent. In
point of fact, if a man's actions as belonging to his modifications
in time were not merely modifications of him as appearance,
but as a thing in itself, freedom could not be saved. Man
would be a marionette or an automaton, like Waucanson's,"
prepared and wound up by the Supreme Artist. Self-conscious-
ness would indeed make him a thinking automaton ; but the
consciousness of his own spontaneity would be mere delusion if
this were mistaken for freedom (233), and it would deserve this
name only in a comparative sense, since, although the proximate
determining causes of its motion, and a long series of their
determining causes are internal, yet the last and highest is
found in a foreign hand. Therefore I do not see how those
who still insist on regarding time and space as attributes
belonging to the existence of things in themselves, can avoid
admitting the fatality of actions; or if (like the otherwise acute
Mendelssohn)* they allow them to be conditions necessarily
belonging to the existence of finite and derived beings, but not
£o that of the infinite Supreme Being, I do not see on what
ground they can justify such a distinction, Or, indeed, how they
can avoid the contradiction that meets them, when they hold
that existence in time is an attribute necessarily belonging to
finite things in themselves, whereas God is the cause of this
existence, but cannot be the cause of time (or space) itself (since
this must [on this hypothesis] be presupposed as a necessary
* [Vaucanson constructed an automaton flute-player, which imitated
accurately the movements and the effects of a genuine performer, and sub-
sequently a mechanical duck which Swam, dived, quacked, took barley from
the hand, ate, drank, digested, dressed its wings, etc., quite naturally.
This was exhibited in Paris in 1741. These automata are described by
D'Alembert in the Encyclopédie, Arts. Androide and Automata ; cf. also
Condorcet, Eloges, tom. i., p. 643, ed. 1847.]
* [Moses Mendelssohn, a distinguished philosopher, grandfather of the
musical composer. He is said to have been the prototype of Lessing's Nathan
der Weise.]
O 2
196 THE ANALYTIC OF [234]
d priori condition of the existence of things); and consequently
as regards the existence of these things his causality must be
subject to conditions, and even to the condition of time; and
this would inevitably bring in everything contradictory to the
notions of his infinity and independence. On the other hand,
it is quite easy for us to draw the distinction between the
attribute of the divine existence of being independent on all
time-conditions, and that of a being of the world of sense, the
distinction being that between the easistence of a being in itself
and that of a thing in appearance. Hence, if this ideality of
time and space is not adopted, nothing remains but Spinozism, ”
in which space and time are essential attributes of the Supreme
Being Himself, and the things dependent on Him (ourselves,
therefore, included) are not substances, but merely accidents
inhering in Him; since, if these things as his effects (234) exist
*n time only, this being the condition of their existence in them-
selves, then the actions of these beings must be simply his
actions which he performs in some place and time. Thus,
Spinozism, in spite of the absurdity of its fundamental idea,
argues more consistently than the creation theory can, when
beings assumed to be substances, and beings in themselves
earisting in time, are regarded as effects of a Supreme cause, and
yet as not [belonging] to Him and his action, but as separate
substances.
The above-mentioned difficulty is resolved briefly and clearly
as follows:–If existence in time is a mere sensible mode of
representation belonging to thinking beings in the world, and
consequently does not apply to them as things in themselves,
then the creation of these beings is a creation of things in them-
selves, since the notion of creation does not belong to the
sensible form of representation of existence or to causality, but
can only be referred to noumena. Consequently, when I say of
beings in the world of sense that they are created, I so far
regard them as noumena. As it would be a contradiction, there-
fore, to say that God is a creator of appearances, so also it is a
contradiction to say that as creator He is the cause of actions in
the world of Sense, and therefore as appearances, although He
[235–236] FURE PRACTICAL REASON. 197
is the cause of the existence of the acting beings (which are
noumena). If now it is possible to affirm freedom in spite of
the natural mechanism of actions as appearances (by regarding
existence in time as something that belongs only to appearances,
not to things in themselves), then the circumstance that the
acting beings are creatures cannot make the slightest difference,
since creation concerns their supersensible and not their sensible
existence, and therefore cannot be regarded as the determining
principle of the appearances. It would be quite different if the
beings in the world as things in themselves (235) existed in time,
since in that case the creator of substance would be at the same
time the author of the whole mechanism of this substance.
Of so great importance is the separation of time (as well as
space) from the existence of things in themselves which was
effected in the Critique of the Pure Speculative Reason.
It may be said that the solution here proposed involves
great difficulty in itself, and is scarcely susceptible of a lucid
exposition. But is any other solution that has been attempted,
or that may be attempted, easier and more intelligible P Rather
might we say that the dogmatic teachers of metaphysics have
shown more shrewdness than candour in keeping this difficult
point out of sight as much as possible, in the hope that if they
said nothing about it, probably no one would think of it. If
science is to be advanced, all difficulties must be laid open, and
we must even search for those that are hidden, for every diffi-
culty calls forth a remedy, which cannot be discovered without
science gaining either in extent or in exactness; and thus even
obstacles become means of increasing the thoroughness of Science.
On the other hand, if the difficulties are intentionally concealed,
or merely removed by palliatives, then sooner or later they burst
out into incurable mischiefs, which bring science to ruin in an
absolute scepticism.
Since it is, properly speaking, the notion of freedom alone
amongst all the ideas of pure speculative reason that so greatly
enlarges our knowledge in the sphere of the supersensible (286),
though only of our practical knowledge, I ask myself why it
198 THE ANALYTIC OF [236]
t f
exclusively possesses so great fertility, whereas the others only
designate the vacant space for possible beings of the pure under-
standing, but are unable by any means to define the concept of
them. I presently find that as I cannot think anything without
a category, I must first look for a category for the Rational Idea
of freedom with which I am now concerned; and this is the
category of causality; and although freedom, a concept of the
reason, being a transcendent concept, cannot have any intuition
corresponding to it, yet the concept of the understanding—for the
synthesis of which the former" demands the unconditioned—
(namely, the concept of causality) must have a sensible intuition
given, by which first its objective reality is assured. Now, the
categories are all divided into two classes—the mathematica/,
which concern the unity of synthesis in the conception of
objects, and the dynamical, which refer to the unity of synthesis
in the conception of the existence of objects. The former (those
of magnitude and quality) always contain a synthesis of the
homogeneous, and it is not possible to find in this the uncon-
ditioned antecedent to what is given in sensible intuition as
conditioned in space and time, as this would itself have to
belong to space and time, and therefore be again still con-
ditioned.” Whence it resulted in the Dialectic of Pure Theoretic
Reason that the opposite methods of attaining the uncon-
ditioned and the totality of the conditions were both wrong.
The categories of the second class (those of causality and of the
necessity of a thing) did not require this homogeneity (of the
conditioned and the condition in synthesis), since here what we
have to explain is not how the intuition is compounded from a
* [The original is somewhat ambiguous; it has been suggested, that ‘the
former’ refers to the Understanding (“Verstand” in ‘Verstandesbegriff’).
I am satisfied that it refers to ‘Vernunftbegriff,’ for it is not the Under-
standing, but the Reason that seeks the unconditioned. Compare Kritik der
IR. V., p. 262 (326). “The transcendental concept of the reason always aims
at absolute totality in the synthesis of the conditions, and never rests except
in the absolutely unconditioned.’ (Meiklejohn, p. 228.)]
2 [Rosenkranz erroneously reads ‘unbedingt’ “unconditioned”; and
‘musste' for ‘misste.’
[237–238] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 199
gº.
manifold in it, but only how the existence of the conditioned
object corresponding to it is added to the existence of the
condition (237) (added, namely, in the understanding as con-
nected therewith); and in that case it was allowable to suppose
in the SuperSensible world the unconditioned antecedent to the
altogether conditioned in the world of sense (both as regards
the causal connexion and the contingent existence of things them-
selves), although this unconditioned remained indeterminate,
and to make the synthesis transcendent. Hence, it was found
in the dialectic of the pure speculative reason that the two
apparently opposite methods of obtaining for the conditioned
the unconditioned were not really contradictory, e. g. in the
Synthesis of causality to conceive for the conditioned in the
Series of causes and effects of the sensible world, a causality
which has no sensible condition, and that the same action which,
as belonging to the world of sense, is always sensibly con-
ditioned, that is, mechanically necessary, yet at the same time
may be derived from a causality not sensibly conditioned—
being the causality of the acting being as belonging to the
superSensible world—and may consequently be conceived as
free. Now, the only point in question was to change this may
be into is; that is, that we should be able to show in an actual
case, as it were by a fact, that certain actions imply such
a causality (namely, the intellectual, sensibly unconditioned),
whether they are actual or only commanded, that is, objectively
necessary in a practical sense. We could not hope to find this
connexion in actions actually given in experience as events of
the sensible world, since causality with freedom must always be
sought outside the world of sense in the world of intelligence.
But things of sense are the only things offered to our perception
and observation. Hence, nothing remained but to find an
incontestable objective principle of causality which excludes all
sensible conditions: that is, a principle in which reason does not
appeal further to something else as a determining ground of its
causality (238), but contains this determining ground itself by
means of that principle, and in which therefore it is itself
as pure reason practical. Now, this principle had not to be
200 THE ANADYTIC OF [239]
searched 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
and problematically thought (this speculative reason could prove
to be feasible), but is even as regards the law of its causality
definitely and assertorially known; and with it the fact that a
being (I myself) belonging to the world of sense, belongs also
to the supersensible world, this is also positively known, and
thus the reality of the supersensible world is established, and in
practical respects definitely given, and this definiteness, which
for theoretical purposes would be transcendent, is for practical
purposes immanent. We could not, however, make a similar
step as regards the second dynamical idea, namely, that of a
necessary being. We could not rise to it from the sensible world
without the aid of the first dynamical idea. For if we at-
tempted to do so, we should have ventured to leave at a bound
all that is given to us, and to leap to that of which nothing is
given us that can help us to effect the connexion of such a
supersensible being with the world of sense (since the necessary
being would have to be known as given outside ourselves). On
the other hand, it is now obvious that this connexion 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 of freedom), and
on the other side as acting in the world of sense. It is the
concept of freedom alone that enables us to find the uncon-
ditioned and intelligible [supersensible] for the conditioned
and sensible without going out of ourselves (239). For it is our
own reason that by means of the supreme and unconditional
practical law knows that itself, and the being that is conscious
of this law (our own person) belongs to the pure world of under-
standing, and moreover defines the manner in which, as such,
it can be active. In this way it can be understood why in the
whole faculty of reason it is the practical reason only that can
help us to pass beyond the world of sense, and give us know-
ledge of a supersensible order and connexion, which, however,
|240] Plj RE PRACTICAL REASON. 201
for this very reason cannot be extended further than is necessary
for pure practical purposes.
Let me be permitted on this occasion to make one more
remark, namely, that every step that we make with pure reason,
even in the practical sphere where no attention is paid to subtile
speculation, nevertheless accords with all the material points of
the Critique of the Theoretical Reason as closely and directly as
if each step had been thought out with deliberate purpose to es-
tablish this confirmation. Such a thorough agreement, wholly
unsought for, and quite obvious (as any one can convince him-
self, if he will only carry moral inquiries up to their principles)
between the most important propositions of practical reason,
and the often seemingly too subtile and needless remarks of the
Critique of the Speculative Reason, occasions surprise and
astonishment, and confirms the maxim already recognized and
praised by others, namely, that in every scientific inquiry we
should pursue our way steadily with all possible exactness and
frankness, without caring for any objections that may be raised
from Outside its sphere, but, as far as we can, to carry out
our inquiry truthfully and completely by itself. Frequent
observation has convinced me that when such researches are
concluded, that which in one part of them appeared to me very
questionable (240), considered in relation to other extraneous
doctrines, when I left this doubtfulness out of sight for a time,
and only attended to the business in hand until it was com-
pleted, at last was unexpectedly found to agree perfectly with
what had been discovered separately without the least regard to
those doctrines, and without any partiality or prejudice for them.
Authors would save themselves many errors and much labour
lost (because spent on a delusion), if they could only resolve to
go to work with more frankness.
* B O O K II.
DIALECTIC OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
*====
CEIAPTER. T.
OF A DIALECTIO OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON GENERALLYe
URE reason always has its dialectic, whether it is consi-
dered in its speculative or its practical employment ; for
it requires the absolute totality of the conditions of what is
given conditioned, and this can only be found in things in
themselves. But as all conceptions of things in themselves
must be referred to intuitions, and with us men these can
never be other than sensible, and hence can never enable us
to know objects as things in themselves but only as appear-
ances, and since the unconditioned can never be found in this
chain of appearances which consists only of conditioned and
conditions; thus from applying this rational idea of the totality
of the conditions (in other words of the unconditioned) to
appearances there arises an inevitable illusion, as if these latter
were things in themselves (242) (for in the absence of a warning
critique they are always regarded as such). This illusion
would never be noticed as delusive if it did not betray itself by
a conflict of reason with itself, when it applies to appearances
its fundamental principle of presupposing the unconditioned to
everything conditioned. By this, however, reason is compelled
to trace this illusion to its source, and search how it can be
removed, and this can only be done by a complete critical
examination of the whole pure faculty of reason; so that the
[243] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 203
antinomy of the pure reason which is manifest in its dialectic
is in fact the most beneficial error into which human reason
could ever have fallen, since it at last drives us to search for
the key to escape from this labyrinth; and when this key is
found, it further discovers that which we did not seek but yet
had need of, namely, a view into a higher and an immutable
order of things, in which we even now are, and in which we
are thereby enabled by definite precepts to continue to live
according to the highest dictates of reason.
It may be seen in detail in the Critique of Pure Reason how
in its speculative employment this natural dialectic is to be
solved, and how the error which arises from a very natural
illusion may be guarded against. But reason in its practical
use is not a whit better off. As pure practical reason, it like-
wise seeks to find the unconditioned for the practically con-
ditioned (which rests on inclinations and natural wants), and
this not as the determining principle of the will, but even when
this is given (in the moral law) it seeks the unconditioned
totality of the object of pure practical reason under the name
of the Summum Bonum.
To define this idea practically, i.e. sufficiently for the max-
ims of our rational conduct (243), is the business of practical
wisdom [Welsheitslehre], and this again as a science is philosophy,
in the sense in which the word was understood by the ancients,
with whom it meant instruction in the conception in which the
summum bonum was to be placed, and the conduct by which it
was to be obtained. It would be well to leave this word in its
ancient signification as a doctrine of the summum bonum, so far
as reason endeavours to make this into a science. For on the
One hand the restriction annexed would suit the Greek expres-
sion (which signifies the love of wisdom), and yet at the same
time would be sufficient to embrace under the name of phi-
losophy the love of science : that is to say, of all speculative
rational knowledge, so far as it is serviceable to reason, both for
that conception and also for the practical principle determining
our conduct, without letting out of sight the main end, on
account of which alone it can be called a doctrine of practical
204 DIALECTIC OF [244]
wisdom. On the other hand, it would be no harm to deter the
self-conceit of one who ventures to claim the title of philosopher
by holding before him in the very definition a standard of self-
estimation which would very much lower his pretensions. For
a teacher of wisdom would mean something more than a scholar
who has not come so far as to guide himself, much less to guide
others, with certain expectation of attaining so high an end: it
would mean a master in the knowledge of wisdom, which implics
more than a modest man would claim for himself. Thus phi-
losophy as well as wisdom would always remain an ideal, which
objectively is presented complete in reason alone, while sub-
jectively for the person it is only the goal of his unceasing
endeavours, and no one would be justified in professing to be
in possession of it so as to assume the name of philosopher, who
could not also show its infallible effects in his own person as an
example (244) (in his self-mastery and the unquestioned interest
that he takes pre-eminently in the general good), and this the
ancients also required as a condition of deserving that honour-
able title.
We have another preliminary remark to make respecting
the dialectic of the pure practical reason, on the point of the
definition of the summum bonum (a successful solution of which
dialectic would lead us to expect, as in case of that of the
theoretical reason, the most beneficial effects, inasmuch as the
self-contradictions of pure practical reason honestly stated, and
not concealed, force us to undertake a complete critique of this
faculty).
The moral law is the sole determining principle of a pure
will. But sigce this is merely formal (viz. as prescribing only
the form of the maxim as universally legislative), it abstracts
as a determining principle from all matter—that is to say, from
every object of volition. Hence, though the summum bonum
may be the whole object of a pure practical reason, i. e. a pure
will, yet it is not on that account to be regarded as its deter-
mining principle; and the moral law alone must be regarded as
the principle on which that and its realization or promotion are
aimed at. This remark is important in so delicate a case as the
[245] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 205.
determination of moral principles, where the slightest misinter-
pretation perverts men’s minds. For it will have been seen
from the Analytic, that if we assume any object under the
name of a good as a determining principle of the will prior to
the moral law, and then deduce from it the Supreme practical
principle, this would always introduce heteronomy, and crush
out the moral principle.
It is, however, evident that if the notion of the summum
bonum includes that of the moral law (245) as its supreme con-
dition, then the summum bonum would not merely be an object,
but the notion of it and the conception of its existence as pos-
sible by our own practical reason would likewise be the deter-
mining principle of the will, since in that case the will is in fact
determined by the moral law which is already included in this
conception, and by no other object, as the principle of autonomy
requires. This order of the conceptions of determination of
the will must not be lost sight of, as otherwise we should mis-
understand ourselves, and think we had fallen into a contra-
diction, while everything remains in perfect harmony.
º
206 IDIALECTIO OF [246—247]
(246) CHAPTER II.
OF THE EXIALECTIC OF PURE REASON IN DEFINING THE CONCEP-
TION OF THE “summum BONUM.”
THE conception of the summum itself contains an ambiguity
which might occasion needless disputes if we did not attend to
it. The summum may mean either the supreme (supremum) or
the perfect (consummatum). The former is that condition which
is itself unconditioned, i. e. is not subordinate to any other
(originarium); the second is that whole which is not a part of a
greater whole of the same kind (perfectissimum). It has been
shown in the Analytic that virtue (as worthiness to be happy)
is the supreme condition of all that can appear to us desirable,
and consequently of all our pursuit of happiness, and is there-
fore the supreme good. But it does not follow that it is the
whole and perfect good as the object of the desires of rational
finite beings; for this requires happiness also, and that not
merely in the partial eyes of the person who makes himself
an end, but even in the judgment of an impartial reason,
which regards persons in general as ends in themselves. For
to need happiness, to deserve it (247), and yet at the same time
not to participate in it, cannot be consistent with the perfect
volition of a rational being possessed at the same time of all
power, if, for the sake of experiment, we conceive such a being.
Now inasmuch as virtue and happiness together constitute the
possession of the Summum bonum in a person, and the distribution
of happiness in exact proportion to morality (which is the worth
of the person, and his worthiness to be happy) constitutes the
summum bonum of a possible world; hence this summum bonum
expresses the whole, the perfect good, in which, however, virtue
as the condition is always the Supreme good, since it has no
condition above it ; whereas happiness, while it is pleasant to
the possessor of it, is not of itself absolutely and in all respects
[248] PUIRE PRACTICAL REASON. 207
good, but always presupposes morally right behaviour as its
condition.
When two elements are necessarily united in one concept
they must be connected as reason and consequence, and this
either so that their unity is considered as analytical (logical
connexion), or as synthetical (real connexion)—the former fol-
lowing the law of identity, the latter that of causality. The
connexion of virtue and happiness may therefore be understood
in two ways: either the endeavour to be virtuous and the
rational pursuit of happiness are not two distinct actions, but
absolutely identical, in which case no maxim need be made the
principle of the former, other than what serves for the latter;
or the connexion consists in this, that virtue produces happiness
as something distinct from the consciousness of virtue, as a
cause produces an effect.
The ancient Greek schools were, properly speaking, only
two, and in determining the conception of the Summum bonum
these followed in fact one and the same method, inasmuch as
they did not allow virtue and happiness to be regarded as two
distinct elements of the summum bonum, and consequently
sought (248) the unity of the principle by the rule of identity;
but they differed as to which of the two was to be taken as
the fundamental notion. The Epicurean said: To be conscious
that one’s finaxims lead to happiness is virtue; the Stoic
said: To be conscious of one’s virtue is happiness. With
the former, Prudence was equivalent to morality; with the
latter, who chose a higher designation for virtue, morality
alone was true wisdom. 4.
While we must admire the men who in such early times
tried all imaginable ways of extending the domain of philo-
sophy, we must at the same time lament that their acuteness
was unfortunately misapplied in trying to trace out identity
between two extremely heterogeneous notions, those of happi-
ness and virtue. But it agreed with the dialectical spirit of
their times (and subtle minds are even now sometimes misled
in the same way) to get rid of irreconcilable differences in
principle by seeking to change them into a mere contest about
208 DIALEctic or [249]
words, and thus apparently working out the identity of the
notion under different names, and this usually occurs in cases
where the combination of heterogeneous principles lies so deep
or so high, or would require so complete a transformation of the
doctrines assumed in the rest of the philosophical system, that
men are afraid to penetrate deeply into the real difference, and
prefer treating it as a difference in matters of form.
While both schools sought to trace out the identity of the
practical principles of virtuo and happiness, they were not
agreed as to the way in which they tried to force this identity,
but were separated infinitely from one another, the one placing
its principle on the side of sense, the other on that of reason ;
the one in the consciousness of sensible wants, the other in the
independence of practical reason (249) on all sensible grounds of
determination. According to the Epicurean the notion of virtue
was already involved in the maxim : To promote one’s own
happiness; according to the Stoics, on the other hand, the feel-
ing of happiness was already contained in the consciousness of
virtue. Now whatever is contained in another notion is identi-
cal with part of the containing notion, but not with the whole, and
moreover two wholes may be specifically distinct, although they
consist of the same parts, namely, if the parts are united into a
whole in totally different ways. The Stoic maintained that
virtue was the whole Summum bonum, and happiness only the
consciousness of possessing it, as making part of the state of the
subject. The Epicurean maintained that happiness was the
whole summum bonum, and virtue only the form of the maxim
for its pursuit, viz. the rational use of the means for attain-
ing it.
Now it is clear from the Analytic that the maxims of virtue
and those of private happiness are quite heterogeneous as to
their supreme practical principle; and although they belong to
one summum bonum which together they make possible, yet they
are so far from coinciding that they restrict and check one
another very much in the same subject. Thus the question,
How is the summum bonum practically possible P still remains an
unsolved problem, notwithstanding all the attempts at coalition
[249] - PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 209
that have hitherto been made. The Analytic has, however,
shown what it is that makes the problem difficult to solve;
namely, that happiness and morality are two specifically distinct
elements of the Summum bonum, and therefore their combination
cannot be analytically cognised (as if the man that seeks his own
happiness should find by mere analysis of his conception that in
so acting he is virtuous, or as if the man that follows virtue
should in the consciousness of such conduct find that he is
already happy ipso facto) (250), but must be a synthesis of con-
cepts. Now since this combination is recognised as d priori,
and therefore as practically necessary, and consequently not as
derived from experience, so that the possibility of the summum
bonum does not rest on any empirical principle, it follows that
the deduction [legitimation] of this concept must be transcen-
dental. It is d priori (morally) necessary to produce the
summum bonum by freedom of will ; therefore the condition of its
possibility must rest solely on a priori principles of cognition.
I.—The Antinomy of Practical Reason.
In the summum bonum which is practical for us, i. e. to be
realised by our will, virtue and happiness are thought as neces-
sarily combined, so that the one cannot be assumed by pure
practical reason without the other also being attached to it.
Now this combination (like every other) is either analytical or
synthetical. It has been shown that it cannot be analytical; it
must then be synthetical, and, more particularly, must be con-
ceived as the connexion of cause and effect, since it concerns a
practical good, i. e. One that is possible by means of action;
consequently either the desire of happiness must be the motive
to maxims of virtue, or the maxim of virtue must be the
efficient cause of happiness. The first is absolutely impossible,
because (as was proved in the Analytic) maxims which place
the determining principle (251) of the will in the desire
of personal happiness are not moral at all, and no virtue.
can be founded on them. But the second is also impossible,
because the practical connexion of causes and effects in the
world, as the result of the determination of the will, does not
P
210 DIALECTIC OF [252]
depend upon the moral dispositions of the will, but on the
knowledge of the laws of nature and the physical power to use
them for one’s purposes; consequently we cannot expect in the
world by the most punctilious observance of the moral laws any
necessary connexion of happiness with virtue adequate to the
summum bonum. Now as the promotion of this summum bonum,
the conception of which contains this connexion, is a priori a
necessary object of our will, and inseparably attached to the
moral law, the impossibility of the former must prove the falsity
of the latter. If then the supreme good is not possible by
practical rules, then the moral law also which commands us to
promote it is directed to vain imaginary ends, and must
consequently be false.
II.-Critical Solution of the Antinomy of Practical
Beason.
The antinomy of pure speculative reason exhibits a similar
conflict between freedom and physical necessity in the causality
of events in the world. It was solved by showing that there is
no real contradiction when the events and even the world in
which they occur are regarded (as they ought to be) merely as
appearances; since one and the same acting being, as an ap-
pearance (even to his own inner Sense) (252) has a causality in
the world of sense that always conforms to the mechanism of
nature, but with respect to the same events, so far as the acting
person regards himself at the same time as a noumenon (as pure
intelligence in an existence not dependent on the condition of
time), he can contain a principle by which that causality acting
according to laws of nature is determined, but which is itself
free from all laws of nature.
It is just the same with the foregoing antinomy of pure
practical reason. The first of the two propositions—That the
endeavour after happiness produces a virtuous mind, is absolutely
false; but the second, That a virtuous mind necessarily pro-
duces happiness, is not absolutely false, but only in so far as
virtue is considered as a form of causality in the sensible world,
and consequently only if I suppose existence in it to be the only
[253] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 211
sort of existence of a rational being; it is then only conditionally
false. But as I am not only justified in thinking that I exist
also as a noumenon in a world of the understanding, but even
have in the moral law a purely intellectual determining prin-
ciple of my causality (in the sensible world), it is not impossible
that morality of mind should have a connexion as cause with
happiness (as an effect in the sensible world) if not immediate
yet mediate (viz.: through an intelligent author of nature),
and moreover necessary; while in a system of nature which
is merely an object of the senses this combination could never
occur except contingently, and therefore could not suffice for
the summum bonum.
Thus, notwithstanding this seeming conflict of practical
reason with itself, the summum bonum, which is the necessary
supreme end of a will morally determined, is a true object
thereof; for it is practically possible, and the maxims of the
will which as regards their matter refer to it, have objective
reality, which at first was threatened by the antinomy that
appeared in the connexion (253) of morality with happiness
by a general law; but this was merely from a misconception,
because the relation between appearances was taken for a
relation of the things in themselves to these appearances.
When we find ourselves obliged to go so far, namely, to the
connexion with an intelligible world, to find the possibility of
the summum bonum, which reason points out to all rational
beings as the goal of all their moral wishes, it must seem
strange that, nevertheless, the philosophers both of ancient and
modern times have been able to find happiness in accurate pro-
portion to virtue even in this life (in the sensible world), or have
persuaded themselves that they were conscious thereof. For
Epicurus as well as the Stoics extolled above everything the
happiness that springs from the consciousness of living virtu-
ously; and the former was not so base in his practical precepts.
as one might infer from the principles of his theory, which he
used for explanation and not for action, or as they were inter-
preted by many who were misled by his using the term pleasure
for contentment; on the contrary, he reckoned the most dis-
P 2
212 DIALECTIC OF [254]
interested practice of good amongst the ways of enjoying the
most intimate delight, and his scheme of pleasure (by which he
meant constant cheerfulness of mind) included the moderation
and control of the inclinations, such as the strictest moral philo-
sopher might require. He differed from the Stoics chiefly in
making this pleasure the motive, which they very rightly refused
to do. For, on the one hand, the virtuous Epicurus, like many
well-intentioned men of this day, who do not reflect deeply
enough on their principles, fell into the error of pre-supposing
the virtuous disposition in the persons for whom he wished to
provide the springs to virtue (and indeed the upright man cannot
be happy (254) if he is not first conscious of his uprightness;
since with such a character the reproach that his habit of
thought would oblige him to make against himself in case of
transgression, and his moral self-condemnation would rob him
of all enjoyment of the pleasantness which his condition might
otherwise contain). But the question is, How is such a disposi-
tion possible in the first instance, and such a habit of thought
in estimating the worth of one’s existence, since prior to it there
can be in the subject no feeling at all for moral worth P. If a
man is virtuous without being conscious of his integrity in every
action, he will certainly not enjoy life, however favourable for-
tune may be to him in its physical circumstances; but can we
make him virtuous in the first instance, in other words, before
he esteems the moral worth of his existence so highly, by
praising to him the peace of mind that would result from
the consciousness of an integrity for which he has no sense ?
On the other hand, however, there is here an occasion of a
vitium Subreptionis, and as it were of an optical illusion, in the
self-consciousness of what one does as distinguished from what
one feels, an illusion which even the most experienced cannot
altogether avoid. The moral disposition of mind is necessarily
combined with a consciousness that the will is determined directly
by the law. Now the consciousness of a determination of the
faculty of desire is always the source of a satisfaction in the
resulting action; but this pleasure, this satisfaction in oneself,
is not the determining principle of the action; on the contrary,
[255] Blu RE PRACTICAL REASON. 213
the determination of the will directly by reason is the source of
the feeling of pleasure, and this remains a pure practical not
sensible determination of the faculty of desire. Now as this
determination has exactly the same effect within (255) in im-
pelling to activity, that a feeling of the pleasure to be expected
from the desired action would have had, we easily look on what
we ourselves do as something which we merely passively feel,
and take the moral spring for a sensible impulse, just as it
happens in the so-called illusion of the senses (in this case the
inner sense). It is a sublime thing in human nature to be
determined to actions immediately by a purely rational law;
sublime even is the illusion that regards the subjective side of
this capacity of intellectual determination as something sensible,
and the effect of a special sensible feeling (for an intellectual
feeling would be a contradiction). It is also of great importance
to attend to this property of our personality, and as much as
possible to cultivate the effect of reason on this feeling. But
we must beware lest by falsely extolling this moral determining
principle as a spring, making its source lie in particular feelings
of pleasure (which are in fact only results), we degrade and dis-
figure the true genuine spring, the law itself, by putting as it
were a false foil upon it. Respect, not pleasure or enjoyment
of happiness, is something for which it is not possible that
reason should have any antecedent feeling as its foundation (for
this would always be sensible and pathological); [and]' con-
sciousness of immediate obligation of the will by the law is by
no means analogous to the feeling of pleasure, although in rela-
tion to the faculty of desire it produces the same effect, but from
different sources: it is only by this mode of conception, how-
ever, that we can attain what we are seeking, namely, that
actions be done not merely in accordance with duty (as a result
of pleasant feelings), but from duty, which must be the true end
of all moral cultivation.
"[The original has not ‘und,” but ‘ als,” which does not give any satis-
factory sense. I have, therefore, adopted Hartenstein's emendation, which
seems at least to give the meaning intended.]
214 DIALECTIC OF [256–257]
Have we not, however, a word which does not express enjoy-
ment, as happiness does (256), but indicates a satisfaction in one's
existence, an analogue of the happiness which must necessarily
accompany the consciousness of virtue? Yes! this word is self-
contentment, which in its proper signification always designates
only a negative satisfaction in one's existence, in which one is
conscious of needing nothing. Freedom and the consciousness
of it as a faculty of following the moral law with unyielding
resolution is independence on inclinations, at least as motives
determining (though not as affecting) our desire, and so far as I
am conscious of this freedom in following my moral maxims, it
is the only source of an unaltered contentment which is neces-
Sarily connected with it and rests on no special feeling. This
may be called intellectual contentment. The sensible content-
ment (improperly so-called) which rests on the satisfaction of
the inclinations, however delicate they may be imagined to be,
ean never be adequate to the conception of it. For the inclina-
tions change, they grow with the indulgence shown them, and
always leave behind a still greater void than we had thought to
fill. Hence they are always burdensome to a rational being, and
although he cannot lay them aside, they wrest from him the
wish to be rid of them. Even an inclination to what is right
(e.g. to beneficence), though it may much facilitate the efficacy of
the moral maxims, cannot produce any. For in these all must
be directed to the conception of the law as a determining prin-
ciple, if the action is to contain morality and not merely legality.
Inclination is blind and slavish whether it be of a good sort
or not, and when morality is in question, reason must not play
the part merely of guardian to inclination, but, disregarding it
altogether, must attend simply to its own interest as pure prac-
tical reason (257). This very feeling of compassion and tender
sympathy, if it precedes the deliberation on the question of duty
and becomes a determining principle, is even annoying to right-
thinking persons, brings their deliberate maxims into confusion,
and makes them wish to be delivered from it and to be subject
to law-giving reason alone.
From this we can understand how the consciousness of this
[258] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 215
faculty of a pure practical reason produces by action (virtue) a
consciousness of mastery over one’s inclinations, and therefore
of independence on them, and consequently also on the discon-
tent that always accompanies them, and thus a negative satis-
faction with one’s state, i.e. contentment, which is primarily
contentment with one’s own person. Freedom itself becomes
in this way (namely indirectly) capable of an enjoyment which
cannot be called happiness, because it does not depend on the
positive concurrence of a feeling, nor is it, strictly speaking,
b/88, since it does not include complete independence on incli-
nations and wants, but it resembles bliss in so far as the deter-
mination of one’s will at least can hold itself free from their
influence; and thus, at least in its origin, this enjoyment is
analogous to the self-sufficiency which we can ascribe only to
the Supreme Being. . .
From this solution of the antinomy of pure practical reason
it follows that in practical principles we may at least conceive
as possible a natural and necessary connexion between the
consciousness of morality and the expectation of a proportionate
happiness as its result, though it does not follow that we can
Know or perceive this connexion; that, on the other hand,
principles of the pursuit of happiness cannot possibly produce
morality; that, therefore, morality is the Supreme good (as the
first condition of the summum bonum), while happiness consti-
tutes its second element, but only in such a way that it is
the morally conditioned, but necessary consequence of the
former (258). Only with this subordination is the summum
bonum the whole object of pure practical reason, which must
necessarily conceive it as possible, since it commands us to
contribute to the utmost of our power to its realization. But
since the possibility of such connexion of the conditioned with
its condition belongs wholly to the supersensual relation of
things, and cannot be given according to the laws of the world
of sense, although the practical consequences of the idea belong
to the world of sense, namely, the actions that aim at realizing
the summum bonum; we will therefore endeavour to set forth
the grounds of that possibility, first in respect of what is imme-
216 DIALECTIC OF [260]
diately in our power, and then secondly in that which is not in
our power, but which reason presents to us as the supplement of
Our impotence, for the realization of the summum bonum (which
by practical principles is necessary). -
III.—Of the Primacy of Pure Practical Reason in its Union with
the Speculative Reason.
By primacy between two or more things connected by
reason, I understand the prerogative belonging to one, of
being the first determining principle in the connexion with
all the rest. In a narrower practical sense it means the pre-
rogative of the interest of one 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 mind we can attribute an in-
terest, that is a principle that contains the condition on which
alone the former is called into exercise. Reason, as the faculty
of principles, determines (260) the interest of all the powers of
the mind, and is determined by its own. The interest of its
speculative employment consists in the cognition of the object
pushed to the highest d priori principles: that of its practical
employment, in the determination of the will in respect of the
final and complete end. As to what is necessary for the possi-
bility of any employment of reason at all, namely, that its
principles and affirmations should not contradict one another,
this constitutes no part of its interest, but is the condition of
having reason at all; it is only its development, not mere con-
sistency with itself, that is reckoned as its interest.
If practical reason could not assume or think as given, any-
thing further than what speculative reason of itself could offer
it from its own insight, the latter would have the primacy.
But supposing that it had of itself original d priori principles
with which certain theoretical positions were inseparably con-
nected, while these were withdrawn from any possible insight
of speculative reason (which, however, they must not contra-
dict); then the question is, which interest is the superior (not
which must give way, for they are not necessarily conflicting),
[261] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 217
whether speculative reason, which knows nothing of all that the
practical offers for its acceptance, should take up these proposi-
tions, and (although they transcend it) try to unite them with
its own concepts as a foreign possession handed over to it, or
whether it is justified in obstinately following its own separate
interest, and according to the canonic of Epicurus rejecting as
vain subtlety everything that cannot accredit its objective
reality by manifest examples to be shown in experience, even
though it should be never so much interwoven with the interest
of the practical (pure) use of reason, and in itself not contradic-
tory to the theoretical, merely because it infringes on the interest
of the speculative reason to this extent (261), that it removes the
bounds which this latter had set to itself, and gives it up to
every nonsense or delusion of imagination ?
In fact, so far as practical reason is taken as dependent on
pathological conditions, that is, as merely regulating the incli-
nations under the sensible principle of happiness, we could not
require speculative reason to take its principles from such a
source. Mohammed’s paradise, or the absorption into the Deity
of the theosophists and mystics, would press their monstrosities on
the reason according to the taste of each, and One might as well
have no reason as surrender it in such fashion to all sorts of
dreams. ISut if pure reason of itself can be practical and is
actually so, as the consciousness of the moral law proves, then
it is still only one and the same reason which, whether in a
theoretical or a practical point of view, judges according to
'd priori principles; and then it is clear that although it is in
the first point of view incompetent to establish certain proposi-
tions positively, which, however, do not contradict it, then as
Soon as these propositions are inseparably attached to the practi.
cal interest of pure reason, then it must accept them, though it
be as something offered to it from a foreign source, something
that has not grown on its own ground, but yet is sufficiently
authenticated; and it must try to compare and connect them
with everything that it has in its power as speculative reason.
It must remember, however, that these are not additions to its
insight, but yet are extensions of its employment in another,
218 DIALECTIO OF [262-263]
namely, a practical aspect; and this is not in the least opposed
to its interest, which consists in the restriction of wild specu-
lation.
Thus, when pure speculative and pure practical reason are
combined in one cognition, the latter has the primacy, provided
namely, that this combination is not contingent and arbitrary,
but founded d priori on reason itself and therefore necessary (262).
For without this subordination there would arise a conflict of
reason with itself; since if they were merely co-ordinate, the
former would close its boundaries strictly and admit nothing
from the latter into its domain, while the latter would extend
its bounds over everything, and when its needs required would
seek to embrace the former within them. Nor could we reverse
the Order, and require pure practical reason to be subordinate
to the speculative, since all interest is ultimately practical, and
even that of speculative reason is conditional, and it is only in
the practical employment of reason that it is complete.
IV.-The Immortality of the Soul as a Postulate of Pure
Practical Reason.
The realization of the summum bonum in the world is the
necessary object of a will determinable by the moral law. Dut
in this will the perfect accordance of the mind with the moral
law is the supreme condition of the summum bonum. This then
must be possible, as well as its object, since it is contained in
the command to promote the latter. Now, the perfect accord-
ance of the will with the moral law is holiness, a perfection of
which no rational being of the sensible world is capable at any
moment of his existence. Since, nevertheless, it is required as
practically necessary, it can only be found in a progress in
infinitum towards that perfect accordance, and on the principles
of pure practical reason it is necessary (263) to assume such a
practical progress as the real object of our will. -
Now, this endless progress is only possible on the supposition
of an endless duration of the easistence and personality of the
same rational being (which is called the immortality of the
[264] FURE PRACTICAL REASON. 219
soul). The summum bonum, then, practically is only possible
on the supposition of the immortality of the soul; consequently
this immortality, being inseparably connected with the moral
law, is a postulate of pure practical reason) by which I mean
a theoretical proposition, not demonstrable as such, but which
is an inseparable result of an unconditional d priori practical
law)." - w
This principle of the moral destimation of our nature,
namely, that it is only in an endless progress that we can
attain perfect accordance with the moral law, is of the greatest
use, not merely for the present purpose of supplementing the
impotence of speculative reason, but also with respect to re-
ligion. In default of it, either the moral law is quite degraded
from its holiness, being made out to be indulgent, and confor-
mable to our convenience, or else men strain their notions of
their vocation and their expectation to an unattainable goal,
hoping to acquire complete holiness of will, and so they lose
themselves in fanatical theosophic dreams, which wholly contra-
dict self-knowledge. In both cases the unceasing effort to obey
punctually and thoroughly a strict and inflexible command of
reason, which yet is not ideal but real, is only hindered. For
a rational but finite being, the only thing possible is an endless
progress from the lower to higher degrees of moral perfec-
tion. The Infinite Being, to whom the condition of time is
nothing (264), sees in this to us endless succession a whole of
accordance with the moral law; and the holiness which His
command inexorably requires, in order to be true to His justice
in the share which He assigns to each in the summum bonum, is
to be found in a single intellectual intuition of the whole exist-
ence of rational beings. All that can be expected of the crea-
ture in respect of the hope of this participation would be the
consciousness of his tried character, by which, from the progress
he has hitherto made from the worse to the morally better, and
the immutability of purpose which has thus become known to
him, he may hope for a further unbroken continuance of the
* [See Preface, p. 115, note.]
220 I)IALECTIC OF [265]
same, however long his existence may last, even beyond this
life," and thus he may hope, not indeed here, nor at any imagi-
nable point of his future existence, but only in the endlessness
of his duration (which God alone can survey) (265) to be per-
fectly adequate to his will (without indulgence or excuse,
which do not harmonize with justice).
V.—The Ewistence of God as a Postulate of Pure Practical
Ičeason.
In the foregoing analysis the moral law led to a practical
problem which is prescribed by pure reason alone, without the
aid of any sensible motives, namely, that of the necessary com-
pleteness of the first and principal element of the summum
bonum, viz. Morality; and as this can be perfectly solved only
in eternity, to the postulate of immortality. The same law
must also lead us to affirm the possibility of the second element
of the Summum bonum, viz. Happiness proportioned to that
morality, and this on grounds as disinterested as before, and
*It seems, nevertheless, impossible for a creature to have the conviction
of his unwavering firmness of mind in the progress towards goodness. On
this account the Christian religion makes it come only from the same Spirit
that works sanctification, that is, this firm purpose, and with it the con-
sciousness of steadfastness” in the moral progress. But naturally one who
is conscious that he has persevered through a long portion of his life up to
the end in the progress to the better, and this from genuine moral motives,
may well have the comforting hope, though not the certainty, that even in
an existence prolonged beyond this life he will continue steadfast in these
principles; and although he is never justified here in his own eyes, nor can
ever hope to be so in the increased perfection of his nature, to which he
looks forward, together with an increase of duties, nevertheless in this pro-
gress which, though it is directed to a goal infinitely remote, yet is in God’s
sight regarded as equivalent to possession, he may have a prospect of a
blessed future; for this is the word that reason employs to designate perfect
well-being independent on all contingent causes of the world, and which,
like holiness, is an idea that can be contained only in an endless progress
and its totality, and consequently is never fully attained by a creature.
* [The ütropovſ of the N. T.]
[266] PUIRE PRACTICAI, REASON. 221
solely from impartial reason; that is, it must lead to the sup-
position of the existence of a cause adequate to this effect; in
other words, it must postulate the easistence of God, as the neces-
sary condition of the possibility of the summum bonum (an object
of the will which is necessarily connected with the moral legis-
lation of pure reason). We proceed to exhibit this connexion
in a convincing manner.
Happiness is the condition of a rational being in the world
with whom everything goes according to his wish and will; it rests,
therefore, on the harmony of physical nature with his whole
end, and likewise with the essential determining principle of
his will. Now the moral law as a law of freedom commands
by determining principles (266), which ought to be quite inde-
pendent on nature and on its harmony with our faculty of
desire (as springs). But the acting rational being in the world
is not the cause of the world and of nature itself. There is not
the least ground, therefore, in the moral law for a necessary
connexion between morality and proportionate happiness in a
being that belongs to the world as part of it, and therefore
dependent on it, and which for that reason cannot by his will
be a cause of this nature, nor by his own power make it tho-
roughly harmonize, as far as his happiness is concerned, with
his practical principles. Nevertheless, in the practical problem
of pure reason, i.e. the necessary pursuit of the summum bonum,
such a connexion is postulated as necessary : we ought to en-
deavour to promote the summum bonum, which, therefore, must
be possible. Accordingly, the existence of a cause of all nature,
distinct from nature itself and containing the principle of this
connexion, namely, of the exact harmony of happiness with
morality, is also postulated. Now, this Supreme cause must Con-
tain the principle of the harmony of nature, not merely with a
law of the will of rational beings, but with the conception of
this law, in so far as they make it the Supreme determining prin-
ciple of the will, and consequently not merely with the form of
morals, but with their morality as their motive, that is, with
their moral character. Therefore, the summum bonum is possible
222 DIALECTIO OF * [267]
in the world only on the supposition of a supreme Being
having a causality corresponding to moral character. Now a
being that is capable of acting on the conception of laws is an
intelligence (a rational being), and the causality of such a being
according to this conception of laws is his will; therefore the
Supreme cause of nature, which must be presupposed as a con-
dition of the summum bonum (267), is a being which is the cause
of nature by intelligence and will, consequently its author, that
is God. It follows that the postulate of the possibility of the
highest derived good (the best world) is likewise the postulate of
the reality of a highest original good, that is to say, of the
existence of God. Now it was seen to be a duty for us to
promote the summum bonum ; consequently it is not merely
allowable, but it is a necessity connected with duty as a requi-
site, that we should presuppose the possibility of this summum
bonum ; and as this is possible only on condition of the existence
of God, it inseparably connects the supposition of this with
duty ; that is, it is morally necessary to assume the existence
of God.
It must be remarked here that this moral necessity is sub-
ſective, 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 (since this concerns only the theoretical employment
of reason). Moreover it is not meant by this that it is necessary
to suppose the existence of God as a basis of all obligation in
general (for this rests, as has been sufficiently proved, simply on
the autonomy of reason itself). What belongs to duty here is
Only the endeavour to realize and promote the summum bonum
in the world, the possibility of which can therefore be postu-
lated ; and as Our reason finds it not conceivable except on the
supposition of a supreme intelligence, the admission of this
existence is therefore connected with the consciousness of our
* [The original has “a Supreme Nature.” “Natur,” however, almost
invariably means “physical nature"; therefore Hartenstein supplies the
words “cause of ’’ before “nature.” More probably “Natur” is a slip for
“Ursache,” “cause.”] -
|268] Plj RE PRACTICAL REASON. 223
duty, although the admission itself belongs to the domain of
speculative reason. Considered in respect of this alone, as a
principle of explanation, it may be called a hypothesis, but in
reference to the intelligibility of an object given us by the
moral law (the summum bonum), and consequently of a require-
ment for practical purposes, it may be called faith, that is to
say a pure rational faith, since pure reason (268) (both in its
theoretical and its practical use) is the sole source from which
it springs.
From this deduction it is now intelligible why the Greek
schools could never attain the solution of their problem of the
practical possibility of the summum bonum, because they made
the rule of the use which the will of man makes of his freedom
the sole and sufficient ground of this possibility, thinking that
they had no need for that purpose of the existence of God. No
doubt they were so far right that they established the principle
of morals of itself independently on this postulate, from the
relation of reason only to the will, and consequently made it
the supreme practical condition of the summum bonum ; but it
was not therefore the whole condition of its possibility. The
Epicureans had indeed assumed as the Supreme principle of
morality a wholly false one, namely that of happiness, and had
substituted for a law a maxim of arbitrary choice according to
every man’s inclination; they proceeded, however, consistently
enough in this, that they degraded their summum bonum like-
wise just in proportion to the meanness of their fundamental
principle, and looked for no greater happiness than can be
attained by human prudence (including temperance and mode-
ration of the inclinations), and this as we know would be scanty
enough and would be very different according to circumstances;
not to mention the exceptions that their maxims must perpetu-
ally admit and which make them incapable of being laws. The
Stoics, on the contrary, had chosen their supreme practical prin-
ciple quite rightly, making virtue the condition of the summum
bonum ; but when they represented the degree of virtue required
by its pure law as fully attainable in this life, they not only
strained the moral powers of the man whom they called the wise
224 DIALECTIO OF [269-270]
beyond all the limits of his nature, and assumed (269) a thing
that contradicts all our knowledge of men, but also and princi-
pally they would not allow the second element of the summum
bonum, namely, happiness, to be properly a special object of
human desire, but made their wise man, like a divinity in his
consciousness of the excellence of his person, wholly indepen-
dent on nature (as regards his own contentment); they exposed
him indeed to the evils of life, but made him not subject to
them (at the same time representing him also as free from
moral evil). They thus in fact left out the second element of
the summum bonum, namely, personal happiness, placing it
solely in action and satisfaction with one's own personal worth,
thus including it in the consciousness of being morally minded,
in which they might have been sufficiently refuted by the voice
of their own nature.
The doctrine of Christianity, even if we do not yet consider
it as a religious doctrine, gives, touching this point (269), a con-
ception of the summum bonum (the kingdom of God), which
alone satisfies the strictest demand of practical reason. The
moral law is holy (unyielding) and demands holiness of morals,
* It is commonly held that the Christian precept of morality has no ad-
vantage in respect of purity over the moral conceptions of the Stoics; the
distinction between them is, however, very obvious. The Stoic system
made the consciousness of strength of mind the pivot on which all moral
dispositions should turn; and although its disciples spoke of duties and even
defined them very well, yet they placed the spring and proper determining
principle of the will in an elevation of the mind above the lower springs of
the senses, which owe their power only to weakness of mind. With them,
therefore, virtue was a sort of heroism in the wise man who, raising himself
above the animal nature of man, is sufficient for himself, and while he pre-
scribes duties to others is himself raised above them, and is not subject to.
any temptation to transgress the moral law. All this, however, they could
not have done if they had conceived this law in all its purity and strictness,
as the precept of the Gospel does. When I give the name idea to a perfec-
tion to which nothing adequate can be given in experience, it does not follow
that the moral ideas are something transcendent, that is something of which
we could not even determine the concept adequately, or of which it is un-
certain whether there is any object corresponding to it at all (270), as is the
[270] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 225
although all the moral perfection to which man can attain is
still only virtue, that is, a rightful disposition arising from
respect for the law, implying consciousness of a constant pro-
pensity to transgression, or at least a want of purity, that is, a
mixture of many spurious (not moral) motives of obedience to
the law, consequently a self-esteem combined with humility.
In respect then of the holiness which the Christian law requires,
this leaves the creature nothing but a progress in infinitum, but
for that very reason it justifies him in hoping for an endless
duration of his existence. The worth of a character perfectly
accordant with the moral law is infinite, since (270) the only
restriction on all possible happiness in the judgment of a wise
and all-powerful distributor of it is the absence of conformity of
rational beings to their duty. But the moral law of itself does
not promise any happiness, for according to our conceptions of
an Order of nature in general, this is not necessarily connected
with obedience to the law. Now Christian morality supplies
this defect (of the second indispensable element of the summium
bonum) by representing the world, in which rational beings
devote themselves with all their soul to the moral law, as a
kingdom of God, in which nature and morality are brought into
case with the ideas of speculative reason; on the contrary, being types of
practical perfection, they serve as the indispensable rule of conduct and
likewise as the standard of comparison. Now if I consider Christian morals
on their philosophical side, then compared with the ideas of the Greek schools
they would appear as follows: the ideas of the Cynics, the Epicureams, the
Stoics, and the Christians, are: simplicity of nature, prudence, wisdom, and
holiness. In respect of the way of attaining them, the Greek schools were
distinguished from one another thus, that the Cynics only required common
sense, the others the path of science, but both found the mere use of natural
powers sufficient for the purpose. Christian morality, because its precept is
framed (as a moral precept must be) so pure and unyielding, takes from man
all confidence that he can be fully adequate to it, at least in this life, but again
sets it up by enabling us to hope that if we act as well as it is in our power
to do, then what is not in our power will come in to our aid from another
source, whether we know how this may be or not. Aristotle and Plato
differed only as to the origin of our moral conceptions. [See Preface,
p. 115, note.]
Q
226 DIALECTIC OF [271]
a harmony foreign to each of itself, by a holy Author who
makes the derived summum bonum possible. Holiness of life is
prescribed to them as a rule even in this life, while the welfare
proportioned to it, namely, bliss, is represented as attainable
only in an eternity; because the former must always be the
pattern of their conduct in every state, and progress towards it
is already possible and necessary in this life; while the latter,
under the name of happiness, cannot be attained at all in this
world (so far as our own power is concerned), and therefore is
made simply an object of hope. Nevertheless, the Christian
principle of morality itself is not theological (so as to be hetero-
nomy) but is autonomy of pure practical reason, since it does
not make the knowledge of God and his will the foundation of
these laws, but only of the attainment of the summum bonum, on
condition of following these laws, and it does not even place the
proper spring of this obedience in the desired results, but solely
in the conception of duty, as that of which the faithful observ-
ance alone constitutes the worthiness to obtain those happy con-
sequences.
In this manner the moral laws lead through the conception
of the summum bonum as the object and final end of pure prac-
tical reason to religion (271), that is, to the recognition of all
duties as divine commands, not as Sanctions," that is to say, arbi-
trary ordinances of a foreign will and contingent in themselves, but
as essential laws of every free will in itself, which, nevertheless,
must be regarded as commands of the Supreme Being, because
it is only from a morally perfect (holy and good) and at the
same time all-powerful will, and consequently only through
harmony with this will that we can hope to attain the summum
bonum which the moral law makes it our duty to take as the
object of our endeavours. Here again, then, all remains dis-
interested and founded merely on duty; neither fear nor hope
being made the fundamental springs, which if taken as prin-
* [The word ‘sanction’ is here used in the technical German sense, which
is familiar to students of history in connexion with the ‘Pragmatic Sanc-
tion.’]
[272] Plj RE PRACTICAL REASON. 227
ciples would destroy the whole moral worth of actions. The
moral law commands me to make the highest possible good in a
world the ultimate object of all my conduct. But I cannot
hope to effect this otherwise than by the harmony 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 which the
greatest happiness is conceived as combined in the most exact
proportion with the highest degree of moral perfection (possible
in creatures), includes my own happiness, yet it is not this that
is the determining principle of the will which is enjoined to
promote the summum bonum, but the moral law, which on the
contrary limits by strict conditions my unbounded desire of
happiness.
Hence also morality is not properly the doctrine how we
should make ourselves happy, but how we should become worthy
of happiness. It is only when religion is added that there also
comes in the hope of participating some day in happiness in
proportion as we have endeavoured to be not unworthy of it.
[272] A. man is worthy to possess a thing or a state when his
possession of it is in harmony with the summum bonum. We
can now easily see that all worthiness depends on moral conduct,
since in the conception of the summum bonum this constitutes
the condition of the rest (which belongs to one’s state), namely,
the participation of happiness. Now it follows from this that
morality should never be treated as a doctrine of happiness, that
is, an instruction how to become happy ; for it has to do
simply with the rational condition (conditio sine qua non) of
happiness, not with the means of attaining it. . But when
morality has been completely expounded (which merely im-
poses duties instead of providing rules for selfish desires), then,
first, after the moral desire to promote the summum bonum (to
bring the kingdom of God to us) has been awakened, a desire
founded on a law, and which could not previously arise in any
selfish mind, and when for the behoof of this desire the step to
religion has been taken, then this ethical doctrine may be also
called a doctrine of happiness, because the hope of happiness
first begins with religion only.
Q 2
228 - DIALECTIC OF [273]
We can also see from this that, when we ask what is God’s
ultimate end in creating the world, we must not name the happi-
ness of the rational beings in it, but the summum bonum, which
adds a further condition to that wish of such beings, namely,
the condition of being worthy of happiness, that is, the morality
of these same rational beings, a condition which alone contains
the rule by which only they can hope to share in the former at
the hand of a wise Author. For as wisdom theoretically con-
sidered signifies the knowledge of the summum bonum, and practi-
cally the accordance of the will with the summum bonum, we
cannot attribute to a supreme independent wisdom an end
based merely on goodness (273). For we cannot conceive the
action of this goodness (in respect of the happiness of rational
beings) as suitable to the highest original good, except under
the restrictive conditions of harmony with the holiness' of his
will. Therefore those who placed the end of creation in the
glory of God (provided that this is not conceived anthropomor-
phically as a desire to be praised) have perhaps hit upon the
best expression. For nothing glorifies God more than that
which is the most estimable thing in the world, respect for His
command, the observance of the holy duty that His law imposes
on us, when there is added thereto His glorious plan of crown-
ing such a beautiful order of things with corresponding happi-
ness. If the latter (to speak humanly) makes Him worthy of
1 In order to make these characteristics of these conceptions clear, I add
the remark that whilst we ascribe to God various attributes, 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, &c.,
under the designations of Omnipotence, omniscience, omnipresence, &c., there
are three that are ascribed to God exclusively, and yet without the addition
of greatness, and which are all moral. He is the only holy, the only blessed,
the only wise, because these conceptions already imply the absence of limi-
tation. In the order of these attributes He is also the holy lawgiver (and
creator), the good governor (and preserver) and the just judge, three attri-
butes which include everything by which God is the object of religion, and
in conformity with which the metaphysical perfections are added of them-
selves in the reason.
[274] . PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 229
love, by the former He is an object of adoration. Even men
can never acquire respect by benevolence alone, though they
may gain love, so that the greatest beneficence only procures
them honour when it is regulated by worthiness.
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 a means by any (274) (not even by God) without being
at the same time an end also himself, that therefore humanity
in our person must be holy to ourselves, this follows now of
itself because he is the subject' of the moral law, in other words,
of that which is holy in itself, and on account of which and in
agreement with which alone can anything be termed holy. For
this moral law is founded on the autonomy of his will, as a
free will which by its universal laws must necessarily be able
to agree with that to which it is to submit itself.
WI.-Of the Postulates of Pure Practical Reason in
General.
They all proceed from the principle of morality, which is
not a postulate but a law, by which reason determines the
will directly, which will, because it is so determined as a pure
will, requires these necessary conditions of obedience to its
precept. These postulates are not theoretical dogmas, but
suppositions practically necessary; while then they do [not]*
extend our speculative knowledge, they give objective reality
to the ideas of speculative reason in general (by means of their
reference to what is practical), and give it a right to concepts,
the possibility even of which it could not otherwise venture to
affirm.
These postulates are those of immortality, freedom positively
considered (as the causality of a being so far as he belongs to
"[That the ambiguity of the word subject may not mislead the reader, it
may be remarked that it is here used in the psychological sense: subjectum
legis, not subjectus legi.]
* [Absent from the original text.]
230 DIALECTIC OF [275-276]
the intelligible world), and the existence of God. The first
results from the practically necessary condition of a dura-
tion (275) adequate to the complete fulfilment of the moral law ;
the second from the necessary supposition of independence on
the sensible world, and of the faculty of determining one’s will
according to the law of an intelligible world, that is, of free-
dom; the third from the necessary condition of the existence of
the summum bonum in such an intelligible world, by the suppo-
sition of the Supreme independent good, that is, the existence
of God.
Thus the fact that respect for the moral law necessarily
makes the Summum bonum an object of our endeavours, and
the supposition thence resulting of its objective reality, lead
through the postulates of practical reason to conceptions which
speculative reason might indeed present as problems, but could
never solve. Thus it leads—1. To that one in the solution of
which the latter could do nothing but commit paralogisms
(namely, that of immortality), because it could not lay hold of
the character of permanence, by which to complete the psycho-
logical conception of an ultimate subject necessarily ascribed to
the Soul in self-consciousness, so as to make it the real concep-
tion of a substance, a character which practical reason furnishes
by the postulate of a duration required for accordance with the
moral law in the Summum bonum, which is the whole end of
practical reason. 2. It leads to that of which speculative reason
contained nothing but antinomy, the solution of which it could
only found on a notion problematically conceivable indeed, but
whose objective reality it could not prove or determine, namely,
the cosmological idea of an intelligible world and the conscious-
ness of our existence in it, by means of the postulate of freedom
(the reality of which it lays down by virtue of the moral law),
and with it likewise the law of an intelligible world, to which
speculative reason could only point, but could not define its
conception. 3. What speculative reason was able to think, but
was obliged to leave undetermined as a mere transcendental
ideal (276), viz. the theological conception of the first Being, to
this it gives significance (in a practical view, that is, as a con-
[277] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 231
dition of the possibility of the object of a will determined by
that law), namely, as the Supreme principle of the summum
bonum in an intelligible world, by means of moral legislation in
it invested with sovereign power.
Is our knowledge, however, actually extended in this way
by pure practical reason, and is that immanent in practical
reason which for the speculative was only transcendent P Cer-
tainly, but only in a practical point of view. For we do not
thereby take knowledge of the nature of our souls, nor of the
intelligible world, nor of the Supreme Being, with respect to
what they are in themselves, but we have merely combined the
conceptions of them in the practical concept of the summum
bonum as the object of our will, and this altogether d priori, but
only by means of the moral law, and merely in reference to it,
in respect of the object which it commands. Dut how freedom
is possible, and how we are to conceive this kind of causality
theoretically and positively, is not thereby discovered; but only
that there is such a causality is postulated by the moral law
and in its behoof. It is the same with the remaining ideas, the
possibility of which no human intelligence will ever fathom,
but the truth of which, on the other hand, no sophistry will
ever wrest from the conviction even of the commonest man.
(277) VII.-How is it possible to conceive an eatension of Pure
Jęeason in a Practical point of view, without its ſnowledge as
Speculative being enlarged at the same time 3
In order not to be too abstract, we will answer this question
at Once in its application to the present case. In order to ex-
tend a pure cognition practically, there must be an d priori
purpose given, that is, an end as object (of the will), which
independently on all theological principle is presented as prac-
tically necessary by an imperative which determines the will
directly (a categorical imperative), and in this case that is the
Summum bonum. This, however, is not possible without pre-
supposing three theoretical conceptions (for which, because they
are mere conceptions of pure reason, no corresponding intuition
232 DIALECTIC OF |278]
can be found, nor consequently by the path of theory any ob-
jective reality); namely, freedom, immortality, and God. Thus
by the practical law which commands the existence of the
highest good possible in a world, the possibility of those objects
of pure speculative reason is postulated, and the objective
reality which the latter could not assure them. By this the
theoretical knowledge of pure reason does indeed obtain an
accession; but it consists only in this, that those concepts which
otherwise it had to look upon as problematical (merely think-
able) concepts, are now shown assertorially to be such as actually
have objects; because practical reason indispensably requires
their existence for the possibility of its object, the summum
bonum, which practically is absolutely necessary, and this jus-
tifies theoretical reason in assuming them. But this extension
of theoretical reason (278) is no extension of speculative, that is,
we cannot make any positive use of it in a theoretical point of
view. For as nothing is accomplished in this by practical
reason, further than that these concepts are real and actually
have their (possible) objects, and nothing in the way of intui-
tion of them is given thereby (which indeed could not be
demanded), hence the admission of this reality does not render
any synthetical proposition possible. Consequently this dis-
covery does not in the least help us to extend this knowledge of
ours in a speculative point of view, although it does in respect
of the practical employment of pure reason. The above three
ideas of speculative reason are still in themselves not cogni-
tions; they are however (transcendent) thoughts, in which there
is nothing impossible. Now, by help of an apodictic practical
law, being necessary conditions of that which it commands to be
made an object, they acquire objective reality: that is, we learn
from it that they have objects, without being able to point out
how the conception of them is related to an object, and this,
too, is still not a cognition of these objects; for we cannot
thereby form any synthetical judgment about them, nor deter-
mine their application theoretically; consequently we can make
no theoretical rational use of them at all, in which use all
speculative knowledge of reason consists. Nevertheless, the
{279] Plj RE PRACTICAL REASON. 233
theoretical knowledge, not indeed of these objects, but of reason
generally, is so far enlarged by this, that by the practical pos-
tulates objects were given to those ideas, a merely problematical
thought having by this means first acquired objective reality.
There is therefore no extension of the knowledge of given super-
sensible objects, but an extension of theoretical reason and of its
knowledge in respect of the supersensible generally; inasmuch
as it is compelled to admit that there are such objects (279),
although it is not able to define them more closely, so as itself
to extend this knowledge of the objects (which have now been
given it on practical grounds, and only for practical use). For
this accession, then, pure theoretical reason, for which all those
ideas are transcendent and without object, has simply to thank
its practical faculty. In this they become immanent and consti-
futive, being the source of the possibility of realizing the neces-
Sary object of pure practical reason (the summum bonum); whereas
apart from this they are transcendent, and merely regulative
principles of speculative reason, which do not require it to
assume a new object beyond experience, but only to bring its
use in experience nearer to completeness. But when once
reason is in possession of this accession, it will go to work with
these ideas as speculative reason (properly only to assure the
certainty of its practical use) in a negative manner: that is,
not extending but clearing up its knowledge so as on one side
to keep off anthropomorphism, as the source of superstition, or
seeming extension of these conceptions by supposed experience;
and on the other side fanaticism, which promises the same by
means of supersensible intuition or feelings of the like kind.
All these are hindrances to the practical use of pure reason, so
that the removal of them may certainly be considered an
extension of our knowledge in a practical point of view, with-
out contradicting the admission that for speculative purposes
reason has not in the least gained by this.
Every employment of reason in respect of an object requires
pure concepts of the understanding (categories), without which
no object can be conceived. These can be applied to the theo-
retical employment of reason, i. e. to that kind of knowledge,
234 DIALECTIC OF [280–281]
only in case an intuition (which is always sensible) is taken as
a basis, and therefore merely in order (280) to conceive by means
of them an object of possible experience. Now here what have
to be thought by means of the categories, in order to be known,
are ideas of reason, which cannot be given in any experience.
Only we are not here concerned with the theoretical knowledge
of the objects of these ideas, but only with this, whether they
have objects at all. This reality is supplied by pure practical
reason, and theoretical reason has nothing further to do in this
but to think those objects by means of categories. This, as we
have elsewhere clearly shown, can be done well enough without
needing any intuition (either sensible or supersensible), because
the categories have their seat and origin in the pure understand-
ing, simply as the faculty of thought, before and independently
on any intuition, and they always only signify an object in
general, no matter in what way it may be given to us. Now when
the categories are to be applied to these ideas, it is not possible
to give them any object in intuition; but that such an object
actually eacists, and consequently that the category as a mere
form of thought is here not empty but has significance, this is
sufficiently assured them by an object which practical reason
presents beyond doubt in the concept of the summum bonum,
namely, the reality of the conceptions which are required for
the possibility of the summum bonum, without, however, effect-
ing by this accession the least extension of our knowledge on
theoretical principles.
When these ideas of God, of an intelligible world (the
kingdom of God), and of immortality are further determined by
predicates taken from our own nature, we must not regard this
determination as a sensualizing of those pure rational ideas (281)
(anthropomorphism), nor as a transcendent knowledge of Super-
sensible objects; for these predicates are no others than under-
standing and will, considered too in the relation to each other
in which they must be conceived in the moral law, and there-
fore only so far as a pure practical use is made of them. As to
all the rest that belongs to these conceptions psychologically,
[282] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 235
that is, so far as we observe these faculties of ours empirically
tn their eatercise (e.g. that the understanding of man is discursive,
and its notions therefore not intuitions but thoughts, that these
follow one another in time, that his will has its satisfaction
always dependent on the existence of its object, &c., which
cannot be the case in the Supreme Being), from all this we
abstract in that case, and then there remains of the notions by
which we conceive a pure intelligence nothing more than just
what is required for the possibility of conceiving a moral law.
There is then a knowledge of God indeed, but only for practical
purposes, and if we attempt to extend it to a theoretical know-
ledge we find an understanding that has intuitions, not thoughts,
a will that is directed to objects on the existence of which its
satisfaction does not in the least depend (not to mention the
transcendental predicates, as, for example, a magnitude of exist-
ence, that is duration, which, however, is not in time, the only
possible means we have of conceiving existence as magnitude).
Now these are all attributes of which we can 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 of Supersen-
sible beings, so that on this side they are quite incapable of
being the foundation of a speculative knowledge, and their use
is limited simply to the practice of the moral law.
(282) This last is so obvious, and can be proved so clearly by
fact, that we may confidently challenge all pretended natural
theologians (a singular name)' to specify (over and above the
1 [This remark, as well as the following note, applies to the etymological
form of the German word, which is God-learned.] Learning is properly only
the whole content of the historical sciences. Consequently it is only the
teacher of revealed theology that can be called a learned theologian [God-
learned). If, however, we choose to call a man learned who is in possession
of the rational sciences (mathematics and philosophy), although even this
would be contrary to the signification of the word (which always counts as
learning only that which one must be “learned’ [taught], and which, there-
fore, he cannot discover of himself by reason), even in that case the philo-
sopher would make too poor a figure with his knowledge of God as a
positive science to let himself be called on that account a learned man.
•y
g •.
tº
*
g
*
º * * tº gº w
... * * • * ,
:
º
.
º
236 DIALECTIC OF [283]
merely ontological predicates) one single attribute, whether of
the understanding or of the will, determining this object of
theirs, of which we could not show incontrovertibly that if we
abstract from it everything anthropomorphic, nothing would re-
main to us but the mere word, without our being able to connect
with it the smallest notion by which we could hope for an exten-
sion of theoretical knowledge. But as to the practical, there
still remains to us of the attributes of understanding and will the
conception of a relation to which objective reality is given by the
practical law (which determines d priori precisely this relation
of the understanding to the will). When once this is done,
then reality is given to the conception of the object of a will
morally determined (the conception of the summum bonum), and
with it to the conditions of its possibility, the ideas of God,
freedom, and immortality, but always only relatively to
the practice of the moral law (and not for any speculative
purpose).
According to these remarks it is now easy to find the answer
to the weighty question: whether the notion of God is one belong-
ing to Physics (and therefore also to Metaphysics (283), which
contains the pure d priori principles of the former in their uni-
Versal import) or to morals. If we have recourse to God as the
Author of all things, in order to eaplain the arrangements of
nature or its changes, this is at least not a physical explanation,
and is a complete confession that our philosophy has come to an
end, since we are obliged to assume something of which in itself
we have otherwise no conception, in order to be able to frame a
conception of the possibility of what we see before our eyes.
Metaphysics, however, cannot enable us to attain by certain
tºference from the knowledge of this world to the conception
of God and to the proof of his existence, for this reason, that in
Order to say that this world could be produced only by a God
(according to the conception implied by this word) we should
know this world as the most perfect whole possible; and for this
purpose should also know all possible worlds (in order to be able
to compare them with this); in other words, we should be om-
miscient. It is absolutely impossible, however, to know the exist-
[284] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 237
ence of this Being from mere concepts, because every existential
proposition, that is every proposition that affirms the existence
of a being of which I frame a concept, is a synthetic proposition,
that is, one by which I go beyond that conception and affirm of
it more than was thought in the conception itself, namely, that
this concept in the understanding has an object corresponding to
it outside the understanding, and this it is obviously impossible to
elicit by any reasoning. There remains, therefore, only one
single process possible for reason to attain this knowledge,
namely, to start from the Supreme principle of its pure practical
use (which in every case is directed simply to the existence of
something as a consequence of reason), 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 First Being (284) in
reference to the possibility of this good in the world, but what
is most remarkable, something which reason in its progress on
the path of physical nature altogether failed to find, namely, an
accurately defined conception of this First Being. As we can
know only a small part of this world, and can still less compare
it with all possible worlds, we may indeed from its order, design,
and greatness, infer a wise, good, powerful, &c., Author of it,
but not that He is all-wise, all-good, all-powerful, &c. It may
indeed, very well be granted that we should be justified in sup-
plying this inevitable defect by a legitimate and reasonable
hypothesis, namely, that when wisdom, goodness, &c., are
displayed in all the parts that offer themselves to our nearer
knowledge, it is just the same in all the rest, and that it would
therefore be reasonable to ascribe all possible perfections to the
Author of the world, but these are not strict logical inferences in
which we can pride ourselves on our insight, but only permitted
conclusions in which we may be indulged, and which require
further recommendation before we can make use of them. On
the path of empirical inquiry then (physics) the conception of
God remains always a conception of the perfection of the
Eirst Being not accurately enough determined to be held
adequate to the conception of Deity. (With metaphysic
238 DIAI, ECTIC OF [285]
in its transcendental part nothing whatever can be accom-
plished).
When I now try to test this conception by reference to the
object of practical reason, I find that the moral principle admits
as possible only the conception of an Author of the world pos-
sessed of the highest perfection. He must be omniscient, in order
to know my conduct up to the inmost root of my mental state
in all possible cases and into all future time; omnipotent, in
order to allot to it its fitting consequences; similarly He must
be omnipresent, eternal, &c. Thus the moral law, by means of
the conception of the summum bonum (285) as the object of a
pure practical reason, determines the concept of the First Being
as the Supreme Being ; a thing which the physical (and in its
higher development the metaphysical); in other words, the whole
speculative course of reason, was unable to effect. The concep-
tion of God, then, is one that belongs originally not to physics,
i. e. to speculative reason, but to morals. The same may be
said of the other conceptions of reason of which we have treated
above as postulates of it in its practical use.
In the history of Grecian philosophy we find no distinct
traces of a pure rational theology earlier than Anawagoras, but
this is not because the older philosophers had not intelligence or
penetration enough to raise themselves to it by the path of
speculation, at least with the aid of a thoroughly reasonable
hypothesis. What could have been easier, what more natural,
than the thought which of itself occurs to every one, to assume
instead of several causes of the world, instead of an indeterminate
degree of perfection, a single rational cause having all perfection ?
But the evils in the world seemed to them to be much too serious
objections to allow them to feel themselves justified in such a
hypothesis. They showed intelligence and penetration then in
this very point, that they did not allow themselves to adopt it,
but on the contrary looked about amongst natural causes to see
if they could not find in them the qualities and power required
for a First Being. But when this acute people had advanced
so far in their investigations of nature as to treat even moral
questions philosophically, on which other nations had never
[286–287| PUIRE PRACTICAL REASON. 239
done anything but talk, then first they found a new and
practical want, which did not fail to give definiteness to their
conception of the First Being : and in this the speculative reason
played the part of spectator, or at best had the merit of embel-
lishing a conception that had not grown on its own ground, and
of applying a series of confirmations (286) from the study of
nature now brought forward for the first time, not indeed to
strengthen the authority of this conception (which was already
established), but rather to make a show with a supposed discovery
of theoretical reason.
From these remarks the reader of the Critique of Pure
Speculative Reason will be thoroughly convinced how highly
necessary that laborious deduction of the categories was, and how
fruitful for theology and morals. For if, on the one hand, we
place them in the pure understanding, it is by this deduction
alone that we can be prevented from regarding them, with
Plato, as innate, and founding on them extravagant pretensions
to theories of the SuperSensible, to which we can see no end, and
by which we should make theology a magic lantern of chimera :
on the other hand, if we regard them as acquired, this deduction
saves us from restricting, with Epicurus, all and every use of
them, even for practical purposes, to the objects and motives of
the senses. But now that the Critique has shown by that
deduction, first, that they are not of empirical origin, but have
their seat and source d priori in the pure understanding; Secondly,
that as they refer to objects in general independently on the
intuition of them, hence, although they cannot effect theoretical
Knowledge, except in application to empirical objects, yet when
applied to an object given by pure practical reason they enable
us to conceive the supersensible definitely, only so far, however, as
it is defined by such predicates as are necessarily connected with
the pure practical purpose given d priori and with its possibility.
The speculative restriction of pure reason and its practical
extension bring it into that (287) relation of equality in which
reason in general can be employed suitably to its end, and this
example proves better than any other that the path to wisdom,
240 DIALECTIC OF [288]
if it is to be made sure and not to be impassable or misleading,
must with us men inevitably pass through science; but it is not
till this is completed that we can be convinced that it leads to
this goal.
VIII.—Of Belief from a Requirement of Pure Reason.
A want or requirement of pure reason in its speculative use
leads only 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 in the series of causes, not in order to give objective
reality to the result (e.g. the causal connexion of things and
changes in the world), but in order thoroughly to satisfy my
inquiring reason in respect of it. Thus I see before me order
and design in nature, and need not resort to speculation to assure
myself of their reality, but to earplain them. I have to pre-suppose
a Deity as their cause; and then since the inference from an
effect to a definite cause is always uncertain and doubtful,
especially to a cause so precise and so perfectly defined as we
have to conceive in God, hence the highest degree of certainty
to which this pre-supposition can be brought is, that it is the
most rational opinion for us men' (288). On the other hand, a
requirement of pure practical reason is based on a duty, that of
making something (the summum bonum) the object of my will so
as to promote it with all my powers; in which case I must Sup-
pose its possibility, and consequently also the conditions necessary
* But even here we should not be able to allege a requirement of
reason, if we had not before our eyes a problematical, but yet inevitable,
conception of reason, namely, that of an absolutely necessary being. This
conception now seeks to be defined, and this, in addition to the tendency to
extend itself, is the objective ground of a requirement of speculative reason,
namely, to have a more precise definition of the conception of a necessary
being which is to serve as the first cause of other beings, so as to make these”
latter knowable by some means. Without such antecedent necessary problems
there are no requirements—at least not of pure reason—the rest are require-
ments of inclination. -
* I read “diese’ with the ed. of 1791. Rosenkranz and Hartenstein both read “dieses,”
‘This being.’
[289] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 241
thereto, namely, God, freedom, and immortality; since I cannot
prove these by my speculative reason, although neither can I
refute them. This duty is founded on something that is indeed
quite independent on these suppositions, and is of itself apodic-
tically certain, namely, the moral law; and so far it needs no
further support by theoretical views as to the inner constitution
of things, the Secret final aim of the order of the world, or a
presiding ruler thereof, in order to bind me in the most perfect
manner to act in unconditional conformity to the law. But the
subjective effect of this law, namely, the mental disposition con-
formed to it and made necessary by it, to promote the practically
possible summum bonum, this pre-supposes at least that the latter
is possible, for it would be practically impossible to strive after the
object of a conception which at bottom was empty and had no
object. Now the above-mentioned postulates concern only the
physical or metaphysical conditions of the possibility of the
Summum bonum (289); in a word, those which lie in the nature
of things; not, however, for the sake of an arbitrary speculative
purpose, but of a practically necessary end of a pure rational
will, which in this case does not choose, but obeys an inexorable
command of reason, the foundation of which is objective, in the
constitution of things as they must be universally judged by
pure reason, and is not based on inclination; for we are in no-
wise justified in assuming, on account of what we wish on merely
subjective grounds, that the means thereto are possible or that its
object is real. This then is an absolutely necessary requirement,
and what it pre-supposes is not merely justified as an allowable
hypothesis, but as a postulate in a practical point of view; and
admitting that the pure moral law inexorably binds every man
as a command (not as a rule of prudence), the righteous man
may say: I will that there be a God, that my existence in this
world be also an existence outside the chain of physical causes,
and in a pure world of the understanding, and lastly, that my
duration be endless; I firmly abide by this, and will not let this
faith be taken from me; for in this instance alone my interest,
because I must not relax anything of it, inevitably determines
my judgment, without regarding sophistries, however unable I
R.
242 DIALECTIC OF [290
may be to answer them or to oppose them with others more
plausible."
(290) In order to prevent misconception in the use of a notion
as yet so unusual as that of a faith of pure practical reason, let
me be permitted to add one more remark. It might almost
seem as if this rational faith were here announced as itself a
command, namely, that we should assume the summum bonum as
possible. But a faith that is commanded is nonsense. Let the
preceding analysis, however, be remembered of what is required
to be supposed in the conception of the Summum bonum, and it
will be seen that it cannot be commanded to assume this possi-
bility, and no practical disposition of mind is required to admit
it ; but that speculative reason must concede it without being
asked, for no one can affirm that it is impossible in itself that
rational beings in the world should at the same time be worthy
of happiness in conformity with the moral law, and also possess this
happiness proportionately. Now in respect of the first element of
the summum bonum, namely, that which concerns morality, the
* In the Deutsches Museum, February, 1787, there is a dissertation
by a very subtle and clear-headed man, the late Wºzenmann, whose early
death is to be lamented, in which he disputes the 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, who having fooled himself into an idea of beauty, which is
merely a chimera of his own brain, would fain conclude that such an object
really exists somewhere (290). I quite agree with him in this, in all cases
where the want is founded on inclination, which cannot necessarily postulate
the existence of its object even for the man that is affected by it, much less
can it contain a demand valid for everyone, and therefore it is merely a
subjective ground of the wish. But in the present case we have a want of
reason springing from an objective determining principle of the will, namely,
the moral law, which necessarily binds every rational being, and therefore
justifies him in assuming d priori in nature the conditions proper for it, and
makes the latter inseparable from the complete practical use of reason. It
is a duty to realize the summum bonum to the utmost of our power, therefore
it must be possible, consequently it is unavoidable for every rational being
in the world to assume what is necessary for its objective possibility. The
assumption is as necessary as the moral law, in connexion with which alone
it is valid.
[291–292] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 243
moral law gives merely a command, and to doubt the possibility
of that element would be the same as to call in question the
moral law itself (291). But as regards the second element of
that object, namely, happiness perfectly proportioned to that
worthiness, it is true that there is no need of a command to
admit its possibility in general, for theoretical reason has nothing
to say against it ; but the manner in which we have to conceive
this harmony of the laws of nature with those of freedom has
in it something in respect of which we have a choice, because
theoretical reason decides nothing with apodictic certainty about
it, and in respect of this there may be a moral interest which
turns the scale.
I had said above that in a mere course of nature in the world
an accurate correspondence between happiness and moral worth
is not to be expected, and must be regarded as impossible, and
that therefore the possibility of the summum bonum cannot be
admitted from this side except on the supposition of a moral
Author of the world. I purposely reserved the restriction of this
judgment to the subjective conditions of our reason, in order not
to make use of it until the manner of this belief should be
defined more precisely. The fact is that the impossibility
referred to is merely subjective, that is, our reason finds it impos-
sible for it to render conceivable in the way of a mere course of
nature a connexion so exactly proportioned and so thoroughly
adapted to an end, between two sets of events happening
according to such distinct laws; although, as with every-
thing else in nature that is adapted to an end, it cannot prove,
that is, show by sufficient objective reasons, that it is not pos-
sible by universal laws of nature.
Now, however, a deciding principle of a different kind
comes into play to turn the scale in this uncertainty of specu-
lative reason. The command to promote the summum bonum is
established on an objective basis (in practical reason); the pos-
sibility of the same in general is likewise established on an
objective basis (292) (in theoretical reason, which has nothing to
say against it). But reason cannot decide objectively in what
way we are to conceive this possibility; whether by universal
Tº 2
244 DIALECTIC OF [293]
laws of nature without a wise Author presiding over nature,
or only on supposition of such an Author. Now here there
comes in a subjective condition of reason; the only way theo-
retically possible for it, of conceiving the exact harmony of the
kingdom of nature with the kingdom of morals, which is the
condition of the possibility of the summum bonum ; and at the
same time the only one conducive to morality (which depends
on an objective law of reason). Now since the promotion of this
summum bonum, and therefore the supposition of its possibility,
are objectively necessary (though only as a result of practical
reason), while at the same time the manner in which we would
conceive it rests with our own choice, and in this choice a free
interest of pure practical reason decides for the assumption of a
wise Author of the world; it is clear that the principle that
herein determines our judgment, though as a want it is sub-
jective, yet at the same time being the means of promoting what
is objectively (practically) necessary, is the foundation of a maaim
of belief in a moral point of view, that is, a faith of pure practical
reason. This, then, is not commanded, but being a voluntary
determination of our judgment, conducive to the moral (com-
manded) purpose, and moreover harmonizing with the theoretical
requirement of reason, to assume that existence and to make it
the foundation of our further employment of reason, it has itself
sprung from the moral disposition of mind; it may therefore at
times waver even in the well-disposed, but can never be reduced
to unbelief.
[293] 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 this end. Now the Critique of Pure Speculative Reason proves
that this is incapable of solving satisfactorily the most weighty
problems that are proposed to it, although it does not ignore the
natural and important hints received from the same reason, nor
the great steps that it can make to approach to this great goal
{294] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 245
that is set before it, which, however, it can never reach of itself,
even with the help of the greatest knowledge of nature. Nature
then seems here to have provided us only in a step-motherly
fashion with the faculty required for our end.
Suppose now that in this matter nature had conformed to
our wish, and had given us that capacity of discernment or
that enlightenment which we would gladly possess, or which
some imagine they actually possess, what would in all
probability be the consequence P Unless our whole nature
were at the same time changed, our inclinations, which
always have the first word, would first of all demand
their own satisfaction, and, joined with rational reflection, the
greatest possible and most lasting satisfaction, under the name
of happiness; the moral law (294) would afterwards speak, in
order to keep them within their proper bounds, and even to
subject them all to a higher end, which has no regard to incli-
nation. But instead of the conflict that the moral disposition
has now to carry on with the inclinations, in which, though after
some defeats, moral strength of mind may be gradually acquired,
God and eternity with their auſful majesty would stand unceasingly
before our eyes (for what we can prove perfectly is to us as certain
as that of which we are assured by the sight of our eyes).
Transgression of the law would, no doubt, be avoided; what is
commanded would be done; but the mental disposition, from
which actions ought to proceed, cannot be infused by any com-
mand, and in this case the spur of action is ever active and
eaternal, so that reason has no need to exert itself in order to
gather strength to resist the inclinations by a lively representa-
tion of the dignity of the law : hence most of the actions that
conformed to the law would be 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 of supreme wisdom the worth of the
person and even that of the world depends, would cease to exist.
As long as the nature of man remains what 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 quite otherwise with
246 DIALECTIC OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON. [295]
us, when with all the effort of our reason we have only a very
obscure and doubtful view into the future, when the Governor
of the world allows us only to conjecture his existence and his
majesty, not to behold them or prove them clearly ; and on the
other hand, the moral law within us, without promising or
threatening anything with certainty, demands of us disinterested
respect; and only when this respect has become active (295)
and dominant does it allow us by means of it a prospect into
the world of the supersensible, and then only with weak glances:
all this being so, there is room for true moral disposition, imme-
diately devoted to the law, and a rational creature can become
worthy of sharing in the summum bonum that corresponds to the
worth of his person and not merely to his actions. Thus what
the study of nature and of man teaches us sufficiently elsewhere
may well be true here also ; that the unsearchable wisdom by
which we exist is not less worthy of admiration in what it has
denied than in what it has granted.
PART SE COND.
*-*-*.
METHODOLOGY OF PURE PRACTICAL REASON.
METHOD 0 L () GY
OF
PURE PRA () TICAL REA S () N.
Y the methodology of pure practical reason we are not to
understand the mode of proceeding with pure practical
principles (whether in study or in exposition), with a view to a
Scientific knowledge of them, which alone is what is properly
called method elsewhere in theoretical philosophy (for popular
knowledge requires a manner, science a method, i.e. a process
according to principles of reason by which alone the manifold of
any branch of knowledge can become a system). On the con-
trary, by this methodology is understood the mode in which we
can give the laws of pure practical reason access to the human
mind, and influence on its maxims, that is, by which we can
make the objectively practical reason subjectively practical also.
Now it is clear enough that those determining principles of
the will which alone make maxims properly moral and give
them a moral worth, namely, the direct conception of the law
and the objective necessity of obeying it as our duty, must be
regarded as the proper springs of actions, since otherwise legality
of actions might be produced, but not morality of character.
But it is not so clear: on the contrary, it must at first sight seem
to everyone very improbable that, even subjectively, that exhi-
bition of pure virtue can have more power over the human mind,
' [Read “wie’ for ‘die.’]
250 METHODOLOGY OF [301]
and supply a far stronger spring even for effecting that legality of
actions, and can produce more powerful resolutions (300) to prefer
the law, from pure respect for it, to every other consideration,
than all the deceptive allurements of pleasure or of all that may
be reckoned as happiness, or even than all threatenings of pain
and misfortune. Nevertheless, this is actually the case, and if
human nature were not so constituted, no mode of presenting
the law by roundabout ways and indirect recommendations
would ever produce morality of character. All would be simple
hypocrisy; the law would be hated, or at least despised, while it
was followed for the sake of one’s own advantage. The letter
of the law (legality) would be found in our actions, but not the
spirit of it in our minds (morality); and as with all our efforts
we could not quite free ourselves from reason in our judgment,
we must inevitably appear in our own eyes worthless, depraved
men, even though we should seek to compensate ourselves for
this mortification before the inner tribunal, by enjoying the
pleasure that a supposed natural or divine law might be imagined
to have connected with a sort of police machinery, regulating its
operations by what was done without troubling itself about the
motives for doing it.
It cannot indeed be denied that in order to bring an unculti-
wated or degraded mind into the track of moral goodness some
preparatory guidance 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 bring before the mind the pure moral motive,
which, not only because it is the only one that can be the foun-
dation of a character (a practically consistent habit of mind with
unchangeable maxims) (301), but also because it teaches a man
to feel his own dignity, gives the mind a power unexpected even
by himself, to tear himself from all sensible attachments so far
as they would fain have the rule, and to find a rich compensation
for the sacrifice he offers, in the independence of his rational
nature and the greatness of Soul to which he sees that he is
destined. We will therefore show, by such observations as every
One can make, that this property of our minds, this receptivity
[302] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 251
for a pure moral interest, and consequently the moving force of
the pure conception of virtue, when it is properly applied to the
human heart, is the most powerful spring, and, when a continued
and punctual observance of moral maxims is in question, the
only spring of good conduct. It must, however, be remembered
that if these observations only prove the reality of such a feeling,
but do not show any moral improvement brought about by it,
this is no argument against the only method that exists of
making the objectively practical laws of pure reason subjectively
practical, through the mere force of the conception of duty; nor
does it prove that this method is a vain delusion. For as it has
never yet come into vogue, experience can say nothing of its
results; one can only ask for proofs of the receptivity for such
springs, and these I will now briefly present, and then sketch
the method of founding and cultivating genuine moral dis-
positions.
When we attend to the course of conversation in mixed
companies, consisting not merely of learned persons and subtle
reasoners, but also of men of business or of women, we observe
that, besides story-telling and jesting, another kind of enter-
tainment finds a place in them, namely, argument; for stories, if
they are to have novelty and interest, are soon exhausted, and
jesting is likely to become insipid (302). Now of all argument
there is none in which persons are more ready to join who find
any other subtle discussion tedious, none that brings more liveli-
ness into the company, than that which concerns the moral worth
of this or that action by which the character of some person is
to be made out. Persons, to whom in other cases anything
subtle and speculative in theoretical questions is dry and irksome,
presently join in when the question is to make out the moral
import of a good or bad action that has been related, and they
display an exactness, a refinement, a subtlety, in excogitating
everything that can lessen the purity of purpose, and conse-
quently the degree of virtue in it, which we do not expect from
them in any other kind of speculation. In these criticisms
persons who are passing judgment on others often reveal their
own character: some, in exercising their judicial office, especially
252 METHODOLOGY OF [303]
upon the dead, seem inclined chiefly to defend the goodness that
is related of this or that deed against all injurious charges of
insincerity, and ultimately to defend the whole moral worth of
the person against the reproach of dissimulation and secret
wickedness; others, on the contrary, turn their thoughts more
upon attacking this worth by accusation and fault-finding. We
cannot always, however, attribute to these latter the intention
of arguing away virtue altogether out of all human examples
in order to make it an empty name; often, on the contrary, it is
only well-meant strictness in determining the true moral import
of actions according to an uncompromising law. Comparison
with such a law, instead of with examples, lowers self-conceit in
moral matters very much, and not merely teaches humility,
but makes everyone feel it when he examines himself closely.
Nevertheless, we can for the most part observe in those who
defend the purity of purpose in giving examples, that where
there is the presumption of uprightness (303) they are anxious
to remove even the least spot, lest, if all examples had their
truthfulness disputed, and if the purity of all human virtue were
denied, it might in the end be regarded as a mere phantom, and
so all effort to attain it be made light of as vain affectation and
delusive conceit.
I do not know why the educators of youth have not long since
made use of this propensity of reason to enter with pleasure upon
the most subtle examination of the practical questions that are
thrown up ; and why they have not, after first laying the foun-
dation of a purely moral catechism, searched through the bio-
graphies of ancient and modern times with the view of having
at hand instances of the duties laid down, in which, especially by
comparison of similar actions under different circumstances, they
might exercise the critical judgment of their scholars in remark-
ing their greater or less moral significance. This is a thing in
which they would find that even early youth, which is still unripe
for speculation of other kinds, would soon become very acute and
not a little interested, because it feels the progress of its faculty
of judgment; and what is most important, they could hope with
confidence that the frequent practice of knowing and approving
[304] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 253
good conduct in all its purity, and on the other hand of remarking
with regret or contempt the least deviation from it, although it
may be pursued only as a sport in which children may compete
with one another, yet will leave a lasting impression of esteem
on the one hand and disgust on the other; and so, by the mere
habit of looking on such actions as deserving approval or blame,
a good foundation would be laid for uprightness in the future
course of life (304). Only I wish they would spare them the
example of so-called noble (super-meritorious) actions in which
our sentimental books so much abound, and would refer all to
duty merely, and to the worth that a man can and must give
himself in his own eyes by the consciousness of not having
transgressed it, since whatever runs up into empty wishes and
longings after inaccessible perfection produces mere heroes of
romance, who, while they pique themselves on their feeling for
transcendent greatness, release themselves in return from the
observance of common and every-day obligations, which then
seem to them petty and insignificant.”
But if it is asked, what then is really pure morality, by
which as a touchstone we must test the moral significance of
every action, then I must admit that it is only philosophers that
can make the decision of this question doubtful, for to common
sense it has been decided long ago, not indeed by abstract general
formulae, but by habitual use, like the distinction between the
right and left hand. We will then point out the criterion of
pure virtue in an example first, and imagining that it is set
* It is quite proper to extol actions that display a great, unselfish, sympa-
thizing mind or humanity. But in this case we must fix attention not so
much on the elevation of soul, which is very fleeting and transitory, as on
the subjection of the heart to duty, from which a more enduring impression
may be expected, because this implies principle (whereas the former only
implies ebullitions). One need only reflect a little and he will always find
a debt that he has by some means incurred towards the human race (even if
it were only this, that by the inequality of men in the civil constitution he
enjoys advantages on account of which others must be the more in want),
which will prevent the thought of duty from being repressed by the self-
complacent imagination of merit.
254 .* METHODOLOGY OF [305-306]
before a boy of, say ten years old, for his judgment, we will see
whether (305) he would necessarily judge so of himself without
being guided by his teacher. Tell him the history of an honest
man whom men want to persuade to join the calumniators of an
innocent and powerless person (say Anne Boleyn, accused by
Henry VIII. of England). He is offered advantages, great
gifts, or high rank; he rejects them. This will excite mere
approbation and applause in the mind of the hearer. Now
begins the threatening of loss. Amongst these traducers are
his best friends, who now renounce his friendship; near kinsfolk,
who threaten to disinherit him (he being without fortune);
powerful persons, who can persecute and harass him in all places
and circumstances; a prince who threatens him with loss of
freedom, yea, loss of life. Then to fill the measure of suffering,
and that he may feel the pain that only the morally good heart
can feel very deeply, let us conceive his family threatened with
extreme distress and want, entreating him to yield; conceive hum-
self, though upright, yet with feelings not hard or insensible
either to compassion or to his own distress; conceive him, I say,
at the moment when he wishes that he had never lived to see
the day that exposed him to such unutterable anguish, yet
remaining true to his uprightness of purpose, without wavering
or even doubting ; then will my youthful hearer be raised
gradually from mere approval to admiration, from that to
amazement, and finally to the greatest veneration, and a lively
wish that he himself could be such a man (though certainly not
in such circumstances). Yet virtue is here worth so much only
because it costs so much, not because it brings any profit. All
the admiration, and even the endeavour to resemble this character,
rest wholly on the purity of the moral principle, which can only
be strikingly shown (306) by removing from the springs of
action everything that men may regard as part of happiness.
Morality then must have the more power over the human heart
the more purely it is exhibited. Whence it follows that if the
law of morality and the image of holiness and virtue are to
exercise any influence at all on our souls, they can do so only
so far as they are laid to heart in their purity as motives,
[307] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 255
unmixed with any view to prosperity, for it is in suffering that
they display themselves most nobly. Now that whose removal
strengthens the effect of a moving force must have been a
hindrance, consequently every admixture of motives taken from
our own happiness is a hindrance to the influence of the moral
law on the heart. I affirm further, that even in that admired
action, if the motive from which it was done was a high regard
for duty, then it is just this respect for the law that has the
greatest influence on the mind of the spectator, not any preten-
sion to a supposed inward greatness of mind or noble meritorious
sentiments; consequently duty, not merit, must have not only
the most definite, but, when it is represented in the true light of
its inviolability, the most penetrating influence on the mind.
It is more necessary than ever to direct attention to this
method in our times, when men hope to produce more effect on
the mind with soft, tender feelings, or high-flown, puffing-up
pretensions, which rather wither the heart than strengthen it,
than by a plain and earnest representation of duty, which is
more suited to human imperfection and to progress in goodness.
To set before children, as a pattern, actions that are called noble,
magnanimous, meritorious, with the notion of captivating them
by infusing an enthusiam for such actions, is to defeat our
end (307). For as they are still so backward in the observance
of the commonest duty, and even in the correct estimation of it,
this means simply to make them fantastical romancers betimes.
But, even with the instructed and experienced part of mankind,
this supposed spring has, if not an injurious, at least no genuine
moral effect on the heart, which, however, is what it was desired
to produce.
All feelings, especially those that are to produce unwonted
exertions, must accomplish their effect at the moment they are at
their height, and before they calm down; otherwise they effect
nothing ; for as there was nothing to strengthen the heart, but
Only to excite it, it naturally returns to its normal moderate
tone, and thus falls back into its previous languor. Principles
must be built on conceptions; on any other basis there can only
be paroxysms, which can give the person no moral worth, nay,
256 METHODOLOGY OF [308}
not even confidence in himself, without which the highest good
in man, consciousness of the morality of his mind and character,
cannot exist. Now if these conceptions are to become subjec-
tively practical, we must not rest satisfied with admiring the
objective law of morality, and esteeming it highly in reference
to humanity, but we must consider the conception of it in
relation to man as an individual, and then this law appears in a
form indeed that is highly deserving of respect, but not so
pleasant as if it belonged to the element to which he is naturally
accustomed, but on the contrary as often compelling him to
quit this element, not without self-denial, and to betake himself
to a higher, in which he can only maintain himself with trouble
and with unceasing apprehension of a relapse. In a word, the
moral law demands (308) obedience, from duty not from predi-
lection, which cannot and Ought not to be pre-supposed at all.
Let us now see in an example whether the conception of an
action as a noble and magnanimous one, has more subjective
moving power than if the action is conceived merely as duty in
relation to the solemn law of morality. The action by which a
man endeavours at the greatest peril of life to rescue people
from shipwreck, at last losing his life in the attempt, is reckoned
on one side as duty, but on the other and for the most part as a
meritorious action, but our esteem for it is much weakened by
the notion of duty to himself, which seems in this case to be some-
what infringed. More decisive is the magnanimous sacrifice of
life for the safety of one’s country; and yet there still remains
some scruple whether it is a perfect duty to devote one’s self to
this purpose spontaneously and unbidden, and the action has
not in itself the full force of a pattern and impulse to imitation.
But if an indispensable duty be in question, the transgression
of which violates the moral law itself, and without regard to the
welfare of mankind, and as it were tramples on its holiness (such
as are usually called duties to God, because in Him we conceive
the ideal of holiness in substance), then we give our most perfect
esteem to the pursuit of it at the sacrifice of all that can have
any value for the dearest inclinations, and we find our soul
strengthened and elevated by such an example, when we convince
[309] PTRE PRACTICAL REASON. 257
ourselves by contemplation of it that human nature is capable
of so great an elevation above every motive that nature can
oppose to it. Juvenal describes such an example in a climax
which makes the reader feel vividly the force of the spring that
is contained in the pure law of duty, as duty:
(809) 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,
Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas.
When we can bring any flattering thought of merit into our
action, then the motive is already somewhat alloyed with self-love,
and has therefore some assistance from the side of the sensibility.
Dut to postpone everything to the holiness of duty alone, and to
be conscious that we can because our own reason recognises this
as its command and says that we ought to do it, this is, as it were,
to raise ourselves altogether above the world of sense, and there
is inseparably involved in the same a consciousness of the law,
as a spring of a faculty that controls the sensibility; and although
this is not always attended with effect, yet frequent engagement
with this spring, and the at first minor attempts at using it,
give hope that this effect may be wrought, and that by degrees
the greatest, and that a purely moral interest in it may be pro-
duced in us.
The method then takes the following course. At first we
are only concerned to make the judging of actions by moral
laws a natural employment accompanying all our own free
actions, as well as the observation of those of others, and to
make it, as it were, a habit, and to sharpen this judgment, asking
first whether the action conforms objectively to the moral law,
and to what law; and we distinguish the law that merely
furnishes a principle of obligation from that which is really
obligatory (leges obligand; a legibus obligantibus); as for instance
the law of what men's wants require from me, as contrasted with
that which their rights demand, the latter of which prescribes
S
258 METHODOLOGY OF |310–311]
(310) essential, the former only non-essential duties; and thus we
teach how to distinguish different kinds of duties which meet in
the same action. The other point to which attention must be
directed is the question whether the action was also (subjectively)
done for the sake of the moral law, so that it not only is morally
correct as a deed, but also by the maxim from which it is done
has moral worth as a disposition. Now there is no doubt that
this practice, and the resulting culture of our reason in judging
merely of the practical, must gradually produce a certain inte-
rest even in the law of reason, and consequently in morally
good actions. For we ultimately take a liking for a thing, the
contemplation of which makes us feel that the use of our cog-
nitive faculties is extended, and this extension is especially
furthered by that in which we find moral correctness, since it is
only in such an order of things that reason, with its faculty of
determining d priori on principle what ought to be done, can
find satisfaction. An observer of nature takes liking at last to
objects that at first offended his senses, when he discovers in
them the great adaptation of their organization to design, so
that his reason finds food in its contemplation. So Leibnitz
spared an insect that he had carefully examined with the micro-
scope, and replaced it on its leaf, because he had found himself
instructed by the view of it, and had as it were received a benefit
from it.
But this employment of the faculty of judgment, which
makes us feel our own cognitive powers, is not yet the interest
in actions and in their morality itself. It merely causes us to
take pleasure in engaging in such criticism, and it gives to
virtue or the disposition that conforms to moral laws a form of
beauty, which is admired, but not on that account sought after
(laudatur et alget); as everything the contemplation of which
produces a consciousness of the harmony (311) of our powers of
conception, and in which we feel the whole of our faculty of
knowledge (understanding and imagination) strengthened, pro-
duces a satisfaction, which may also be communicated to others,
while nevertheless the existence of the object remains indifferent
to us, being only regarded as the occasion of our becoming aware
[312] PURE PRACTICAL REASON. 259
of the capacities in us which are elevated above mere animal
nature. Now, however, the second exercise comes in, the living
exhibition of morality of character by examples, in which atten-
tion is directed to purity of will, first only as a negative perfec-
tion, in so far as in an action done from duty no motives of
inclination have any influence in determining it. By this the
pupil’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 even real wants, there is proclaimed to him at the same time
a deliverance from the manifold dissatisfaction in which all these
wants entangle him, and the mind is made capable of receiving
the sensation of satisfaction from other sources. The heart is
freed and lightened of a burden that always secretly presses on
it, when instances of pure moral resolutions reveal to the man
an inner faculty of which otherwise he has no right knowledge,
the inward freedom to release himself from the boisterous impor-
tunity of inclinations, to such a degree that none of them, not
even the dearest, shall have any influence on a resolution, for
which we are now to employ our reason. Suppose a case where
I alone know that the wrong is on my side, and although a free
confession of it and the offer of satisfaction are so strongly
opposed by vanity, selfishness, and even an otherwise not ille-
gitimate antipathy to the man whose rights are impaired by me,
I am nevertheless able to discard all these considerations (312);
in this there is implied a consciousness of independence on in-
clinations and circumstances, and of the possibility of being
sufficient for myself, which is salutary to me in general for
other purposes also. And now the law of duty, in consequence
of the positive worth which obedience to it makes us feel, finds
easier access through the respect for ourselves in the consciousness
of our freedom. When this is well established, when a man
dreads nothing more than to find himself, on self-examination,
worthless and contemptible in his own eyes, then every good
moral disposition can be grafted on it, because this is the best,
nay, the only guard that can keep off from the mind the pressure
of ignoble and corrupting motives.
S 2
260 CONCLUSION. [313]
I have only intended to point out the most general maxims
of the methodology of moral cultivation and exercise. As the
manifold variety of duties requires special rules for each kind,
and this would be a prolix affair, I shall be readily excused
if in a work like this, which is only preliminary, I content
myself with these outlines.
CONCI, USION.
---
Two things fill the mind with ever new and increasing admi-
ration and awe, the oftener and the more steadily we reflect on
them : the starry heavens above and the moral law within. I have
not to search for them and conjecture them as though they were
veiled in darkness or were in the transcendent region beyond
my horizon; I see them before me and connect them directly
with the consciousness of my existence. The former begins
from the place I occupy in the external world of sense, and
enlarges (313) my connexion therein to an unbounded extent
with worlds upon worlds and systems of systems, and moreover
into limitless times of their periodic motion, its beginning and
continuance. The second begins from my invisible self, my
personality, and exhibits me in a world which has true infinity,
but which is traceable only by the understanding, and with
which I discern that I am not in a merely contingent but in a
universal and necessary connexion, as I am also thereby with
all those visible worlds. The former view of a countless multi-
tude of worlds annihilates, as it were, my importance as an animal.
creature, which after it has been for a short time provided with
vital power, one knows not how, must again give back the matter
of which it was formed to the planet it inhabits (a mere speck
in the universe). The second, on the contrary, infinitely elevates
my worth as an intelligence by my personality, in which the
moral law reveals to me a life independent on animality and
even on the whole sensible world—at least so far as may be
inferred from the destination assigned to my existence by this
law, a destination not restricted to conditions and limits of this
life, but reaching into the infinite.
[314] CONCLUSION. 261
But though admiration and respect may excite to inquiry,
they cannot supply the want of it. What, then, is to be done in
order to enter on this in a useful manner and one adapted to the
loftiness of the subject P Examples may serve in this as a
warning, and also for imitation. The contemplation of the
world began from the noblest spectacle that the human senses
present to us, and that our understanding can bear to follow in
their vast reach; and it ended—in astrology. Morality began
with the noblest attribute of human nature, the development
and cultivation of which give a prospect of infinite utility; and
ended—in fanaticism or superstition (314). So it is with all
crude attempts where the principal part of the business depends
on the use of reason, a use which does not come of itself, like
the use of the feet, by frequent exercise, especially when attri-
butes are in question which cannot be directly exhibited in
common experience. But after the maxim had come into vogue,
though late, to examine carefully beforehand all the steps that
reason purposes to take, and not to let it proceed otherwise than
in the track of a previously well-considered method, then the
study of the structure of the universe took quite a different
direction, and thereby attained an incomparably happier result.
The fall of a stone, the motion of a sling, resolved into their
elements and the forces that are manifested in them, and treated
mathematically, produced at last that clear and henceforward
unchangeable insight into the system of the world, which as
observation is continued may hope always to extend itself, but
need never fear to be compelled to retreat.
This example may suggest to us to enter on the same path
in treating of the moral capacities of our nature, and may give
us hope of a like good result. We have at hand the instances
of the moral judgment of reason. By analysing these into
their elementary conceptions, and in default of mathematics
adopting a process similar to that of chemistry, the separation of
the empirical from the rational elements that may be found in
them, by repeated experiments on common sense, we may exhibit
both pure, and learn with certainty what each part can accom-
plish of itself, so as to prevent on the one hand the errors of a
262 CONCLUSION. [315]
still crude untrained judgment, and on the other hand (what is
far more necessary) the eatravagances of genius, by which, as by
the adepts of the philosopher’s stone, without any methodical
study or knowledge of nature, visionary treasures are pro-
mised (315) and the true are thrown away. In one word, Science
(critically undertaken and methodically directed) is the narrow
gate that leads to the true doctrine of practical wisdom,' if we
understand by this not merely what one ought to do, but what
ought to serve teachers as a guide to construct well and clearly
the road to wisdom which everyone should travel, and to Secure
others from going astray. Philosophy must always continue to
be the guardian of this science; and although the public does
not take any interest in its subtle investigations, it must take an
interest in the resulting doctrines, which such an examination
first puts in a clear light.
* [Weisheitslehre, vernacular German for Philosophy. See p. 203.]
INTRODUCTION
TO
THE META PHYSIC OF MORALS;
AND
PREFA CE
TO THE
METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS.
bioptotion
TO
T H E M ET A PHY S I C () F M () R A L S.
I.
. . . . . i
• J
of THE RELATION OF THE FACULTIEs of THE HUMAN MIND
TO THE MORAL LAWS,
THE appetitive faculty is the faculty of being by means of
one’s ideas the cause of the objects of these ideas." The
faculty which a being has of acting according to its ideas is
Life. Firstly—Desire or aversion has always connected with
it pleasure or displeasure, the susceptibility to which is called
*[To this definition it has been objected, that “it comes to nothing as
soon as we abstract from eacternal conditions of the result of the desire.
Yet even to the Idealist the appetitive faculty is something, although to him
the external world is nothing.” Answer: Is there not such a thing, as an
earnest longing which yet we are conscious is in vain (ea, gr. Would to God
that man were still living !), and which, though it leads to no deed, is yet
not without results, and has a powerful effect not indeed on outward things,
but within the subject himself (making him ill) P A desire being an effort
(misus) to be, by means of one’s ideas, a cause, still, even though the subject
perceives the inadequacy of these to produce the desired effect, is always a
causality at least within the subject. What causes the mistake here is this :
that since the consciousness of our power generally (in the given case) is at
the same time a consciousness of our powerlessness in respect to the outer
world, the definition is not applicable to the Idealist, although as here we
are speaking only of the relation of a cause (the idea) to the effect (feeling),
the causality of the idea in respect of its object (whether that causality be
internal or external) must inevitably be included in the conception of the
appetitive faculty.”—Rechtslehre, Anhang (to second edition), p. 130.]
266 INTRODUCTION TO THE [10]
feeling. But the converse does not always hold; for a pleasure
may exist which is not connected with any desire of the object,
but with the mere idea which one frames to one’s self of an
object, no matter whether its object exists or not. Secondly—
The pleasure or displeasure in the object of the desire does not
always precede the desire, and cannot always be regarded as its
cause, but must sometimes be looked on as the effect thereof.
Now, the capability of having pleasure or displeasure in an
idea is called feeling, because both contain what is merely sub-
jective in relation to our idea (10), and have no relation to an
object so as to contribute to the possible cognition of it" (not
even the cognition of our own state); whereas in other cases
Sensations, apart from the quality which belongs to them in
consequence of the nature of the subject (ear. gr. red, sweet, etc.),
may yet have relation to an object, and constitute part of our
knowledge; but pleasure or displeasure (in the red or sweet)
expresses absolutely nothing in the object, but simply a relation
to the subject. Pleasure and displeasure cannot be more closely
defined, for the reason just given. We can only specify what
consequences they have in certain circumstances so as to make
them cognizable in practice. The pleasure which is necessarily
connected with the desire of the object whose idea affects feeling
may be called practical pleasure, whether it is cause or effect of
the desire. On the contrary, the pleasure which is not neces-
* We might define sensibility as the subjective element in our ideas; for
it is the understanding that first refers the ideas to an object; i.e. it alone
thinks somewhat by means thereof. Now the subjective element of our idea
may be of such a kind that it can also be referred to an object as contribu-
tory to the knowledge of it (either as to the form or the matter, being called
in the former case intuition, in the latter sensation). In this case sensi-
bility, which is the susceptibility to the idea in question, is Sense. Or
again, the subjective element of the idea may be such that it cannot become
a piece of knowledge, inasmuch as it contains merely the relation of this
idea to the subject, and nothing that is useful for the knowledge of the
object ; and in this case this susceptibility to the idea is called Feeling,
which contains the effect of the idea (whether sensible or intellectual) on
the subject, and this belongs to the sensibility, even though the idea itself
may belong to the understanding or the reason.
[11–12] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 267
sarily connected with the desire of the object, and which, there-
fore, is at bottom not a pleasure in the existence of the object
of the idea, but clings to the idea only, may be called mere
contemplative pleasure or passive satisfaction (11). The feeling
of the latter kind of pleasure we call taste. Accordingly, in a
practical philosophy we can treat this only episodically, not as a
notion properly belonging to that philosophy. But as regards
the practical pleasure, the determination of the appetitive
faculty which is caused, and therefore necessarily preceded by
this pleasure, is called appetite in the strict sense, and habitual
appetite is called inclination. The connexion of pleasure with
the appetitive faculty, in so far as this connexion is judged by
the understanding to hold good by a general rule (though only
for the subject), is called interest, and hence in this case the
practical pleasure is an interest of inclination. On the other
hand, if the pleasure can only follow an antecedent determina-
tion of the appetitive faculty, it is an intellectual pleasure, and
the interest in the object must be called an interest of reason.
For if the interest were one of sense, and not merely founded
on pure principles of reason, sensation must be joined with
pleasure, and thus be able to determine the appetitive faculty.
Although where a merely pure interest of reason must be as-
sumed, no interest of inclination can be substituted for it, yet
in order to accommodate ourselves to common speech, we may
admit an inclination even to that which can only be the object
of an intellectual pleasure—that is to say, a habitual desire
from a pure interest of reason. This, however, would not be
the cause but the effect of the latter interest, and we might
call it the sense-free inclination (propensio intellectualis). Fur-
ther, concupiscence is to be distinguished from the desire itself
as being the stimulus to its determination. It is always a
sensible state of mind, but one which has not yet arrived at an
act of the appetitive faculty.
The appetitive faculty which depends on concepts, in so far
as the ground of its determination to action is found in itself (12),
not in the object, is called a faculty of doing or ſorbearing as we
please. In so far as it is combined with the consciousness of
268 INTRODUCTION TO THE [11–12]
the power of its action to produce its object, it is called
“elective will” [Willkühr = arbitrium]; if not so combined, its
act is called a wish." The appetitive faculty, whose inner
determining principle, and, consequently, even its “good plea-
sure * (Belieben), is found in the reason of the subject, is called
the Rational Will [Wille]. Accordingly the Rational Will is
the appetitive faculty, not (like the elective will) in relation to
the action, but rather in relation to what determines the elective
will [Willkühr] to the action; and it has properly itself no
determining ground; but in so far as it can determine the
elective will, it is practical reason itself.
Under the will may be included the elective will [Willkühr],
and even mere wish, inasmuch as reason can determine the
appetitive faculty; and the elective will, which can be deter-
mined by pure reason, is called free elective will. That which
is determinable only by inclination would be animal elective
will (arbitrium brutum). Human elective will, on the contrary,
is one which is affected but not determined by impulses. It is
accordingly in itself (apart from acquired practice of reason)
not pure; but it can be determined to actions by the pure will.
Freedom of the elective will is just that independence of its
determination on sensible impulses: this is the negative con-
cept of it. The positive is: the power of pure reason to be
* [This important distinction is here explicitly made for the first time.
In the earlier treatises, the word “Wille” covers both significations. In
writing the “ICritik,” Kant saw that much confusion of thought was trace-
able to the use of the same word for two very different things, and in that
treatise he sometimes uses “Willkühr.” His use of the term is, of course,
his own. In the last treatise in the present volume the word “Wille.”
occurs only once or twice. In default of an English word suitable to be
appropriated to the signification of Kant’s “Willkühr,” I have adopted the
compound term “elective will,” reserving “rational will” for “Wille.”
Although the distinction has not been fixed in appropriate terms, it has been
felt and more or less obscurely indicated by many moralists. Indeed it is
implied in S. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, ch. VII., where, for instance, in
v. 15, the subject of 9éAw is I as “Wille,” while that of troué is I as “Will-
kühr.” Compare the words of Kant on the corrupt heart coexisting with
the good “Wille,” p. 352.]
[13] .* METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 269
of itself practical. Now this is possible only by the subordi-
nation of the maxim of every action to the condition of fitness
for universal law. For being pure reason it is directed to
the elective will, irrespective of the object of this will. Now
it is the faculty of principles (in this case practical principles,
so that it is a legislative faculty) (13); and since it is not pro-
vided with the matter of the law, there is nothing which it can
make the Supreme law and determining ground of the elective
will except the form, consisting in the fitness of the maxim
of the elective will to be a universal law. And since from
subjective causes the maxims of men do not of themselves coin-
cide with those objective maxims, it can only prescribe this law
as an imperative of command or prohibition.
These laws of freedom are called, in contradistinction to
physical laws, moral laws. In so far as they are directed to
mere external actions and their lawfulness, they are called
judicial; but whén they demand that these laws themselves
shall be the determining ground of the actions, they are ethical,
and in this case we say—the agreement with the former consti-
tutes the legality, agreement with the latter the morality of the
action. The freedom to which the former laws relate can only
be freedom in its external exercise; but the freedom to which
the latter refer is freedom both in the internal and external
exercise of the elective will in as far, namely, as this élective
will is determined by laws of reason. Similarly, in theoretic
philosophy we say, that only the objects of the outer senses are
in space, while the objects both of the external and of the
internal sense are in time; because the ideas of both are still
ideas, and for this reason all belong to the inner sense. Just
so, whether we regard freedom in the external or the internal
exercise of the elective will, in either case its laws, being pure
practical laws of reason governing free elective will generally,
must be also its internal grounds of determination; although
they need not always be considered in this point of view.
270 INTRODUCTION TO THE [14]
II.
OF THE CONCEPTION AND THE NECESSITY OF A METAPHYSIC
OF ETHICS.
(14) It has been shown elsewhere that for physical science
which has to do with the objects of the external senses we
must have a priori principles; and that it is possible—nay,
even necessary—to prefix a system of these principles under
the name of metaphysical principles of natural philosophy to
physics, which is natural philosophy applied to special phe-
nomena of experience. The latter, however (at least when the
question is to guard its propositions from error), may assume
many principles as universal on the testimony of experience,
although the former, if it is to be in the strict sense universal,
must be deduced from a priori grounds; just as Newton
adopted the principle of the equality of action and reaction as
based on experience, and yet extended it to all material nature.
The chemists go still further, and base their most universal
laws of combination and dissociation of substances by their own
forces entirely on experience, and yet they have such confi-
dence in their universality and necessity that, in the experi-
ments they make with them, they have no apprehension of
€TI’OI’.
It is otherwise with the moral laws. These are valid as
laws only so far as they have an a priori basis and can be seen
to be necessary; nay, the concepts and judgments about our-
selves and our actions and omissions have no moral significance
at all, if they contain only what can be learned from expe-
rience; and should one be so misled as to make into a moral
principle anything derived from this source, he would be in
danger of the grossest and most pernicious errors.
If the science of morals were nothing but the science of hap-
piness, it would be unsuitable to look out for d priori principles
on which to rest it. For however plausible it may sound to
say that reason could discern, even before experience, by what
means one might attain a lasting enjoyment of the true plea-
sures of life, yet everything which is taught on this subject
[15–16] METAPIHYSIC OF MORALS. 271
d priori is either tautological or assumed without any foun-
dation. It is experience alone that can teach us what gives us
pleasure (15). The natural impulses to nutrition, to the propa-
gation of the species, the desire of rest, of motion, and (in the
development of our natural capacities) the desire of honour, of
knowledge, &c., can alone teach, and moreover teach each
individual in his own special way, in what to place those plea-
sures; and it is these also that can teach him the means by
which he must seek them. All plausible d priori reasoning is
here at bottom nothing but experience raised to generality by
induction : a generality, too, so meagre that everyone must be
allowed many exceptions, in order to make the choice of his
mode of life suitable to his special inclination and his suscepti-
bility for pleasure; so that after all he must become wise only
by his own or others’ loss. It is not so with the doctrines of
morality. They are imperative for everyone without regard to
his inclinations, solely because and so far as he is free, and has
practical reason. Instruction in its laws is not drawn from
observation of himself and his animal part ; not from percep-
tion of the course of the world, from that which happens and
from the way in which men act (although the German word
“sitten,” like the Latin mores, signifies only manners and
mode of life); but reason commands how men should act, even
although no instance of such action could be found; moreover,
it pays no regard to the advantage which we may hereby at-
tain, which certainly can only be learned by experience. For
although it allows us to seek our advantage in every way that
We can ; and in addition, pointing to the testimony of expe-
rience, can promise us, probably and on the whole, greater
advantages from following its commands than from transgres-
sion of them, especially if obedience is accompanied by pru-
dence, yet the authority of its precepts as commands does not
rest on this (16). Reason uses such facts only (by way of
counsel) as a counterpoise to the temptations to the opposite,
in order, first of all, to compensate the error of an unfair
balance, so that it may then assure a due preponderance to the
d priori grounds of a pure practical reason.
272 INTRODUCTION TO THE [17]
If, therefore, we give the name Metaphysic to a system of
d priori knowledge derived from mere concepts, then a practical
philosophy, which has for its object not nature but freedom of
choice, will presuppose and require a metaphysic of morals:
that is, to have it is itself a duty, and, moreover, every man has
it in himself, though commonly only in an obscure way; for
without d priori principles how could he believe that he has in
him a universal law-giving P Moreover, just as in the meta-
physic of natural philosophy there must be principles touching
the application to objects of experience of those supreme uni-
versal laws of a physical system generally: so also a metaphysic
of morals cannot dispense with similar principles; and we shall
often have to take the special nature of man, which can only be
known by experience, as our object, in order to eachibit in it the
consequences of the universal moral principles; but this will
not detract from the purity of the latter nor cast any doubt
on their d priori origin—that is to say, a Metaphysic of
Morals cannot be founded on anthropology, but may be applied
to it. - S -
The counterpart of a metaphysic of morals, namely, the
second subdivision of practical philosophy generally, would be
moral anthropology, which would contain the subjective con-
ditions favourable and unfavourable to carrying out the laws of
the power in human nature. It would treat of the production,
the propagation, and strengthening of moral principles (in edu-
cation, school and popular instruction) (17), and other like
doctrines and precepts based on experience, which cannot be
dispensed with, but which must not come before the metaphysic,
nor be mixed with it. For to do so would be to run the risk of
eliciting false, or at least indulgent moral laws, which would
represent that as unattainable which has only not been at-
tained because the law has not been discerned and proclaimed
in its purity (the very thing in which its strength consists);
or else because men make use of spurious or mixed motives to
what is itself good and dutiful, and these allow no certain moral
principles to remain; but this anthropology is not to be used as
a standard of judgment, nor as a discipline of the mind in its
{17] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 273
obedience to duty; for the precept of duty must be given solely
by pure reason d prior?.…
Now with respect to the division to which that just men-
tioned is subordinate, namely, the division of philosophy into
theoretical and practical, I have explained myself sufficiently
elsewhere (in the Critical Examination of the Faculty of Judg-
ment), and have shown that the latter branch can be nothing
else than moral philosophy. Everything practical which con-
cerns what is possible according to physical laws (the proper
business of Art) depends for its precept on the theory of phy-
sical nature; that only which is practical in accordance with
laws of freedom can have principles that do not depend on any
theory; for there can be no theory of that which transcends the
properties of physical nature. Hence by the practical part of
*[“When Philosophy, as containing principles of the rational knowledge
of things through concepts (not merely as Logic does, principles of the form
of thought in general without distinction of its objects), is divided into
theoretical and practical, this is quite right ; but, then, the concepts which
assign to the principles of this rational knowledge their object must be
specifically distinct, otherwise they would not justify a division which
always presupposes a contrast of the principles of the rational knowledge
belonging to the different parts of a science.
Now there are only two kinds of concepts, and these admit as many
distinct principles of possibility of their object, namely, physical concepts
and the concept of freedom. Now as the former make possible a theoretical
knowledge on d priori principles, whereas in respect of these the latter only
conveys in its concept a negative principle (that of mere contrast); while on
the other hand it establishes principles for the determination of the will,
which, therefore, are called practical; hence philosophy is rightly divided
into two parts, with quite distinct principles—the theoretical, which is
natural philosophy, and the practical, which is moral philosophy (for so we
name the practical legislation of reason according to the concept of freedom).
Hitherto, however, there has prevailed a gross misuse of these expressions
in the division of the different principles, and consequently also of philo-
sophy; inasmuch as what is practical according to physical concepts has
been assumed to be of the same kind as what is practical according to the
concept of freedom ; and thus with the same denominations of “theoretical”
and ‘practical’ philosophy, a division is made by which nothing is really
divided (since both parts might have principles of the same kind).”—Kritik
der Urtheilskraft, Einl, p. 8.]
T
274 INTRODUCTION TO THE [18]
philosophy (co-ordinate with its theoretical part) we are to
understand not any technical doctrine, but a morally practical
doctrine; and if the habit of choice, according to laws of free-
dom, in contrast to physical laws, is here also to be called art,
we must understand thereby such an art as would make a system
of freedom like a system of nature possible; truly a divine art,
were we in a condition to fulfil by means of reason the precepts
of reason, and to carry its Ideal into actuality.
III.
(18) of THE SUBDIVISION OF A METAPHYSIC OF MORALs."
All legislation (whether it prescribes internal or external
actions, and these either d priori by pure reason or by the will
of another) involves two things: first, a law, which objectively
presents the action that is to be done as necessary, i. e. makes
it a duty; secondly, a spring, which subjectively connects with
the idea of the law the motive determining the elective will
to this action; hence, the second element is this, that the law
makes duty the spring. By the former the action is presented
as duty, and this is a mere theoretical knowledge of the possible
determination of the elective will, i.e. of practical rules; by the
latter, the obligation so to act is connected with a motive which
determines the elective will generally in the agent.
Accordingly, all legislation may be divided into two classes
in respect of the springs employed (and this whether the
* The deduction of the division of a system : that is, the proof of its
completeness as well as of its continuity, namely, that the transition from
the notion divided to each member of the division in the whole series of
subdivisions does not take place per Saltum, is one of the most difficult
tasks of the constructor of a system. It is even difficult to say what is the
ultimate notion of which right and wrong (fas aut nefas) are divisions. It
is the act of free choice in general. So teachers of ontology begin with
the notions of something and nothing, without being aware that these are
already members of a division of a higher notion which is not given, but
which, in fact, can only be the notion of an object in general.
[19–20 METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 275
actions prescribed are the same or not : as, for instance, the
actions might be in all cases external) (19). That legislation
which at once makes an action a duty, and makes this duty
the spring, is ethical. That which does not include the latter
in the law, and therefore admits a spring different from the
idea of duty itself, is juridical. As regards the latter, it is easily
seen that this spring, which is distinct from the idea of duty,
must be derived from the pathological motives of choice,
namely, the inclinations and aversions, and amongst these
from the latter, since it is a legislation, which must be con-
straining, not an invitation, which is persuasive.
The mere agreement or disagreement of an action with the
law, without regard to the motive from which the action springs,
is called legality; but when the idea of duty arising from the
law is also the motive of the action, the agreement is called
the morality of the action.
Duties arising from forensic legislation can only be external
duties, because this legislation does not require that the idea
of this duty, which is internal, shall be of itself the motive of
the elective will of the agent; and as it, nevertheless, requires a
suitable spring, it can only connect external springs with the
law. On the other hand, ethical legislation, while it makes
internal actions duties, does not exclude external actions, but
applies generally to everything that is duty. But just because
ethical legislation includes in its law the inner spring of the
action (the idea of duty), a property which cannot belong to
the external legislation; hence ethical legislation cannot be
external (not even that of a divine will), although it may adopt
duties which rest on external legislation, and take them re-
garded as duties into its own legislation as springs of action.
(20) From hence we may see that all duties belong to
Ethics, simply because they are duties; but it does not follow
that their legislation is always included in Ethics: in the case of
many duties it is quite outside Ethics. Thus Ethics requires
that I should fulfil my pledged word, even though the other
party could not compel me to do so; but the law (pacta Sunt
servanda) and the corresponding duty are taken by Ethics from
T 2
276 INTRODUCTION TO THE [21]
jurisprudence. Accordingly, it is not in Ethics but in Jus that
the legislation is contained which enjoins that promises be kept.
Ethics teaches only that even if the spring were absent which is
connected by forensic legislation with that duty, namely, ex-
ternal compulsion, yet the idea of duty would alone be sufficient
as a spring. For if this were not so, and if the legislation
itself were not forensic, and the duty arising from it not pro-
perly a legal duty (in contrast to a moral duty), then faithful-
ness to one’s engagements would be put in the same class as
actions of benevolence and the obligation to them, which cannot
be admitted. It is not an ethical duty to keep one’s promise,
but a legal duty, one that we can be compelled to perform.
Nevertheless, it is a virtuous action (a proof of virtue) to do so,
even where no compulsion is to be apprehended. Law and
morals, therefore, are distinguished not so much by the diver-
sity of their duties, but rather by the diversity of the legislation
which connects this or that motive with the law.
Ethical legislation is that which cannot be external (although
the duties may be external); forensic legislation is that which
can be external. Thus to keep one’s contract is an external
duty; but the command (21) to do this merely because it is
a duty, without regard to any other motive, belongs only to the
internal legislation. Accordingly, the obligation is reckoned as
belonging to Ethics, not as being a special kind of duty (a
special kind of actions to which one is bound)—for in Ethics as
well as in law we have external duties—but because in the
supposed case the legislation is an internal one, and can have
no external lawgiver. For the same reason duties of benevo-
lence, although they are external duties (obligations to external
actions), are yet reckoned as belonging to Ethics because the
legislation imposing them can only be internal. No doubt
Ethics has also duties peculiar to itself (ear. gr. duties to our-
selves), but it also has duties in common with law, only the
kind of obligation is different. For it is the peculiarity of
ethical legislation to perform actions solely because they are
duties, and to make the principle of duty itself the adequate
spring of the will, no matter whence the duty may be derived.
[22] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 277
Hence, while there are many directly ethical duties, the internal
legislation makes all others indirectly ethical.
IV.
PRELIMINARY NOTIONS BELONGING TO THE METAPHYSIC OF
MORAT.S.
(Philosophia practica universalis.)
The concept of Freedom is a pure concept of the reason, and
on this account it is as regards theoretical philosophy trans-
cendent, that is, a concept for which there is no corresponding
example in any possible experience, which therefore forms no
object of any theoretic knowledge possible to us, and is valid
not as a constitutive, but simply as a regulative principle of
pure speculative reason, and that a negative one ; but in the
practical exercise of reason it proves its reality by practical
principles (22), which, being laws of a causality of pure reason,
determine the elective will independently on all empirical con-
ditions (sensible conditions generally), and prove the existence
of a pure will in us in which the moral concepts and laws have
their origin.
On this concept of freedom, which (in a practical aspect) is
positive, are founded unconditional practical laws which are
called moral, and these, in respect of us, whose elective will is
sensibly affected, and therefore does not of itself correspond
with the pure will, but often opposes it, are imperatives (com-
mands or prohibitions), and, moreover, are categorical (uncon-
ditional) imperatives, by which they are distinguished from
technical imperatives (precepts of art), which always give only
conditional commands. By these imperatives certain actions
are permitted or not permitted, that is, are morally possible or
impossible; some, however, or their opposites, are morally
necessary, that is, obligatory. Hence arises the notion of a
duty, the obeying or transgressing of which is, indeed, Con-
nected with a pleasure or displeasure of a peculiar kind (that
278 . INTRODUCTION TO THE [23]
of a moral feeling), of which, however, we can take no account
in the practical laws of reason, since they do not concern the
ſoundation of the practical laws, but only the subjective effect in
the mind when our elective will is determined by these ; and
they may be very different in different persons without adding
to or taking from the validity or influence of these laws objec-
tively, that is, in the judgment of the reason.
The following notions are common to both parts of the
Metaphysic of Morals:–
Obligation is the necessity of a free action under a cate-
gorical imperative of reason. The Imperative is a practical
rule by which an action in itself contingent is made necessary;
it is distinguished from a practical law by this (23), that while
the latter exhibits the necessity of the action, it takes no ac-
count of the consideration whether this already inheres by an
internal necessity in the agent (say, a holy being), or whether,
as in man, it is contingent; for where the former is the case
there is no imperative. Accordingly, the imperative is a rule,
the conception of which makes necessary an action that is sub-
jectively contingent, and hence represents the subject as one
who must be constrained (necessitated) to agreement with this
rule. The categorical (unconditional) imperative is one that
does not command indirectly through the idea of an end that
can be attained by the action, but immediately, through the
mere conception of this action itself (its form), thinks it as
objectively necessary and makes it necessary.
No example of an imperative of this kind can be supplied by
any other practical doctrine but that which prescribes obligation
(the doctrine of morals). All other imperatives are technical
and conditioned. The ground of the possibility of categorical
imperatives lies in this, that they refer to no other property
of the elective will (by which any purpose could be ascribed to
it), but only to its freedom. An action is allowed (licitum)
which is not contrary to obligation; and this freedom which
is not limited by any opposed imperative is called right of
action (facultas moralis) [Befugniss]. Hence it is obvious
what is meant by disallowed (illicitum).
{24] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 279
Duty is the action to which a person is bound. It is there-
fore the matter of obligation, and it may be one and the same
duty (as to the action), although the obligation to it may be of
different kinds.
The categorical imperative, since it expresses an obligation
in respect of certain actions, is a moral practical law. But since
obligation contains not only practical necessity (24) (which law
in general expresses), but also constraint, the imperative men-
tioned is either a law of command or of prohibition, according
as the performance or omission is represented as duty. An
action which is neither commanded nor forbidden is merely
allowed, because in respect of it there is no law limiting freedom
(right of action), and therefore also no duty. Such an action
is called morally indifferent (indifferens, adiaphoron, res mera,
Jacultatis). It may be asked: are there any such, and if there
are, then in order that one may be free to do or forbear a thing
as he pleases, must there be, besides the law of command (lea:
praeceptiva, lea, mandati) and the law of prohibition (lea pro-
hibitiva, lea, vetiti), also a law of permission (ſea permissiva) P If
this is the case, then the right of action would not be concerned
with an indifferent action (adiaphoron); for if such an action is
considered according to moral laws, it could not require any
special law.
An action is called a deed, in so far as it comes under laws
of obligation, and, consequently, in so far as the subject is
regarded in it according to the freedom of his elective will, the
agent is regarded as by such an act the author of the effect, and
this, along with the action itself, may be imputed to him if he is
previously acquainted with the law by virtue of which an obli-
gation rests on him.
A Person is the subject whose actions are capable of imputa-
tion. Hence moral personality is nothing but the freedom of a
rational being under moral laws (whereas psychological person-
ality is merely the power of being conscious to oneself of the
identity of one's existence in different circumstances). Hence
it follows that a person is subject to no other laws than those
which he (either alone or jointly with others) gives to himself.
280 INTRODUCTION TO THE [25–26]
(25) That which is not capable of any imputation is called a
Thing. Every object of free elective will which is not itself
possessed of freedom is, therefore, called a thing (res corporalis).
A deed is Right or Wrong in general (rectum aut minus
rectum), according as it is consistent or inconsistent with duty
(factum licitum aut illicitum), no matter what the content or
the origin of the duty may be. A deed inconsistent with duty
is called transgression (reatus).
An unintentional transgression, which, however, may be
imputed, is called mere fault (culpa). An intentional trans-
gression (that is, one which is accompanied by the consciousness
that it is transgression) is called crime (dolus). That which
is right according to external laws is called just (justum); what
is not so is unjust (injustum).
A conflief of thifies (collisio officiorum seat obligationum) would
be such a relation between them that one would wholly or
partially abolish the other. Now as duty and obligation are
notions which express the objective practical necessity of certain
actions, and as two opposite rules cannot be necessary at the
same time, but if it is a duty to act according to one of them,
it is then not only not a duty but inconsistent with duty to act
according to the other; it follows that a conflict of duties and
obligations is inconceivable (obligationes non collidumtur). It
may, however, very well happen, that in the same subject and
the rule which he prescribes to himself there are conjoined two
grounds of obligation (rationes obligandi), of which, however, one
or the other is inadequate to oblige (rationes obligand; non obli-
gantes), and then one of them is not a duty. When two such
grounds are in conflict, practical philosophy does not say that
the stronger obligation prevails (fortior obligatio vincit), but the
stronger ground of obligation prevails (fortior obligand; ratio
vincit).
(26) Binding laws, for which an external lawgiving is
possible, are called in general eaſternal laws (leges easterna).
Amongst these the laws, the obligation to which can be re-
cognized by reason d priori even without external legislation,
are natural though external laws; those on the contrary which,
[27] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 281
without actual external legislation, would not bind at all (and,
therefore, would not be laws), are called positive laws. It is
possible, therefore, to conceive an external legislation which
would only contain [positive]" laws; but then a natural law must
precede, which should supply the ground of the authority of
the lawgiver (that is, his right to bind others by his mere will).
The principle which makes certain actions a duty is a prac-
tical law. The rule which the agent adopts from subjective
grounds as his principle is called his Maarim ; hence with the
same laws the maxims of the agents may be very different.
The categorical imperative, which only expresses in general
what obligation is, is this: Act according to a maxim which
can at the same time hold good as a universal law. You must,
therefore, examine your actions in the first place as to their
subjective principle; but whether this principle is also objec-
tively valid can only be recognized by this, that when your
reason puts it to the test of conceiving yourself as giving
therein a universal law, it is found to be adapted to this
universal legislation.
The simplicity of this law, compared with the great and .
manifold requirements which can be drawn from it, must at
first appear surprising, as must also the authoritative dignity
it presents, without carrying with it perceptibly any motive.
(27) But when, in this astonishment at the power of our reason
to determine choice by the mere idea of the fitness of a maxim
for the universality of a practical law, we learn that it is just
these practical (moral) laws that first make known a property
of the will which speculative reason could never have arrived at,
either from d priori grounds or from experience—and if it did
arrive at it could by no means prove its possibility, whereas
those practical laws incontestably prove this property, namely,
freedom—then we shall be less surprised to find these laws,
like mathematical axioms, undemonstrable and yet apodiotic,
and at the same time to see a whole field of practical cognitions
1 [The original has ‘natural. The emendation, which is clearly neces-
sary, was suggested to me by Mr. Philip Sandford.]
282 INTRODUCTION TO THE [28]
opened before us, in which reason in its theoretic exercise, with
the same idea of freedom, nay, with any other of its supersen-
sible ideas, must find everything absolutely closed to it. The
agreement of an action with the law of duty is its legality
(legalitas); that of the maxim with the law is its morality
(moralitas). Maasim is the subjective principle of action, which
the subject makes a rule to itself (namely, how he chooses to
act). On the contrary, the principle of duty is that which
Reason commands him absolutely and therefore objectively
(how he ought to act). The supreme principle of the order is
therefore: Act on a maxim which can also hold good as a uni-
versal law. Every maxim which is not capable of being so is
contrary to morality.
Laws proceed from the Rational Will; maxims from the
elective will. The latter is in man a free elective will. The
Rational Will, which is directed to nothing but the law only,
cannot be called either free or unfree, because it is not directed
to actions, but immediately to the legislation for the maxims of
actions (and is therefore practical reason itself). Consequently
it is absolutely necessary, and is even incapable of constraint.
(28) It is therefore only the elective will that can be called free.
Ereedom of elective will, however, cannot be defined as the
power of choosing to act for or against the law (libertas indiffe-
rentiae) as some have attempted to define it; although the elective
will as a phenomenon gives many examples of this in experience.
For freedom (as it becomes known to us first through the moral
law) is known to us only as a negative property in us, namely,
the property of not being constrained to action by any sensible
motives. Considered as a noumenon, however, that is, as to the
faculty of man merely as an intelligence, we are quite unable
to explain theoretically how it has a constraining power in respect
of the sensible elective will—that is, we cannot explain it in its
positive character. Only this we can very readily understand:
that although experience tells us that man as an object in the
sensible world shows a power of choosing not only according to
the law but also in opposition to it, nevertheless his freedom as a
being in the intelligible world cannot be thus defined, since phe-
[29] METAPHYSIC OF MORALS. 283
momena can never enable us to comprehend any Supersensible
object (such as free elective will is). We can see also that
freedom can never be placed in this, that the rational subject is
able to choose in opposition to his (legislative) reason, even
though experience proves often enough that this does happen
(a thing, however, the possibility of which we cannot compre-
hend). For it is one thing to admit a fact (of experience); it is
another to make it the principle of a definition (in the present
case, of the concept of free elective will) and the universal
criterion between this and arbitrium brutum seu Servum ; since
in the former case we do not assert that the mark necessarily
belongs to the concept, which we must do in the latter case.
Freedom in relation to the inner legislation of the reason is
alone properly a power; the possibility of deviating from this
is an impotence. How then can the former be defined from the
latter P (29) A definition which over and above the practical
concept adds the earercise of it as learned from experience is a
bastard definition (definitio hybrida) which puts the notion in a
false light.
A Law (a moral practical law) is a proposition which con-
tains a categorical imperative (a command). He who gives
commands by a law (imperans) is the lawgiver (legislator). He
is the author (auctor) of the obligation imposed by the law, but
not always author of the law. If he were so, the law would be
positive (contingent) and arbitrary. The law which binds us
d priori and unconditionally by our own reason may also be
expressed as proceeding from the will of a Supreme Lawgiver,
that is of one who has only rights and no duties (namely, from
the Divine Will). But this only involves the idea of a moral
being whose will is law for all, without his being conceived as
the author of it. .
Imputation (imputatio) in the moral sense is the judgment by
which any one is regarded as the author (causa libera) of an
action, which is then called a deed (factum), and to which laws
are applicable; and if this judgment brings with it the legal
consequences of this deed it is a judicial imputation (imputatio
judiciaria s. valida), otherwise it is only discriminating impu-
284. INTRODUCTION TO THE METAPHYSIC of MoRALs. [80]
tation (imputatio diffudicatoria). The person (whether physical
or moral (who has right to exercise judicial imputation is called
the judge or the court (judev S. forum).
What anyone does in accordance with duty beyond what he
can be compelled to by the law is meritorious (meritum); what
he does only just in accordance with the law is duty owed
(debitum); lastly, what he does less than the law demands is
moral demerit (demeritum). The legal effect of demerit is
punishment (paena); that of a meritorious act, reward (praemium)
(30), provided that this, promised in the law, was the motive).
Conduct which agrees with duty owed has no legal effect. Fair
recompense (remuneratio S. repensio benefica) stands in no legal
relation to the deed.
The good or bad consequences of an obligatory action, or the
consequences of omitting a meritorious action, cannot be imputed
to the agent (modus imputationis tollens).
The good consequences of a meritorious action, and the bad
consequences of an unlawful action, can be imputed (modus im-
gutationis ponens). 4.
Subjectively considered, the degree of imputability (imputa-
bilitas) of actions must be estimated by the greatness of the
hindrances which have to be overcome. The greater the natural
hindrances (of sensibility) and the less the moral hindrance (of
duty), the higher the imputation of merit in a good deed. For
example, if at a considerable sacrifice I rescue from great neces-
sity one who is a complete stranger to myself.
On the other hand, the less the natural hindrance, and the
greater the hindrance from reasons of duty, so much the more
is transgression imputed (as ill desert). Hence the state of
mind of the agent, whether he acted in the excitement of pas-
sion or with cool deliberation, makes an important difference in
imputation.
(217) P REFA C E
TO THE
METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS,
IF there exists on any subject a philosophy (that is, a system
of rational knowledge based on concepts), then there must
also be for this philosophy a system of pure rational concepts,
independent on any condition of intuition—in other words, a
Metaphysic. It may be asked whether metaphysical elements are
required also for every practical philosophy, which is the doc-
trine of duties [deontology], and therefore also for Ethics, in
order to be able to present it as a true science (systematically),
not merely as an aggregate of separate doctrines (fragmenta-
rily). As regards pure jurisprudence no one will question this
requirement; for it concerns only what is formal in the elective
will, which has to be limited in its external relations according
to laws of freedom; without regarding any end which is , the
matter of this will. Here, therefore, deontology is a mere
scientific doctrine (doctrina scientiae).”
* One who is acquainted with practical philosophy is not, therefore, a
practical philosopher. The latter is he who makes the rational end the
principle of his actions, while at the same time he joins with this the neces-
sary knowledge which, as it aims at action, must not be spun out into the
most subtle threads of metaphysic, unless a legal duty is in question ;
in which case meum and tuum must be accurately determined in the balance
of justice (218), on the principle of equality of action and reaction, which
286 PREFACE TO THE [218–219;
(218) Now in this philosophy (of Ethics) it seems contrary to
the idea of it that we should go back to metaphysical elements in
order to make the notion of duty purified from everything em-
pirical (from every feeling) a motive of action. For what sort
of notion can we form of the mighty power and herculean
strength which would be sufficient to overcome the vice-breed-
ing inclinations, if Virtue is to borrow her “arms from the
armoury of metaphysics,” which is a matter of speculation
that only few men can handle. Hence all ethical teaching in
lecture-rooms, pulpits, and popular books, when it is decked
out with fragments of metaphysics, becomes ridiculous. But it
is not, therefore, useless, much less ridiculous, to trace in meta-
physics the first principles of Ethics; for it is only as a philo-
sopher than any one can reach the first principles of this
conception of duty, otherwise we could not look for either
certainty or purity in the ethical teaching. To rely for this
reason on a certain feeling [or sensel, which on account of the
effect expected from it is called moral, may, perhaps, even
satisfy the popular teacher, provided he desires as the criterion
of a moral duty to consider the problem : “if everyone in every
case made your maxim the universal law, how could this law be
consistent with itself?” (219) But if it were merely feeling
that made it our duty to take this principle as a criterion, then
this would not be dictated by reason, but only adopted instinc-
tively, and therefore blindly.
IBut in fact, whatever men imagine, no moral principle is
based on any feeling, but such a principle is really nothing else
than an obscurely conceived metaphysic which inheres in every
man’s reasoning faculty ; as the teacher will easily find who
tries to catechize his pupil in the Socratic method about the
requires something like mathematical proportion, but not in the case of a
mere ethical duty. For in this case the question is not only to know what
it is a duty to do (a thing which on account of the ends that all men natu-
rally have can be easily decided), but the chief point is the inner principle of
the will, namely, that the consciousness of this duty be also the spring of
action, in order that we may be able to say of the man who joins to his
knowledge this principle of wisdom, that he is a practical philosopher.
[220] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 287
imperative of duty and its application to the moral judgment
of his actions. The mode of stating it need not be always
metaphysical, and the language need not necessarily be scho-
lastic, unless the pupil is to be trained to be a philosopher. But
the thought must go back to the elements of metaphysics, with-
out which we cannot expect any certainty or purity, or even
motive power in Ethics.
If we deviate from this principle and begin from patho-
logical, or purely sensitive, or even moral feeling (from what is
subjectively practical instead of what is objective), that is, from
the matter of the will, the End, not from its form, that is the
Zaw, in order from thence to determine duties; then, certainly,
there are no metaphysical elements of Ethics, for feeling by what-
ever it may be excited is always physical. But then ethical
teaching, whether in Schools, or lecture-rooms, &c., is corrupted
in its source. For it is not a matter of indifference by what
motives or means one is led to a good purpose (the obedience to
duty). However disgusting, then, metaphysics may appear to
those pretended philosophers who dogmatize oracularly, or even
brilliantly, about the doctrine of duty, it is, nevertheless, an
indispensable duty for those who oppose it to go back to its
principles, even in Ethics, and to begin by going to school on
its benches.
(220) We may fairly wonder how, after all previous expla-
nations of the principles of duty, so far as it is derived from
pure reason, it was still possible to reduce it again to a doctrine
of Happiness—in such a way, however, that a certain moral hap-
piness not resting on empirical causes was ultimately arrived at,
a self-contradictory nonentity. In fact, when the thinking man
has conquered the temptations to vice, and is conscious of having
done his (often hard) duty, he finds himself in a state of peace
and satisfaction which may well be called happiness, in which
Virtue is her own reward. Now, says the Eudaemonist, this
delight, this happiness, is the real motive of his acting virtu-
ously. The notion of duty, says he, does not immediately deter-
mine his will; it is only by means of the happiness in prospect
288 PREFACE TO THE [221]
that he is moved to do his duty. Now, on the other hand, since
he can promise himself this reward of virtue only from the con-
sciousness of having done his duty, it is clear that the latter
must have preceded: that is, he must feel himself bound to do
his duty before he thinks, and without thinking, that happiness
will be the consequence of obedience to duty. He is thus in-
volved in a circle in his assignment of cause and effect. He can
only hope to be happy if he is conscious of his obedience to
duty; and he can only be moved to obedience to duty if he
foresees that he will thereby become happy. But in this rea-
soning there is also a contradiction. For, on the one side, he
must obey his duty, without asking what effect this will have
On his happiness, consequently, from a moral principle (221); on
the other side, he can only recognize something as his duty
when he can reckon on happiness which will accrue to him
thereby, and consequently on a pathological principle, which is
the direct opposite of the former. -
I have in another place (the Berlin “Monatsschrift” ”),
* [Compare the remarks of Dr. Adams: “The pleasures of self-approba-
tion and esteem which follow virtue certainly arise from a conscious sense
of having made virtue and not pleasure our choice; not from preferring
one interest or pleasure to another, but from acting according to right with-
out any other consideration whatsoever. It seems essential to this pleasure
that no motive of interest have any part in the choice or intention of the
agent. And (2) To make this pleasure an object to the mind, the virtue
whose principle we are seeking after must be already formed. For, let it
be observed, that the pleasures we are speaking of are themselves virtuous
pleasures; such as none but virtuous minds are capable of proposing to
themselves or of enjoying. To the sensual or voluptuous, the pleasures
that arise from denying our appetites or passions have no existence. These
cannot, therefore, be the motive to that virtue which is already presupposed,
. . . It is the same love of virtue which makes it first the object of our
pursuit, and, when acquired, the subject of our triumph and joy. To do a
virtuous action for the sake of these virtuous pleasures is to choose virtue
for the sake of being virtuous, which is to rest in it as an end, or to pursue
it without regard to any other object or interest.”—Sermon on the Obliga-
tion of Virtue (1754), Note 2.]
* [The essay referred to is that “On the Radical Evil in Human
Nature.”]
[222] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 289
reduced, as I believe, to the simplest expressions the distinction
between pathological and moral pleasure. The pleasure, namely,
which must precede the obedience to the law in order that one
may act according to the law, is pathological, and the process
follows the physical order of nature; that which must be preceded
by the law in order that it may be felt is in the moral order.
If this distinction is not observed; if eudaemonism (the prin-
ciple of happiness) is adopted as the principle instead of eleuth-
eronomy (the principle of freedom of the inner legislation), the
consequence is the euthanasia (quiet death) of all morality.
The cause of these mistakes is no other than the following:
Those who are accustomed only to physiological explanations
will not admit into their heads the categorical imperative from
which these laws dictatorially proceed, notwithstanding that they
feel themselves irresistibly forced by it. Dissatisfied at not being
able to eaglain what lies wholly beyond that sphere, namely,
freedom of the elective will, elevating as is this privilege that
man has of being capable of such an idea, they are stirred up
by the proud claims of speculative reason, which feels its power
so strongly in other fields, just as if they were allies leagued in
defence of the omnipotence of theoretical reason, and roused by
a general call to arms to resist that idea; and thus at present,
and perhaps for a long time to come, though ultimately in vain,
to attack the moral concept of freedom, and if possible render it
doubtful.
(222) INTRODUCTION To ETHICs.
Ethics in ancient times signified moral philosophy (philosophia
moralis) [sittenlehre] generally, which was also called the doc-
trine of duties [deontology]. Subsequently it was found advis-
able to confine this name to a part of moral philosophy, namely,
to the doctrine of duties which are not subject to external laws
(for which in German the name Tugendlehre was found suitable).
Thus the system of general deontology is divided into that of
Jurisprudence (Jurisprudentia), which is capable of external laws,
and of Ethics, which is not thus capable, and we may let this
division stand.
TJ
290 PREFACE TO THE [223]
I.—Eagosition of the Conception of Ethics.
The notion of duty is in itself already the notion of a con-
straint of the free elective will by the law; whether this con-
straint be an eaſternal one or be self-constraint. The moral
imperative, by its categorical (the unconditional “ought”),
announces this constraint, which therefore does not apply to
all rational beings (for there may also be holy beings), but
applies to men as rational physical beings (223) who are unholy
enough to be seduced by pleasure to the transgression of the
moral law, although they themselves recognize its authority;
and when they do obey it, to obey it unwillingly (with resistance
of their inclination); and it is in this that the constraint pro-
perly consists.' Now, as man is a free (moral) being, the notion
of duty can contain only self-constraint (by the idea of the law
itself), when we look to the internal determination of the will
(the spring), for thus only is it possible to combine that constraint
(even if it were external) with the freedom of the elective will.
The notion of duty then must be an ethical One.
The impulses of nature then contain hindrances to the fulfil-
ment of duty in the mind of man, and resisting forces, some of
them powerful; and he must judge himself able to combat these
and to conquer them by means of reason, not in the future, but
in the present, simultaneously with the thought; he must judge
that he can do what the law unconditionally commands that
he ought.
1 Man, however, as at the same time a moral being, when he considers.
himself objectively, which he is qualified to do by his pure practical reason
(i.e. according to humanity in his own person), finds himself holy enough to
transgress the law only unwillingly; for there is no man so depraved who in
this transgression would not feel a resistance and an abhorrence of himself,
so that he must put a force on himself. It is impossible to explain the phe-
nomenon that at this parting of the ways (where the beautiful fable places
Hercules between virtue and sensuality) man shows more propensity to obey
inclination than the law. For, we can only explain what happens, by trac-
ing it to a cause according to physical laws; but then we should not be able
to conceive the elective will as free. Now this mutually opposed self-con-
straint and the inevitability of it makes us recognize the incomprehensible
property of freedom.
[224–225] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 291
Now the power and resolved purpose to resist a strong but
unjust opponent is called fortitude (fortitudo) (224), and when
concerned with the opponent of the moral character within us, it
is virtue (virtus, ſortitudo moralis). Accordingly, general deon-
tology, in that part which brings not external, but internal,
freedom under laws, is the doctrine of virtue [ethics].
Jurisprudence had to do only with the formal condition of
external freedom (the condition of consistency with itself, if its
maxim became a universal law), that is, with law. Ethics, on
the contrary, supplies us with a matter (an object of the free
elective will), an end of pure reason which is at the same time
conceived as an objectively necessary end, i. e. as duty for all
men. For, as the sensible inclinations mislead us to ends (which
are the matter of the elective will) that may contradict duty, the
legislating reason cannot otherwise guard against their influ-
ence than by an opposite moral end, which therefore must be
given d priori independently on inclination.
An end is an object of the elective will (of a rational being),
by the idea of which this will is determined to an action for the
production of this object. Now I may be forced by others to
actions which are directed to an end as means, but I cannot be
forced to have an end; I can only make something an end to
myself. If, however, I am also bound to make something
which lies in the notions of practical reason an end to myself,
and therefore besides the formal determining principle of the
elective will (as contained in law) to have also a material prin-
ciple, an end which can be opposed to the end derived from
sensible impulses; then this gives the notion of an end which is
wn itself a duty. The doctrine of this cannot belong to juris-
prudence, but to Ethics, since this alone includes in its concep-
tion self-constraint according to moral laws.
(225) For this reason Ethics may also be defined as the system
of the Ends of the pure practical reason. The two parts of
moral philosophy are distinguished as treating respectively of
Ends and of Duties of Constraint. That Ethics contains duties
to the observance of which one cannot be (physically) forced by
others is merely the consequence of this, that it is a doctrine of
U 2
292 PREFACE TO THE [226]
Ends, since to be forced to have ends or to set them before one’s
self is a contradiction.
Now that Ethics is a doctrine of virtue (doctrina officiorum
virtutis) follows from the definition of virtue given above com-
pared with the obligation, the peculiarity of which has just been
shown. There is in fact no other determination of the elective
will, except that to an end, which in the very notion of it implies
that I cannot even physically be forced to it by the elective will
of others. Another may indeed force me to do something which
is not my end (but only means to the end of another), but he
cannot force me to make it my own end, and yet I can have no
end except of my own making. The latter supposition would
be a contradiction—an act of freedom which yet at the same
time would not be free. But there is no contradiction in setting
before one’s self an end which is also a duty; for in this case I
constrain myself, and this is quite consistent with freedom." But
how is such an end possible P That is now the question. (226) For
the possibility of the notion of the thing (viz., that it is not self-
contradictory) is not enough to prove the possibility of the thing
itself (the objective reality of the notion).
II.-Eagosition of the Notion of an End which is also a Duty.
We can conceive the relation of end to duty in two ways;
either starting from the end to find the marim of the dutiful
actions; or conversely, setting out from this to find the end
which is also duty. Jurisprudence proceeds in the former way.
It is left to every one’s free elective will what end he will choose
for his action. But its maxim is determined d prior; ; namely,
that the freedom of the agent must be consistent with the
freedom of every other according to a universal law.
1 The less a man can be physically forced, and the more he can be morally
forced (by the mere idea of duty), so much the freer he is. The man, for
example, who is of sufficiently firm resolution and strong mind not to give
up an enjoyment which he has resolved on, however much loss is shown as
resulting therefrom, and who yet desists from his purpose unhesitatingly,
though very reluctantly, when he finds that it would cause him to neglect an
official duty or a sick father ; this man proves his freedom in the highest
degree by this very thing that he cannot resist the voice of duty.
[227] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 293
Ethics, however, proceeds in the opposite way. It cannot
start from the ends which the man may propose to himself, and
hence give directions as to the maxims he should adopt, that is,
as to his duty; for that would be to take empirical principles of
maxims, and these could not give any notion of duty; since this,
the categorical “ought,” has its root in pure reason alone. In-
deed, if the maxims were to be adopted in accordance with those
ends (which are all selfish) we could not properly speak of the
notion of duty at all. Hence in Ethics the notion of duty must
lead to ends, and must on moral principles give the foundation
of mawims with respect to the ends which we ought to propose
to ourselves.
Setting aside the question what sort of end that is which is
in itself a duty, and how such an end is possible (227), it is here
Only necessary to show that a duty of this kind is called a duty
of virtue, and why it is so called.
To every duty corresponds a right of action (facultas moralis
generatim), but all duties do not imply a corresponding right
(facultas juridica) of another to compel any one, but only the
duties called legal duties. Similarly to all ethical obligation cor-
responds the notion of virtue, but it does not follow that all
ethical duties are duties of virtue. Those, in fact, are not so
which do not concern so much a certain end (matter, object of
the elective will), but merely that which is formal in the moral
determination of the will (e.g. gr. that the dutiful action must also
be done from duty). It is only an end which is also duty that can
be called a duty of virtue. Hence there are several of the latter
kind (and thus there are distinct virtues); on the contrary, there
is only one duty of the former kind, but it is one which is valid
for all actions (only one virtuous disposition).
The duty of virtue is essentially distinguished from the duty
of justice in this respect; that it is morally possible to be exter-
nally compelled to the latter, whereas the former rests on free
self-constraint only. For finite holy beings (which cannot even
be tempted to the violation of duty) there is no doctrine of
virtue, but only moral philosophy, the latter being an autonomy
of practical reason, whereas the former is also an autocracy of it.
294 PR.EFACE TO THE [228]
That is, it includes a consciousness—not indeed immediately
perceived, but rightly concluded from the moral categorical im-
perative—of the power to become master of one’s inclinations
which resist the law; so that human morality in its highest stage
can yet be nothing more than virtue; even if it were quite pure
(perfectly free from the influence of a spring foreign to duty),
(228) a state which is poetically personified under the name of
the wise man (as an ideal to which one should continually
approximate).
Virtue, however, is not to be defined and esteemed merely as
habit, and (as it is expressed in the prize essay of Cochius)" as a
long custom acquired by practice of morally good actions. For,
if this is not an effect of well resolved and firm principles ever
more and more purified, then, like any other mechanical arrange-
ment brought about by technical practical reason, it is neither
armed for all circumstances, nor adequately secured against the
change that may be wrought by new allurements.
B.EMARK.
To virtue = + a is opposed as its logical contradictory (contra-
dictorie oppositum) the negative lack of virtue (moral weakness)
= 0: but vice = — a is its contrary (contrarie S. realiter opposi-
tum); and it is not merely a needless question but an offensive
one to ask whether great crimes do not perhaps demand more
strength of mind than great virtues. For by strength of mind
we understand the strength of purpose of a man, as a being
endowed with freedom, and consequently so far as he is master
of himself (in his senses) and therefore in a healthy condition of
mind. But great crimes are paroxysms, the very sight of which
makes the man of healthy mind shudder. The question would
therefore be something like this: whether a man in a fit of mad-
ness can have more physical strength than if he is in his senses;
and we may admit this, without on that account ascribing to
him more strength of mind, if by mind we understand the vital
* [Leonhard Cochius, court preacher, who obtained the prize of the Berlin
Academy for his essay, “Uber die Neigungen,” Berlin, 1769.]
[229–230] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS, 295
principle of man in the free use of his powers. For since those
crimes have their ground merely in the power of the inclinations
that weaken reason, which does not prove strength of mind, this
question would be nearly the same as the question whether
a man (229) in a fit of illness can show more strength than
in a healthy condition ; and this may be directly denied, since
the want of health, which consists in the proper balance of all
the bodily forces of the man, is a weakness in the system of
these forces, by which system alone we can estimate absolute
health.
ITT —Of the Reason for conceiving an End which is also a Duty.
An end - an object of the free elective will, the idea of which
determines this will to an action by which the object is produced.
Accordingly every action has its end, and as no one can have an
end without himself making the object of his elective will his
end, hence to have some end of actions is an act of the freedom
of the agent, not an effect of physical nature. Now, since this
act which determines an end is a practical principle which com-
mands not the means (therefore not conditionally) but the end
itself (therefore unconditionally), hence it is a categorical impe-
rative of pure practical reason, and one therefore which combines
a concept of duty with that of an end in general.
Now there must be such an end and a categorical imperative
corresponding to it. For since there are free actions, there must
also be ends to which as an object those actions are directed.
Amongst these ends there must also be some which are at the
same time (that is, by their very notion) duties. For if there
were none such, then since no actions can be without an end,
all ends which practical reason might have would be valid only
as means to other ends, and a categorical imperative would be
impossible; a supposition which destroys all moral philosophy.
(230) Here, therefore, we treat not of ends which man actually
makes to himself in accordance with the sensible impulses of his
nature, but of objects of the free elective will under its own
laws, objects which he ought to make his end. We may call the
former technical (subjective), properly pragmatical, including
296 PREFACE TO THE [231]
the rules of prudence in the choice of its ends; but the latter
we must call the moral (objective) doctrine of ends. This dis-
tinction is, however, superfluous here, since moral philosophy
already by its very notion is clearly separated from the doctrine
of physical nature (in the present instance, anthropology); the
latter resting on empirical principles, whereas the moral doctrine
of ends which treats of duties rests on principles given d priori
in pure practical reason.
IV.- What are the Ends which are also Duties 2
They are—our own Perfection ; The Happiness of
Others.
We cannot invert these, and make on one side our own
happiness, and on the other the perfection of others, ends which
should be in themselves duties for the same person.
For one's own happiness is, no doubt, an end that all men
have (by virtue of the impulse of their nature), but this end
cannot without contradiction be regarded as a duty. What
a man of himself inevitably wills does not come under the
notion of duty, for this is a constraint to an end reluctantly
adopted. It is, therefore, a contradiction to say that a man is
in duty bound to advance his own happiness with all his power.
It is likewise a contradiction to make the perſection of
another my end, and to regard myself as in duty bound to
promote it (231). For it is just in this that the perfection of
another man as a person consists, namely, that he is able of
himself to set before him his own end according to his own
notions of duty; and it is a contradiction to require (to make
it a duty for me) that I should do something which no other
but himself can do.
W.—Ewplanation of these two Notions.
(A.)--Our own Perfection.
The word Perfection is liable to many misconceptions. It
is sometimes understood as a notion belonging to transcen-
dental philosophy; viz., the notion of the totality of the mani-
[232] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 297
fold which taken together constitutes a Thing; sometimes,
again, it is understood as belonging to teleology, so that it sig-
nifies the correspondence of the properties of a thing to an end.
Perfection in the former sense might be called quantitative
(material), in the latter qualitative (formal) perfection. The
former can be one only, for the whole of what belongs to the
one thing is one. But of the latter there may be several in
one thing ; and it is of the latter property that we here treat.
When it is said of the perfection that belongs to man
generally (properly speaking, to humanity), that it is in itself
a duty to make this our end, it must be placed in that which
may be the effect of one’s deed, not in that which is merely an
endowment for which we have to thank nature; for otherwise
it would not be duty. Consequently, it can be nothing else
than the cultivation of one’s power (or natural capacity) and also
of one's will [Wille] (moral disposition) to satisfy the require-
ment of duty in general. The Supreme element in the former
(the power) is the Understanding, it being the faculty of con-
cepts, and, therefore, also of those concepts which refer to duty.
(232) First it is his duty to labour to raise himself out of the
rudeness of his nature, out of his animal nature more and more
to humanity, by which alone he is capable of setting before him
ends, to supply the defects of his ignorance by instruction, and
to correct his errors; he is not merely counselled to do this
by reason as technically practical, with a view to his purposes
of other kinds (as art), but reason, as morally practical, abso-
lutely commands him to do it, and makes this end his duty, in
order that he may be worthy of the humanity that dwells in
him. Secondly, to carry the cultivation of his will up to the
purest virtuous disposition, that, namely, in which the law is
also the spring of his dutiful actions, and to obey it from duty,
for this is internal morally practical perfection. This is called
the moral sense (as it were a special sense, sensus moralis), because
it is a feeling of the effect which the legislative will within
himself exercises on the faculty of acting accordingly. This is,
indeed, often misused fanatically, as though (like the genius
of Socrates) it preceded reason, or even could dispense with
298 PREFACE TO THE [233]
judgment of reason; but still it is a moral perfection, making
every special end, which is also a duty, one’s own end."
(B.)—Happiness of Others.
It is inevitable for human nature that a man should wish
and seek for happiness, that is, satisfaction with his condition,
with certainty of the continuance of this satisfaction. But for
this very reason it is not an end that is also a duty. Some
writers still make a distinction between moral and physical
happiness (the former consisting in satisfaction with one’s per-
son (233) and moral behaviour, that is, with what one does ; the
other in satisfaction with that which nature confers, conse-
quently with what one enjoys as a foreign gift). Without at
present censuring the misuse of the word (which even involves
a contradiction), it must be observed that the feeling of the
former belongs solely to the preceding head, namely, perfection.
For he who is to feel himself happy in the mere consciousness
of his uprightness already possesses that perfection which in
the previous section was defined as that end which is also
duty.
If happiness, then, is in question, which it is to be my duty
to promote as my end, it must be the happiness of other men
whose (permitted) end I hereby make also mine. It still remains
left to themselves to decide what they shall reckon as belonging
to their happiness; only that it is in my power to decline many
things which they so reckon, but which I do not so regard,
supposing that they have no right to demand it from me as
their own. A plausible objection often advanced against the
division of duties above adopted consists in setting over against
that end a supposed obligation to study my own (physical)
happiness, and thus making this, which is my natural and
merely subjective end, my duty (and objective end). This
requires to be cleared up.
Adversity, pain and want, are great temptations to trans-
gression of one's duty; accordingly it would seem that strength,
' [“Object,” first ed.]
[234–235] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 299
health, a competence, and welfare generally, which are opposed
to that influence, may also be regarded as ends that are also
duties; that is, that it is a duty to promote our own happiness,
not merely to make that of others our end. But in that case the
end is not happiness but the morality of the agent; and happi-
ness is only the means of removing the hindrances to morality;
permitted means (234), since no one has a right to demand from
me the sacrifice of my not immoral ends. It is not directly a
duty to seek a competence for one’s self; but indirectly it may
be so ; namely, in order to guard against poverty, which is a
great temptation to vice. But then it is not my happiness but
my morality, to maintain which in its integrity is at once my
aim and my duty.
VI.-Ethics does not supply Laws for Actions (which is done by
Jurisprudence), but only for the Maaims of Action.
The notion of duty stands in immediate relation to a law
(even though I abstract from every end which is the matter of
the law), as is shown by the formal principle of duty in the
categorical imperative: “Act so that the maxims of thy action
might become a universal law.” But in Ethics this is conceived
as the law of thy own will, not of will in general, which might
be that of others; for in the latter case it would give rise to a
judicial duty which does not belong to the domain of Ethics.
In Ethics, maxims are regarded as those subjective laws which
merely have the specific character of universal legislation, which
is only a negative principle (not to contradict a law in general).
How, then, can there be further a law for the maxims of
actions?
It is the notion of an end which is also a duty, a notion peculiar
to Ethics, that alone is the foundation of a law for the maxims
of actions; by making the subjective end (that which every one
has) subordinate to the objective end (that which every one
ought to make his own). The imperative: “Thou shalt make
this or that thy end (e.g. gr. the happiness of others)” (235) applies
to the matter of the elective will (an object). Now since no free
action is possible, without the agent having in view in it some
300 FREEACE TO THE [236]
*
end (as matter of his elective will), it follows that if there is
an end which is also a duty, the maxims of actions, which are
means to ends, must contain only the condition of fitness for a
possible universal legislation; on the other hand, the end which
is also a duty can make it a law that we should have such a
maxim, whilst for the maxim itself the possibility of agreeing
with a universal legislation is sufficient.
Eor maxims of actions may be arbitrary, and are only limited
by the condition of fitness for a universal legislation, which is
the formal principle of actions. But a law abolishes the arbitrary
character of actions, and is by this distinguished from recommen-
dation (in which one only desires to know the best means to
an end).
VII.—Ethical Duties are of indeterminate, Juridical Duties
of strict, Obligation.
This proposition is a consequence of the foregoing; for if the
law can only command the maxim of the actions, not the actions
themselves, this is a sign that it leaves in the observance of it a
latitude (latitudo) for the elective will; that is, it cannot definitely
assign how and how much we should do by the action towards.
the end which is also duty. But by an indeterminate duty is.
not meant a permission to make exceptions from the maxim of
the actions, but only the permission to limit one maxim of duty
by another (236) (ea. gr. the general love of our neighbour by the
love of parents); and this in fact enlarges the field for the prac-
tice of virtue. The more indeterminate the duty, and the more
imperfect accordingly the obligation of the man to the action,
and the closer he nevertheless brings this maxim of obedience
thereto (in his own mind) to the strict duty (of justice) [des
Rechts], so much the more perfect is his virtuous action.
Elence it is only imperfect duties that are duties of virtue.
The fulfilment of them is merit (meritum) = + a ; but their trans-
gression is not necessarily demerit (demeritum) = - a, but only
moral unworth = 0, unless the agent made it a principle not to
conform to those duties. The strength of purpose in the former
case is alone properly called Virtue [Tugend] (virtus); the weak-
[237] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 301
ness in the latter case is not vice (vitium), but rather only lack of
virtue [Untugend], a want of moral strength (defectus moralis).
(As the word ‘Tugend” is derived from “taugen’ [to be good
for something], “Untugend' by its etymology signifies good for
nothing)." Every action contrary to duty is called transgres-
sion (peccatum). Deliberate transgression which has become
a principle is what properly constitutes what is called vice
(vitium).
Although the conformity of actions to justice [Recht] (i.e. to
be an upright [rechtlicher] man) is nothing meritorious, yet the
conformity of the maxim of such actions regarded as duties, that
is, Reverence for justice, is meritorious. For by this the man
makes the right of humanity or of men his own end, and thereby
enlarges his notion of duty beyond that of indebtedness (officium
debiti), since although another man by virtue of his rights can
demand that my actions shall conform to the law, he cannot
demand that the law shall also contain the spring of these
actions. The same thing is true of the general ethical com-
mand, “Act dutifully from a sense of duty.” To fix this,
disposition firmly in one’s mind and to quicken it is, as in the
former case, meritorious (237), because it goes beyond the law of
duty in actions, and makes the law in itself the spring.
But just for this reason those duties also must be reckoned
as of indeterminate obligation, in respect of which there exists
a subjective principle which ethically rewards them ; or to bring
them as near as possible to the notion of a strict obligation, a
principle of susceptibility of this reward according to the law of
virtue ; namely, a moral pleasure which goes beyond mere satis-
faction with one’s self (which may be merely negative), and of
which it is proudly said that in this consciousness virtue is its
own reward.
When this merit is a merit of the man in respect of other
men of promoting their natural ends, which are recognized as
such by all men (making their happiness his own), we might
call it the Sweet merit, the consciousness of which creates a moral
* [Usage gives it a strong meaning, perhaps from euphemism.]
302 IPREFACE TO THE [238]
enjoyment in which men are by sympathy inclined to revel;
whereas the bitter merit of promoting the true welfare of other
men, even though they should not recognize it as such (in the
case of the unthankful and ungrateful), has commonly no such
reaction, but only produces a satisfaction with one’s self, although
in the latter case this would be even greater.
VIII.—Eagosition of the Duties of Virtue as Indeterminate Duties.
(1) our own Perfection as an end which is also a duty.
(a) Physical perfection; that is, cultivation of all our facul-
ties generally for the promotion of the ends set before us by
reason. That this is a duty, and therefore an end in itself, and
that the effort to effect this even without regard (238) to the
advantage that it secures us, is based, not on a conditional
(pragmatic), but an unconditional (moral) imperative, may be
seen from the following consideration. The power of proposing
to ourselves an end is the characteristic of humanity (as distin-
guished from the brutes). With the end of humanity in our
own person is therefore combined the rational will [Vernunft-
wille], and consequently the duty of deserving well of humanity
by culture generally, by acquiring or advancing the power to
carry out all sorts of possible ends, so far as this power is to be
found in man; that is, it is a duty to cultivate the crude capa-
cities of our nature, since it is by that cultivation that the
animal is raised to man, therefore it is a duty in itself.
This duty, however, is merely ethical, that is, of indetermi-
nate obligation. No principle of reason prescribes how far one
must go in this effort (in enlarging or correcting his faculty of
understanding, that is, in acquisition of knowledge or technical
capacity); and besides the difference in the circumstances into
which men may come makes the choice of the kind of employ-
ment for which he should cultivate his talent very arbitrary.
Here, therefore, there is no law of reason for actions, but only
for the maxim of actions, viz.: “Cultivate thy faculties of mind
and body so as to be effective for all ends that may come in thy
way, uncertain which of them may become thy own.”
[239] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 303.
(b) Cultivation of Morality in ourselves. The greatest moral
perfection of man is to do his duty, and that from duty (that
the law be not only the rule but also the spring of his actions).
Now at first sight this seems to be a strict obligation, and as if
the principle of duty commanded not merely the legality of every
action, but also the morality, i.e. the mental disposition, with
the exactness and strictness of a law; but in fact the law com-
mands even here only the maa'im of the action (239), namely, that
we should seek the ground of obligation, not in the sensible im-
pulses (advantage or disadvantage), but wholly in the law; so
that the action itself is not commanded. For it is not possible
to man to see so far into the depth of his own heart that he
could ever be thoroughly certain of the purity of his moral
purpose and the sincerity of his mind even in one single action,
although he has no doubt about the legality of it. Nay, often
the weakness which deters a man from the risk of a crime is
regarded by him as virtue (which gives the notion of strength).
And how many there are who may have led a long blameless
life, who are only fortunate in having escaped so many tempta-
tions. How much of the element of pure morality in their
mental disposition may have belonged to each deed remains
hidden even from themselves.
Accordingly, this duty to estimate the worth of one’s actions
not merely by their legality, but also by their morality (mental
disposition), is only of indeterminate obligation; the law does
not command this internal action in the human mind itself, but
only the maxim of the action, namely, that we should strive
with all our power that for all dutiful actions the thought of
duty should be of itself an adequate spring.
(2) Happiness of others as an end which is also a duty.
(a) Physical Welfare.—Benevolent wishes may be unlimited,
for they do not imply doing anything. But the case is more
difficult with benevolent action, especially when this is to be
done, not from friendly inclination (love) to others, but from
duty, at the expense of the sacrifice and mortification of many
of our appetites. That this beneficence is a duty results from
W
304 PREFACE TO THE [240]
this: that since our self-love cannot be separated from the
need to be loved by others (to obtain help from them in case of
necessity) (240), we therefore make ourselves an end for others;
and this maxim can never be obligatory except by having the
specific character of a universal law, and consequently by means
of a will that we should also make others our ends. Hence the
happiness of others is an end that is also a duty."
I am only bound then to sacrifice to others a part of my
welfare without hope of recompense; because it is my duty, and
it is impossible to assign definite limits how far that may go.
Much depends on what would be the true want of each accord-
ing to his own feelings, and it must be left to each to determine
this for himself. For that one should sacrifice his own happi-
ness, his true wants, in order to promote that of others, would
be a self-contradictory maxim if made a universal law. This
duty, therefore, is only indeterminate ; it has a certain latitude
within which one may do more or less without our being able
to assign its limits definitely. The law holds only for the
"maxims, not for definite actions.
(b) Iſoral well-being of others (salus moralis) also belongs to
the happiness of others, which it is our duty to promote, but
Only a negative duty. The pain that a man feels from remorse
of conscience, although its origin is moral, is yet in its operation
physical, like grief, fear, and every other diseased condition.
To take care that he should not be deservedly smitten by this
inward reproach is not indeed my duty but his business; never-
theless, it is my duty to do nothing which by the nature of man
might seduce him to that for which his conscience may hereafter
torment him, that is, it is my duty not to give him occasion of
stumbling [Skandal]. But there are no definite limits within
which this care for the moral satisfaction of others must be
kept ; therefore it involves only an indeterminate obligation.
* [“Whatever I judge reasonable or unreasonable for another to do for
Me: That, by the same judgment, I declare reasonable or unreasonable
that I in the like case do for Him.”—Clarke's Discourse, etc., p. 33%.
ed. 1728].
[241–242] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTs of ETHICs. 305
(241) IX. —What is a Duty of Virtue 2
Virtue is the strength of the man’s maxim in his obedience
to duty. All strength is known only by the obstacles that it
can overcome; and in the case of virtue the obstacles are the
natural inclinations which may come into conflict with the moral
purpose; and as it is the man who himself puts these obstacles
in the way of his maxims, hence virtue is not merely a self-con-
straint (for that might be an effort of one inclination to constrain
another), but is also a constraint according to a principle of in-
ward freedom, and therefore by the mere idea of duty, according
to its formal law."
All duties involve a notion of necessitation by the law, and
ethical duties involve a necessitation for which only an internal
legislation is possible; juridical duties, on the other hand, one
for which external legislation also is possible. Both, therefore,
include the notion of constraint, either self-constraint or con-
straint by others. The moral power of the former is virtue, and
the action springing from such a disposition (from reverence for
the law) may be called a virtuous action (ethical), although the
law expresses a juridical duty. For it is the doctrine of virtue
that commands us to regard the rights of men as holy.
But it does not follow that everything the doing of which
is virtue is, properly speaking, a duty of virtue. The former
may concern merely the form of the maxims; the latter applies
to the matter of them, namely, to an end which is also conceived
as duty. Now, as the ethical obligation to ends, of which there
may be many, is only indeterminate, because it contains only a
law for the maxim of actions (242), and the end is the matter
(object) of elective will; hence there are many duties, differing
"[This agrees with Dr. Adams' definition of virtue, which, he says,
implies trial and conflict. He defines it, “the conformity of imperfect beings
to the dictates of reason.” Other English moralists use “virtue” in the
sense of Aristotle's &perá. Hence a difference more verbal than real as to
the relation of virtue to self-denial.]
X
306 PREFACE TO THE [243]
according to the difference of lawful ends, which may be called
duties of virtue (officia honestatis), just because they are subject
only to free self-constraint, not to the constraint of other men,
and determine the end which is also a duty.
Virtue being a coincidence of the rational will, with every
duty firmly settled in the character, is, like everything formal,
only one and the same. But, as regards the end of actions,
which is also duty, that is, as regards the matter which one
ought to make an end, there may be several virtues; and as the
obligation to its maxim is called a duty of virtue, it follows that
there are also several duties of virtue.
The supreme principle of Ethics (the doctrine of virtue) is:
“Act on a maxim, the ends of which are such as it might be a
universal law for everyone to have.” On this principle a man
is an end to himself as well as others, and it is not enough that
he is not permitted to use either himself or others merely as means
(which would imply that he might be indifferent to them), but
it is in itself a duty of every man to make mankind in general
his end.
This principle of Ethics being a categorical imperative does
not admit of proof, but it admits of a justification [Deduction]"
from principles of pure practical reason. Whatever in relation
to mankind, to one’s self, and others can be an end, that is an
end for pure practical reason; for this is a faculty of assigning
ends in general; and to be indifferent to them, that is, to take no
interest in them, is a contradiction; since in that case it would
not determine the maxims of actions (which always involve an
end), and consequently would cease to be practical reason (243).
Pure reason, however, cannot command any ends d priori, except
so far as it declares the same to be also a duty, which duty is
then called a duty of virtue.
* [Kant here and elsewhere uses “Deduction” in a technical legal sense.
There is deductio facti, and deductio juris ; Kant's Deduction is exclusively
the latter.]
[244] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 307
X.—The Supreme Principle of Jurisprudence was Analytical;
that of Ethics is Synthetical.
That external constraint, so far as it withstands that which
hinders the external freedom that agrees withºgeneral laws (is
an obstacle of the obstacle thereto), can be consistent with ends
generally is clear on the principle of Contradiction, and I need
not go beyond the notion of freedom in order to see it, let the
end which each may be what he will. Accordingly, the Supreme
principle of jurisprudence is an analytical principle." On the con-
trary, the principle of Ethics goes beyond the notion of external
freedom, and by general laws connects further with it an end
which it makes a duty. This principle, therefore, is synthetic.
The possibility of it is contained in the Deduction ($ ix.)
This enlargement of the notion of duty beyond that of ex-
ternal freedom and of its limitation by the merely formal con-
dition of its constant harmony; this, I say, in which instead
of constraint from without, there is set up freedom within, the
power of Self-constraint, and that not by the help of other
inclinations, but by pure practical reason (which scorns all such
help), consists in this fact, which raises it above juridical duty;
that by it ends are proposed from which jurisprudence altogether
abstracts. In the case of the moral imperative, and the suppo-
sition of freedom which it necessarily involves, the law, the power
(to fulfil it) (244) and the rational will that determines the maxim,
constitute all the elements that form the notion of juridical duty.
But in the imperative, which commands the duty of virtue, there
is added, besides the notion of self-constraint, that of an end;
not one that we have, but that we ought to have, which, there-
fore, pure practical reason has in itself, whose highest, uncon-
ditional end (which, however, continues to be duty) consists
in this: that virtue is its own end, and by deserving well of
men is also its own reward. Herein it shines so brightly as an
* [The supreme principle of jurisprudence is: “Act externally so that
the free use of thy elective will may not interfere with the freedom of any
man so far as it agrees with universal law.”—Rechtslehre, p. 33.]
X 2
308 PREFACE TO THE - [245]
ideal that to human perceptions it seems to cast in the shade
even holiness itself, which is never tempted to transgression."
This, however, is an illusion arising from the fact that as we have
no measure for the degree of strength except the greatness of
the obstacles which might have been overcome (which in our
case are the inclinations), we are led to mistake the subjective
conditions of estimation of a magnitude for the objective con-
ditions of the magnitude in itself. But when compared with
human ends, all of which have their obstacles to be overcome, it
is true that the worth of virtue itself, which is its own end, far
outweighs the worth of all the utility and all the empirical ends
and advantages which it may have as consequences.
We may, indeed, say that man is obliged to virtue (as a
moral strength). For, although the power (facultas) to overcome
all opposing sensible impulses by virtue of his freedom can and
must be presupposed, yet this power regarded as strength (robur)
is something that must be acquired by the moral spring (245)
(the idea of the law) being elevated by contemplation of the
dignity of the pure law of reason in us, and at the same time
also by eacercise.
* So that one might vary two well-known lines of Haller thus:—
“With all his failings, man is still
Better than angels void of will.”
[Haller's lines occur in the poem, liebet ben lirſprung beg liebels"—
,,4)altit (§ott liebt feinen 8pang; bie &eſt mit iſ ten ºtingeſt
Şſt 6effer aſ ein Reid, won miſſeniofen ($ngeln."]
[246] METAPEHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 309
XI.-According to the preceding Principles, the Scheme of Duties
of Virtue may be thus eachibited.
The Material Element of the Duty of Virtue.
,-- —-
ſ \
1. 2.
My own End, which The End of Others,
is also my Duty. the promotion of which
is also my Duty.
d d5
E E
tº (My own Perfec- (The Happiness of i:
B. tion). Others). *5
O Ps
Ps <!-->
---> -
E E
C | 3. 4. C
": | The Law which is The End which is also T
g- e tº
# also Spring. Spring. #
" | On which the Mora- On which the Lega- 5:
lity 1ity
of every free determination of will rests.
\ 2
N-
The Formal Element of the Duty of Virtue.
(246) XII.-Preliminary Notions of the Susceptibility of the Mind
for Wotions of Duty generally.
These are such moral qualities as, when a man does not
possess them, he is not bound to acquire them. They are: the
"moral feeling, conscience, love of one’s neighbour, and respect for
ourselves (self-esteem). There is no obligation to have these, since
they are subjective conditions of susceptibility for the notion of
duty, not objective conditions of morality. They are all sensi-
tive and antecedent, but natural capacities of mind (praedisposito)
to be affected by notions of duty; capacities which it cannot be
310 PREFACE TO THE [247]
regarded as a duty to have, but which every man has, and by
virtue of which he can be brought under obligation. The con-
sciousness of them is not of empirical origin, but can only follow
on that of a moral law, as an effect of the same on the mind.
(A.)—The Moral Feeling.
This is the susceptibility for pleasure or displeasure, merely
from the consciousness of the agreement or disagreement of our
action with the law of duty. Now, every determination of the
elective will proceeds from the idea of the possible action through
the feeling of pleasure or displeasure in taking an interest in it
or its effect to the deed; and here the sensitive state (the affec-
tion of the internal sense) is either a pathological or a moral
feeling. The former is the feeling that precedes the idea of
the law, the latter that which may follow it.
(247.) Now it cannot be a duty to have a moral feeling, or to
acquire it; for all consciousness of obligation supposes this feel-
ing in order that one may become conscious of the necessitation
that lies in the notion of duty; but every man (as a moral being)
has it originally in himself; the obligation then can only extend
to the cultivation of it and the strengthening of it even by admi-
ration of its inscrutable origin; and this is effected by showing
how it is just by the mere conception of reason that it is excited
most strongly, in its own purity and apart from every patho-
logical stimulus; and it is improper to call this feeling a moral
Sense; for the word sense generally means a theoretical power of
perception directed to an object; whereas the moral feeling (like
pleasure and displeasure in general) is something merely sub-
jective, which supplies no knowledge. No man is wholly desti-
tute of moral feeling, for if he were totally unsusceptible of this
Sensation he would be morally dead; and, to speak in the lan-
guage of physicians, if the moral vital force could no longer
produce any effect on this feeling, then his humanity would be
dissolved (as it were by chemical laws) into mere animality, and
be irrevocably confounded with the mass of other physical beings.
But we have no special sense for (moral) good and evil any more
{248] METAPHYSICAI, ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 311
than for truth, although such expressions are often used; but we
have a susceptibility of the free elective will for being moved by
pure practical reason and its law; and it is this that we call the
moral feeling.
(B.)—of Conscience.
Similarly, conscience is not a thing to be acquired, and it is
not a duty to acquire it (248); but every man, as a moral being,
has it originally within him. To be bound to have a conscience
would be as much as to say to be under a duty to recognise
duties. For conscience is practical reason which, in every case
of law, holds before a man his duty for acquittal or condem-
nation; consequently it does not refer to an object, but only
to the subject (affecting the moral feeling by its own act); so
that it is an inevitable fact, not an obligation and duty. When,
therefore, it is said: this man has no conscience, what is meant
is, that he pays no heed to its dictates. For if he really had
none, he would not take credit to himself for anything done
according to duty, nor reproach himself with violation of duty,
and therefore he would be unable even to conceive the duty of
having a conscience.
I pass by the manifold subdivisions of conscience, and only
observe what follows from what has just been said, namely,
that there is no such thing as an erring conscience. No doubt
it is possible sometimes to err in the objective judgment whether
something is a duty or not; but I cannot err in the subjective
whether I have compared it with my practical (here judicially
acting) reason for the purpose of that judgment; for if I erred
I would not have exercised practical judgment at all, and in
that case there is neither truth nor error. Unconscientiousness
is not want of conscience, but the propensity not to heed its
judgment. But when a man is conscious of having acted
according to his conscience, then, as far as regards guilt or in-
nocence, nothing more can be required of him, only he is bound
to enlighten his understanding as to what is duty or not ; but
when it comes or has come to action, then conscience speaks
312 PREFACE TO THE [249-250]
involuntarily and inevitably. To act conscientiously can there-
fore not be a duty, since otherwise it would be necessary to
have a second conscience, in order to be conscious of the act of
the first.
(249) The duty here is only to cultivate our conscience, to
quicken our attention to the voice of the internal judge, and to
use all means to secure obedience to it, and is thus our indirect
duty."
(C.)—of Love to Men.
Love is a matter of feeling, not of will or volition, and I cannot
love because I will to do so, still less because I ought (I cannot
be necessitated to love); hence there is no such thing as a duty
to love. Benevolence, however (amor benevolentiae), as a mode of
action, may be subject to a law of duty. Disinterested benevo-
lence is often called (though very improperly) love ; even where
the happiness of the other is not concerned, but the complete
and free surrender of all one’s own ends to the ends of another
(even a superhuman) being, love is spoken of as being also our
duty. But all duty is necessitation, or constraint, although it
may be self-constraint according to a law. But what is done
from constraint is not done from love.
It is a duty to do good to other men according to our
power, whether we love them or not, and this duty loses nothing
of its weight, although we must make the sad remark that our
species, alas ! is not such as to be found particularly worthy of
love when we know it more closely. Hatred of men, however,
is always hateful: even though without any active hostility it
consists only in complete aversion from mankind (the Solitary
misanthropy). For benevolence still remains a duty even
towards the manhater, whom one cannot love, but to whom
we can show kindness.
To hate vice in men is neither duty nor against duty, but
a mere feeling of horror of vice, the will having no influence on
the feeling (250) nor the feeling on the will. Beneficence is a
* [On Conscience, compare the note at the end of this Introduction.]
[251] º METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 313.
duty. He who often practises this, and sees his beneficent pur-
pose succeed, comes at last really to love him whom he has
benefited. When, therefore, it is said: Thou shalt love thy
neighbour as thyself, this does not mean: Thou shalt first of all
love, and by means of this love (in the next place) do him good;
but : Do good to thy neighbour, and this beneficence will pro-
duce in thee the love of men (as a settled habit of inclination to
beneficence).
The love of complacency (amor complacentiae) would therefore
alone be direct. This is a pleasure immediately connected with
the idea of the existence of an object, and to have a duty to
this, that is, to be necessitated to find pleasure in a thing, is
a contradiction.
(D.)—of Respect.
Respect (reverentia) is likewise something merely subjective;
a feeling of a peculiar kind, not a judgment about an object
which it would be a duty to effect or to advance. For if consi-
dered as duty it could only be conceived as such by means of
the respect which we have for it. To have a duty to this, there-
fore, would be as much as to say, to be bound in duty to have
a duty. When, therefore, it is said: Man has a duty of self-
esteem, this is improperly stated, and we ought rather to say:
The law within him inevitably forces from him respect for his
own being, and this feeling (which is of a peculiar kind) is a
basis of certain duties, that is, of certain actions which may be
consistent with his duty to himself. But we cannot say that he
has a duty of respect for himself; for he must have respect for
the law within himself, in order to be able to conceive duty
at all., -
(251) XIII.-General Principles of the Metaphysio of Morals in
the treatment of Pure Ethics.
Fºrst. A duty can have only a single ground of obligation;
and if two or more proofs of it are adduced, this is a certain
mark that either no valid proof has yet been given, or that
314 PREFACE TO THE [252]
there are several distinct duties which have been regarded as
OIlê.
For all moral proofs, being philosophical, can only be
drawn by means of rational knowledge from concepts, not like
mathematics, through the construction of concepts. The latter
Science admits a variety of proofs of one and the same theorem ;
because in intuition d priori there may be several properties of
an object, all of which lead back to the very same principle.
If, for instance, to prove the duty of veracity, an argument is
drawn first from the harm that a lie causes to other men;
another from the worthlessness of a liar, and the violation of his
own self-respect, what is proved in the former argument is a
duty of benevolence, not of veracity, that is to say, not the
duty which required to be proved, but a different one. Now, if
in giving a variety of proofs for one and the same theorem, we
flatter ourselves that the multitude of reasons will compensate
the lack of weight in each taken separately, this is a very
unphilosophical resource, since it betrays trickery and dis-
honesty; for several insufficient proofs placed beside one another
do not produce certainty, nor even probability. (252) They
should advance as reason and consequence in a series, up to the
sufficient reason, and it is only in this way that they can have
the force of proof. Yet the former is the usual device of the
rhetorician.
Secondly. The difference between virtue and vice cannot be
sought in the degree in which certain maxims are followed, but
only in the specific quality of the maxims (their relation to the
law). In other words, the vaunted principle of Aristotle, that
virtue is the mean between two vices, is false." For instance,
* The common classical formulae of Ethics—medio tutissimus ibis ; omne
nimium vertitur in vitium ; est modus in rebus, &c.; medium tenuere beat ;
virtus est medium vitiorum et utrinque reductum—contain a poor sort of
wisdom, which has no definite principles: for this mean between two
extremes, who will assign it for me P. Avarice (as a vice) is not distin-
guished from frugality (as a virtue) by merely being the latter pushed too
far; but has a quite different principle (maxim), namely, placing the end of
economy not in the enjoyment of one's means, but in the mere possession
[253] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 315
suppose that good management is given as the mean between
two vices, prodigality and avarice ; then its origin as a virtue
can neither be defined as the gradual diminution of the former
vice (by saving) nor as the increase of the expenses of the
miserly. These vices, in fact, cannot be viewed as if they, pro-
ceeding as it were in opposite directions, met together in good
management; but each of them has its own maxim, which
necessarily contradicts that of the other.
(258) For the same reason, no vice can be defined as an
ea cess in the practice of certain actions beyond what is proper
(e.g. Prodigalitas est eacessus in consumendis opibus); or, as a
less exercise of them than is fitting (Avaritia est defectus, &c.).
For since in this way the degree is left quite undefined, and the
question whether conduct accords with duty or not, turns wholly
On this, such an account is of no use as a definition."
Thirdly. Ethical virtue must not be estimated by the power
we attribute to man of fulfilling the law; but conversely, the
of them, renouncing enjoyment; just as the vice of prodigality is not to be
sought in the excessive enjoyment of one's means, but in the bad maxim
which makes the use of them, without regard to their maintenance, the
sole end. -
* [“The assertion that we should do nothing either too little or too
much means nothing, for it is tautological. What is it to do too much P
Answer—More than is right. What is it to do too little P Answer—To
do less than is right. What is the meaning of, I ought (to do something,
or leave it undone) P Answer—It is not right (against duty) to do more or W
less than is right. If that is the wisdom for which we must go back to the
ancients (to Aristotle), as if they were nearer the source, we have chosen ill
in turning to their oracle. Between truth and falsehood (which are contra-
dictories) there is no mean; there may be, however, between frankness and
reserve (which are contraries). In the case of the man who declares his
opinion, all that he says is true, but he does not say all the truth. Now, it
is very natural to ask the moral teacher to point out to me this mean.
This, however, he cannot do, for both duties have a certain latitude in their
application, and the right thing to do can only be decided by the judgment,
according to rules of prudence (pragmatical rules), not those of morality
(moral rules), that is to say, not as strict duty (officium strictum), but as
indeterminate (officium latum). Hence the man who follows the principles
of virtue may indeed commit a fault (peecatum) in his practice, in doing
316 - PREFACE TO THE [254]
moral power must be estimated by the law, which commands
categorically ; not, therefore, by the empirical knowledge that
we have of men as they are, but by the rational knowledge
how, according to the idea of humanity, they ought to be.
These three maxims of the scientific treatment of Ethics are
opposed to the older apophthegms:—
1. There is only one virtue and only one vice.
2. Virtue is the observance of the mean path between two
opposite vices.
3. Virtue (like prudence) must be learned from experience.
XIV.—Of Virtue in General.
Virtue signifies a moral strength of Will [Wille]. But this
does not exhaust the notion; for such strength might also
belong to a holy (superhuman) being, in whom no opposing
impulse counteracts the law of his rational Will; who therefore
willingly does everything in accordance with the law. Virtue
then is the moral strength of a man’s Will [Wille] in his
obedience to duty; and this is a moral necessitation by his own
law giving reason (254), inasmuch as this constitutes itself a
power eaecuting the law. It is not itself a duty, nor is it a
duty to possess it (otherwise we should be in duty bound to
have a duty), but it commands, and accompanies its command
with a moral constraint (one possible by laws of internal free-
more or less than prudence prescribes; but adhering strictly to these
principles, he does not commit a vice (vitium), and the verse of Horace—
Insani sapiens nomen ferat, aquus iniqui,
Ultra quam satis est virtutem si petat ipsam—
literally understood, is fundamentally false. But perhaps sapiens here
means only a prudent man, who does not form a chimerical notion of
virtuous perfection. This perfection being an Ideal, demands approxima-
tion to this end, but not the complete attainment of it, which surpasses.
human powers, and introduces absurdity (chimerical imagination) into its
principle. For to be quite too virtuous, that is, to be quite too devoted to
duty, would be about the same as to speak of making a circle quite too
round, or a straight line quite too straight.”—Tugendlehre, p. 287, note.]
[255] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 317
dom). But since this should be irresistible, strength is requisite,
and the degree of this strength can be estimated only by the
magnitude of the hindrances which man creates for himself by
his inclinations. Vices, the brood of unlawful dispositions, are
the monsters that he has to combat; wherefore this moral
strength as fortitude (fortitudo moralis) constitutes the greatest
and only true martial glory of man; it is also called the true
wisdom, namely, the practical, because it makes the ultimate end
[= final cause] of the existence of man on earth its own end.
Its possession alone makes man free, healthy, rich, a king, &c.,
nor can either chance or fate deprive him of this, since he
possesses himself, and the virtuous cannot lose his virtue.
All the enconiums bestowed on the ideal of humanity in its
moral perfection can lose nothing of their practical reality by
the examples of what men now are, have been, or will probably
be hereafter ; Anthropology which proceeds from mere empirical
knowledge cannot impair anthroponomy which is erected by the
unconditionally legislating reason; and although virtue may
now and then be called meritorious (in relation to men, not to
the law), and be worthy of reward, yet in itself, as it is its own
end, so also it must be regarded as its own reward.
Virtue considered in its complete perfection is therefore re-
garded not as if man possessed virtue, but as if virtue possessed
the man (255), since in the former case it would appear as though
he had still had the choice (for which he would then require
another virtue, in order to select virtue from all other wares
offered to him). To conceive a plurality of virtues (as we
unavoidably must) is nothing else but to conceive various moral
objects to which the (rational) will is led by the single principle
of virtue ; and it is the same with the opposite vices. The
expression which personifies both is a contrivance for affecting
the sensibility, pointing, however, to a moral sense. Hence it
follows that an Aesthetic of Morals is not a part, but a subjec-
tive exposition, of the Metaphysic of Morals, in which the
emotions that accompany the necessitating force of the moral
law make the efficiency of that force to be felt ; for example:
disgust, horror, &c., which give a sensible form to the moral
3.18 PREFACE TO THE - [256.]
aversion in order to gain the precedence from the merely sensible
incitement.
XV.—Of the Principle on which Ethics is separated from
Jurisprudence.
This separation, on which the subdivision of moral philosophy
in general rests, is founded on this: that the notion of Freedom,
which is common to both, makes it necessary to divide duties
into those of external and those of internal freedom ; the latter
of which alone are ethical. Hence this internal freedom which
is the condition of all ethical duty must be discussed as a pre-
liminary (discursus praeliminaris), just as above the doctrine of
conscience was discussed as the condition of all duty.
(256) REMARKs.
Of the Doctrine of Virtue on the Principle of Internal Freedom.
IIabit (habitus) is a facility of action and a subjective per-
fection of the elective will. But not every such facility is a free
habit (habitus libertatis); for if it is custom (assuetudo) that is a
uniformity of action which, by frequent repetition, has become a
necessity, then it is not a habit proceeding from freedom, and
therefore not a moral habit. Virtue therefore cannot be defined
as a habit of free law-abiding actions, unless indeed we add
“determining itself in its action by the idea of the law'”; and
then this habit is not a property of the elective will, but of the
Rational Will, which is a faculty that in adopting a rule also
declares it to be a universal law, and it is only such a habit that
can be reckoned as virtue. Two things are required for internal
freedom: to be master of one’s self in a given case (animus Sui
compos), and to have command over one’s self (imperium in Semet-
'psum), that is to subdue his emotions and to govern his passions.
With these conditions the character (indoles) is noble (erecta); in
the opposite case it is ignoble (indoles abjecta serva).
[257–258] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 319
XVI.-Virtue requires, first of all, Command over One’s Self.
Emotions and Passions are essentially distinct ; the former
belong to feeling in so far as this coming before reflection makes
it more difficult or even impossible. Hence emotion is called
hasty [jāh (animus praeceps) (257). And reason declares through
the notion of virtue that a man should collect himself; but this
weakness in the life of one’s understanding, joined with the
strength of a mental excitement, is only a lack of virtue (Untu-
gend), and as it were a weak and childish thing, which may very
well consist with the best will, and has further this one good
thing in it, that this storm soon subsides. A propensity to
emotion (ex. gr. resentment) is therefore not so closely related to
vice as passion is. Passion, on the other hand, is the sensible
appetite grown into a permanent inclination (ex. gr. hatred in
contrast to resentment). The calmness with which one indulges
it leaves room for reflection and allows the mind to frame prin-
ciples thereon for itself; and thus when the inclination falls upon
what contradicts the law, to brood on it, to allow it to root itself
deeply, and thereby to take up evil (as of set purpose) into one's
maxim ; and this is then specifically evil, that is, it is a true vice.
Virtue therefore, in so far as it is based on internal freedom,
contains a positive command for man, namely, that he should
bring all his powers and inclinations under his rule (that of
reason); and this is a positive precept of command over himself
which is additional to the prohibition, namely, that he should
not allow himself to be governed by his feelings and inclinations
(the duty of apathy); since, unless reason takes the reins of
government into its own hands, the feelings and inclinations
play the master over the man.
XVII.-Virtue necessarily presupposes Apathy (considered as
Strength).
This word (apathy) has come into bad repute, just as if it
meant want of feeling, and therefore subjective indifference with
respect to the objects of the elective will (258); it is supposed
320 PREFACE TO THE [259]
to be a weakness. This misconception may be avoided by giving
the name moral apathy to that want of emotion which is to be
distinguished from indifference. In the former the feelings
arising from sensible impressions lose their influence on the
moral feeling only because the respect for the law is more
powerful than all of them together. It is only the apparent
strength of a fever patient that makes even the lively sympathy
with good rise to an emotion, or rather degenerate into it. Such
an emotion is called enthusiasm, and it is with reference to this
that we are to explain the moderation which is usually recom-
mended in virtuous practices—
“Insani sapiens nomen ferat, aequus iniqui
Ultra quam satis est virtutem si petat ipsam.”—HoR.
For otherwise it is absurd to imagine that one could be too wise
or too virtuous. The emotion always belongs to the sensibility,
no matter by what sort of object it may be excited. The true
strength of virtue is the mind at rest, with a firm, deliberate
resolution to bring its law into practice. That is the state of
health in the moral life; on the contrary, the emotion, even
when it is excited by the idea of the good, is a momentary glitter
which leaves exhaustion after it. We may apply the term
fantastically virtuous to the man who will admit nothing to be
&ndifferent in respect of morality (adiaphora), and who strews all
his steps with duties, as with traps, and will not allow it to be
indifferent whether a man eat fish or flesh, drink beer or wine,
when both agree with him—a micrology which, if adopted into
the doctrine of virtue, would make its rule a tyranny.
(259) REMARK.
Wirtue is always in progress, and yet always begins from
the beginning. The former follows from the fact that, objectively
considered, it is an ideal and unattainable, and yet it is a duty
constantly to approximate to it. The second [characteristic) is
founded subjectively on the nature of man which is affected
by inclinations, under the influence of which virtue, with its
[25] METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTS OF ETHICS. 321
maxims adopted once for all, can never settle in a position of
rest; but if it is not rising, inevitably falls; because moral
maxims cannot, like technical, be based on custom (for this
belongs to the physical character of the determination of will);
but even if the practice of them become a custom, the agent
would thereby lose the freedom in the choice of his maxims,
which freedom is the character of an action done from duty.
[The two remaining sections discuss the proper division of
Ethics, and have no interest apart from the treatise to which
they are introductory. They are therefore not translated. I
add some remarks on Conscience, taken from the “Tugend
lehre’ itself.] -
©n Conscience.
The consciousness of an internal tribunal in man (before
which “his thoughts accuse or excuse one another ”) is Con-
science. º -
Every man has a conscience, and finds himself observed by
an inward judge which threatens and keeps him in awe (reve-
rence combined with fear); and this power which watches over
the laws within him is not something which he himself (arbi-
trarily) makes, but it is incorporated in his being. It follows
him like his shadow, when he thinks to escape. He may in-
deed stupefy himself with pleasures and distractions, but can-
not avoid now and then coming to himself or awaking, and
then he at once perceives its awful voice. In his utmost depra-
vity he may, indeed, pay no attention to it, but he cannot
avoid hearing it.
Now this original intellectual and (as a conception of duty)
moral capacity, called conscience, has this peculiarity in it, that
although its business is a business of man with himself, yet he
finds himself compelled by his reason to transact it as if at
the command of another person. For the transaction here is
the conduct of a trial (causa) before a tribunal. But that he
who is accused by his conscience should be conceived as one and
the same person with the judge is an absurd conception of a
judicial court; for then the complainant would always lose his
Y
322 PREFACE TO THE METAPHYSICAL ELEMENTs of ETHICs. [25]
case. Therefore in all duties the conscience of the man must
regard another than himself as the judge of his actions, if it is
to avoid self-contradiction. Now this other may be an actual
or a merely ideal person which reason frames to itself." Such
an idealized person (the authorized judge of conscience) must be
one who knows the heart; for the tribunal is set up in the inward
part of man; at the same time he must also be all-obliging, that
is, must be or be conceived as a person in respect of whom all
duties are to be regarded as his commands; since conscience is
the inward judge of all free actions. Now, since such a moral
being must at the same time possess all power (in heaven and
earth), since otherwise he could not give his commands their
proper effect (which the office of judge necessarily requires), and
since such a moral being possessing power over all is called God,
hence conscience must be conceived as the subjective principle
of a responsibility for one’s deeds before God; nay, this latter
concept is contained (though it be only obscurely) in every moral
Self-consciousness.”—Tugendlehre, p. 293, ff.
* [In a footnote, Kant explains this double personality of a man as both
the accuser and the judge, by reference to the homo noumenon, and its specific.
difference from the rationally endowed homo sensibilis.]
FIRST PART
OF
THE PHILOSOPHICAL THEORY OF RELIGION.
(*) OF THE IND WELLING
OF THE
BAD PRINCIPLE ALONG WITH THE GOOD;
ON THE RADICAL EVIL IN HUMAN NATURE.
HAT the world lieth in wickedness is a complaint as old as
history, even as what is still older, poetry; indeed, as old
as the oldest of all poems, Sacerdotal religion. All alike, never-
theless, make the world begin from good; with the golden age,
with life in paradise, or one still more happy in communion
with heavenly beings. But they represent this happy state as
Soon vanishing like a dream, and then they fall into badness
(moral badness, which is always accompanied by physical), as
hastening to worse and worse with accelerated steps; so that
we are now living (this now being however as old as history)
in the last times, the last day and the destruction of the world
are at the door; and in some parts of Hindostan (20) the judge
and destroyer of the world, Rudra (otherwise called Siva), is
already worshipped as the God that is at present in power;
the preserver of the world, namely, Vishnu, having centuries
ago laid down his office, of which he was weary, and which
he had received from the creator of the world, Brahma.
* Aetas parentum, pejor avis, tulit
Nos nequiores, mox daturos
Progeniem vitiosiorem.
HORATIUS.
326 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE - [20]
Later, but much less general, is the opposite heroic opinion,
which has perhaps obtained currency only amongst philoso-
phers, and in our times chiefly amongst instructors of youth ;
that the world is constantly advancing in precisely the reverse
direction, namely, from worse to better (though almost insen-
sibly): at least, that the capacity for such advance exists in
human nature. This opinion, however, is certainly not founded
on experience, if what is meant is moral good or evil (not civi-
lization), for the history of all times speaks too powerfully
against it, but it is probably a good-natured hypothesis of
moralists from Seneca to Rousseau, so as to urge man to the
unwearied cultivation of the germ of good that perhaps lies in
us, if one can reckon on such a natural foundation in man."
There is also the consideration that as we must assume that
“[One of Rousseau's earliest literary efforts was on this subject, which
had been proposed for discussion by the Academy of Dijon. He defended
the thesis that the advance in science and arts was not favourable to morals.
Kant's own view is stated thus in the treatise : “Das mag in der Theorie,
ul. S. w.,” publ. in 1793. He is commenting on Mendelssohn, who had
treated Lessing’s hypothesis of a divine education of mankind as a delusion,
saying that the human race never made a few steps forward without pre-
sently after slipping back with redoubled velocity into its former position.
This, says Kant, is like the stone of Sisyphus, and this view makes the
earth a sort of purgatory for old and forgotten sins. He proceeds thus:
“I shall venture to assume that, as the human race is constantly advancing
in respect of culture, as it is designed to do, so also, as regards the moral
end of its existence, it is constantly progressing, and this progress is never
broken off, although it may be sometimes interrupted. It is not necessary
for me to prove this ; it is for those who take the opposite view to prove
their case,” viz. because it is my duty to strive to promote this improve- .
ment (p. 222). “Many proofs, too, may be given that the human race, on
the whole, especially in our own, as compared with all preceding times, has
made considerable advances morally for the better (temporary checks do not
prove anything against this); and that the cry of the continually-increasing
degradation of the race arises just from this, that when one stands on
a higher step of morality he sees further before him, and his judgment on
what men are as compared with what they ought to be is more strict. Our
self-blame is, consequently, more severe the more steps of morality we have
already ascended in the whole course of the world's history as known to us.”
(p. 224).]
[21] IN HIJMAN NATURE. 327
man is by nature (that is, as he is usually born) sound in body,
there is thought to be no reason why we should not assume that
he is also by nature sound in soul, so that nature itself helps us
to develop this moral capacity for good within us. “Sanabili-
bus aegrotamus malis, nosque in rectum genitos natura, si sanari
velimus, adjuvat,” says Seneca.
But since it may well be that there is error in the supposed
experience on both sides, the question is, whether a mean is not
at least possible, namely, that man as a species may be neither
good nor bad, or at all events that he is as much one as the
other, partly good, partly bad? (21) We call a man bad, however,
not because he performs actions that are bad (violating law),
but because these are of such a kind that we may infer from
them bad maxims in him. Now although we can in experience
observe that actions violate laws, and even (at least in our-
selves) that they do so consciously; yet we cannot observe the
maxims themselves, not even always in ourselves: consequently,
the judgment that the doer of them is a bad man cannot with
certainty be founded on experience. In order then to call a
man bad, it should be possible to argue d priori from some
actions, or from a single consciously bad action, to a bad
maxim as its foundation, and from this to a general source
in the actor of all particular morally bad maxims, this source
again being itself a maxim.
Lest any difficulty should be found in the expression nature,
which, if it meant (as usual) the opposite of the source of actions
from freedom, would be directly contradictory to the predicates
morally good or evil, it is to be observed, that by the nature of
man we mean here only the subjective ground of the use of his
freedom in general (under objective moral laws) which precedes
every act that falls under the senses, wherever this ground lies.
This subjective ground, however, must itself again be always
an act of freedom (else the use or abuse of man’s elective will
in respect of the moral law could not be imputed to him nor
the good or bad in him be called moral). Consequently, the
source of the bad cannot lie in any object that determines the
elective will through inclination, or in any natural impulse, but
328 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE [22]
only in a rule that the elective will makes for itself for the use
of its freedom, that is, in a maxim. Now we cannot go on to
ask concerning this, What is the subjective ground why it is
adopted, and not the opposite maxim P (22) For if this ground
were ultimately not now a maxim but a mere natural impulse,
then the use of freedom would be reduced to determination by
natural causes, which is contradictory to its conception. When
we say then, man is by nature good, or, he is by nature bad,
this only means that he contains a primary source (to us in-
scrutable)" of the adoption of good or of the adoption of bad
(law violating) maxims: and this generally as man, and con-
sequently so that by this he expresses the character of his
species.
We shall say then of one of these characters (which dis-
tinguishes man from other possible rational beings, it is innate,
and yet we must always remember that Nature is not to bear
the blame of it (if it is bad), or the credit (if it is good), but
that the man himself is the author of it. But since the pri-
mary source of the adoption of our maxims, which itself must
again always lie in the free elective will, cannot be a fact of
experience, hence the good or bad in man (as the subjective
primary source of the adoption of this or that maxim in respect
of the moral law) is innate merely in this sense, that it is in
force before any use of freedom is experienced (23) (in the ear-
liest childhood back to birth) so that it is conceived as being
present in man at birth, not that birth is the cause of it.
* That the primary subjective source of the adoption of moral maxims is
inscrutable may be seen even from this, that as this adoption is free, its
Source (the reason why, eac. gr., I have adopted a bad and not rather a good
maxim) must not be looked for in any natural impulse, but always again
in a maxim ; and as this also must have its ground, and maxims are the
only determining principles of the free elective will that can or ought to
be adduced, we are always driven further back ad infinitum in the series of
subjective determining principles, without being able to reach the primary
SOUll’Cé.
[23-24] IN HO MAN NATURE. 329
BEMARK.
The conflict between the two above-mentioned hypotheses
rests on a disjunctive proposition; man is (by nature) either
morally good or morally bad. But it readily occurs to every
one to ask whether this disjunction is correct, and whether one
might not affirm that man is by nature neither, or another that
he is both at once, namely, in some parts good, in others bad.
Experience seems even to confirm this mean between the two
extremes.
It is in general, however, important for Ethics to admit, as
far as possible, no intermediates, either in actions (adiaphora) or
in human characters; since with such ambiguity all maxims
would run the risk of losing all definiteness and firmness.
Those who are attached to this strict view are commonly called
rigourists (a name that is meant as a reproach, but which is
really praise): and their antipodes may be called latitudinarians.
The latter are either latitudinarians of neutrality, who may
be called indifferentists, or of compromise, who may be called
syncretists."
1 If good = a, its contradictory is the not-good. This is the result either
of the mere absence of a principle of good = 0, or of a positive principle of
the opposite = — a. In the latter case the not-good may be called the
positively bad. (In respect of pleasure and pain there is a mean of this
kind, so that pleasure = a, pain = — a, and the state of absence of both is
indifference, - 0.) (24) Now if the moral law were not a spring of the elec-
tive will in us, then moral good (harmony of the will with the law) would = a,
not-good = 0, and the latter would be merely the result of the absence of a
moral spring = a + 0. But the law is in us as a spring = a ; therefore the
want of harmony of the elective will with it (= 0) is only possible as a
result of a really opposite determination of elective will, that is a resistance
to it, - – a, that is to say, only by a bad elective will; there is, therefore,
no mean between a bad and a good disposition (inner principle of maxims)
by which the morality of the action must be determined. A morally in-
different action (adiaphoron morale) would be an action resulting merely
from natural laws, and standing therefore in no relation to the moral law,
which is a law of freedom ; inasmuch as it is not a deed, and in respect of
it neither command nor prohibition, nor even legal permission, has any
place or is necessary.
330 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE [24-25]
(24) The answer given to the above question by the rigourists'
is founded on the important consideration : (25) That freedom
of elective will has the peculiar characteristic that it cannot be
determined to action by any spring except only so far as the man
has taken it up into his maa'im (has made it the universal rule of
his conduct); only in his way can a spring, whatever it may
be, co-exist with the absolute spontaneity of the elective will
(freedom). Only the moral law is of itself in the judgment of
reason a spring, and whoever makes it his maxim is morally
good. Now if the law does not determine a man’s elective
will in respect of an action which has reference to it, an oppo-
site spring must have influence on his elective will; and since
by hypothesis this can only occur by the man taking it (and
consequently deviation from the moral law) into his maxim
(in which case he is a bad man), it follows that his disposition
* Professor Schiller, in his masterly treatise (Thalia, 1793, pt. 3) on
pleasantness [grace] and dignity in morals, finds fault with this way of
presenting obligation, as if it implied a Carthusian spirit; but as we are
agreed in the most important principles, I cannot admit that there is any
disagreement in this, if we could only come to a mutual understanding. I
admit that I cannot associate any pleasantness with the conception of duty,
just because of its dignity. For it involves unconditional obligation, which
is directly contrary to pleasantness. The majesty of the law (like that on
Sinai) inspires (not dread, which repels, nor yet a charm which invites to
familiarity, but) awe, which awakes respect of the subject for his lawgiver,
and in the present case the latter being within ourselves, a feeling of the
sublimity of our own destiny, which attracts us more than any beauty.
But virtue, i.e. the firmly-rooted disposition to fulfil our duty punctually,
is in its results beneficent also, more than anything in the world that can
be done by nature or art ; and the noble picture of humanity exhibited in
this form admits very well the accompaniments of the Graces, but as long
as duty alone is in question, they keep at a respectful distance. If how-
ever, we regard the pleasant results which virtue would spread in the
world if it found access everywhere, then morally-directed reason draws
the sensibility into play (by means of the imagination). (25) It is only after
vanquishing monsters that Hercules becomes Musagetes, before which
labour those good sisters draw back. These companions of Venus Urania
are lewd followers of Venus Dione as soon as they interfere in the business
of the determination of duty, and want to supply the springs thereof. If it
is now asked, Of what sort is the emotional characteristic, the temperament
{26] IN HIJMAN NATURE. 331
in respect of the moral law is never indifferent (is always one
of the two, good or bad.)
(26) Nor can he be partly good and partly bad at the same
time. For if he is in part good, he has taken the moral law
into his maxim ; if then he were at the same time in another
part bad, then, since the moral law of obedience to duty is one
and universal, the maxim referring to it would be universal,
and at the same time only particular, which is a contradiction."
When it is said that a man has the one or the other disposition
as an innate natural quality, it is not meant that it is not acquired
by him, that is, that he is not the author of it, but only that it
is not acquired in time (that from youth up he has been always the
One or the other). The disposition, that is, the primary subjec-
tive source of the adoption of maxims can be but one, and
applies generally to the whole use of freedom. But it must
as it were of virtue: is it spirited and cheerful, or anxiously depressed and
dejected P an answer is hardly necessary. The latter slavish spirit can
never exist without a secret hatred of the law, and cheerfulness of heart in
the performance of one's duty (not complacency in the recognition of it) is
a mark of the genuineness of the virtuous disposition, even in devoutness,
which does not consist in the self-tormenting of the penitent sinner (which
is very ambiguous, and commonly is only an inward reproach for having
offended against the rules of prudence), but in the firm purpose to do better
in the future, which, animated by good progress, must produce a cheerful
spirit, without which one is never certain that he has taken a liking to
good, that is to say, adopted it into his maxim.
* The ancient moral philosophers, who nearly exhausted all that can
be said about virtue, have not omitted to consider the two questions above
mentioned. The first they expressed thus: Whether virtue must be learned
(so that man is by nature indifferent to it and vice) P The second was :
Whether there is more than one virtue (in other words, whether it is pos-
sible that a man should be partly virtuous and partly vicious)? To both
they replied with rigorous decision in the negative, and justly; for they
contemplated virtue in itself as an idea of the reason (as man ought to be).
But if we are to form a moral judgment of this moral being, man in appear-
ance, that is, as we learn to know him by experience, then we may answer
both questions in the affirmative ; for then he is estimated not by the
balance of pure reason (before a Divine tribunal), but by an empirical
standard (before a human judge). We shall treat further of this in the
sequel. -
332 OF THE BAD PRINCIPLE [21]
have been itself adopted by free elective will, for otherwise it
could not be imputed. Now the subjective ground or cause of
its adoption cannot be further known (although we cannot help
asking for it); since otherwise another maxim would have to be
adduced, into which this disposition has been adopted, and this
again must have its reason. (27) Since, then, we cannot deduce
this disposition, or rather its ultimate source, from any first act
of the elective will in time, we call it a characteristic of the
elective will, attaching to it by nature (although in fact it is
founded in freedom). Now that when we say of a man that
he is by nature good or bad, we are justified in applying this
not to the individual (in which case one might be assumed to
be by nature good, another bad), but to the whole race, this
can only be proved when it has been shown in the anthropolo-
gical inquiry that the reasons which justify us in ascribing one
of the two characters to a man as innate are such that there is
no reason to except any man from them, and that therefore it
holds of the race.
I.
OF THE ORIGINAL INCAPACITY FOR GOOD IN HIUMAN NATURE.
We may conveniently regard this capacity [Anlage] under
three heads divided in reference to their end, as elements in the
purpose for which man exists:—
1. The capacities belonging to the animal nature of man as
a living being.
2. To his humanity as a living and at the same time rational
being.
3. To his personality as a rational and at the same time
responsible being [capable of imputation]."
* This must not be considered as contained in the conception of the pre-
ceding, but must necessarily be regarded as a special capacity. For it does
not follow that because a being has reason, this includes a faculty of deter-
mining the elective will unconditionally by the mere conception of the
[28–29] IN HUMAN NATURE. 333
(28) 1. The capacities belonging to the Animal Nature of
man may be brought under the general title of physical and
merely mechanical self-love, that is, such as does not require
reason. It is threefold:—first, for the maintenance of himself;
secondly, for the propagation of his kind, and the maintenance
of his offspring; thirdly, for communion with other men, that
is, the impulse to society. All sorts of vices may be grafted on it,
but they do not proceed from that capacity itself as a root. They
may be called vices of coarseness of nature, and in their extreme
deviation from the end of nature become brutal vices : intempe-
rance, sensuality, and wild lawlessness (in relation to other men).
2. The capacities belonging to his Humanity may be brought
under the general title of comparative, though physical, self-love
(which requires reason), namely, estimating one’s self as happy or
unhappy only in comparison with others. From this is derived
the inclination to obtain a worth in the opinion of others, and pri-
marily only that of equality: to allow no one a superiority over
one’s self, joined with a constant apprehension (29) that others
might strive to attain it, and from this there ultimately arises
an unjust desire to gain superiority for ourselves over others.
On this, namely, jealousy and rivalry, the greatest vices may be
grafted, secret and open hostilities against all whom we look
upon as not belonging to us. These, however, do not properly
spring of themselves from nature as their root, but apprehend-
ing that others endeavour to gain a hated Superiority over us,
qualification of its maxims to be universal laws, so as to be of itself prac-
tical: at least so far as we can see. (28) The most rational being in the
world might still have need of certain springs coming to him from objects
of inclination, to determine his elective will; and might apply to these the
most rational calculation, both as regards the greatest sum of the springs
and also as to the means of attaining the object determined thereby ; with-
out ever suspecting the possibility of anything like the moral law, issuing
its commands absolutely, and which announces itself as a spring, and that
the highest. Were this law not given in us, we should not be able to find
it out as such by reason or to talk the elective will into it; and yet this law
is the only one that makes us conscious of the independence of our elective
will on determination by any other springs (our freedom), and at the same
time of the imputability of our actions.
334 OF THE BAD PRINCIPLE |30}
these are inclinations to secure this superiority for ourselves as
a defensive measure, whereas Nature would use the idea of such
competition (which in itself does not exclude mutual love) only
as a motive to culture. The vices that are grafted on this
inclination may therefore be called vices of culture, and in their
highest degree of malignancy (in which they are merely the
idea of a maximum of badness surpassing humanity), ew. gr.
in envy, in ingratitude, malice, &c., are called devilish vices.
3. The capacity belonging to Personality is the capability
of respect for the moral law as a spring of the elective will
adequate in itself. The capability of mere respect for the moral
law in us would be moral feeling, which does not of itself con-
stitute an end of the natural capacity, but only so far as it is
a spring of the elective will. Now as this is only possible by
free will adopting it into its maxim, hence the character of such
an elective will is the good character, which, like every charac-
ter of free elective will, is something that can only be acquired,
the possibility of which, however, requires the presence of a
capacity in our nature on which absolutely nothing bad can be
grafted. The idea of the moral law alone, with the respect in-
separable from it, cannot properly be called a capacity belonging
to personality; (30) it is personality itself (the idea of humanity
considered altogether intellectually). But that we adopt this
respect into our maxims as a spring, this seems to have a sub-
jective ground additional to personality, and so this ground
seems therefore to deserve the name of a capacity belonging
to personality.
If we consider these three capacities according to the con-
ditions of their possibility, we find that the first requires no
reason; the second is based on reason which, though practical,
is at the service of other motives; the third has as its root
reason, which is practical of itself, that is, unconditionally legis-
lative: all these capacities in man are not only (negatively)
good (not resisting the moral law), but are also capacities for
good (promoting obedience to it). They are original, for they
appertain to the possibility of human nature. Man can use
the two former contrary to their end, but cannot destroy them.
[31] IN HUMAN NATURE. 335
By the capacities of a being, we understand both its constituent
elements and also the forms of their combination which make
it such and such a being. They are original if they are essen-
tially necessary to the possibility of such a being; contingent if
the being would be in itself possible without them. It is further
to be observed that we are speaking here only of those capaci-
ties which have immediate reference to the faculty of desire and
to the use of the elective will.
II.
OF THE PROPENSITY TO EVIL IN HUMAN NATURE.
By propensity (propensio) I understand the subjective source
of possibility of an inclination (habitual desire, concupiscentia) so
far as this latter is, as regards man generally, contingent." (31)
It is distinguished from a capacity by this, that although it may
be innate, it need not be conceived as such, but may be regarded
as acquired (when it is good), or (when it is bad) as drawn by
the person on himself. Here, however, we are speaking only of
the propensity to what is properly, i.e. morally bad, which, as it
is possible only as a determination of free elective will, and this
can be adjudged to be good or bad only by its maxims, must
consist in the subjective ground of the possibility of a deviation
* Propensity (“Hang”) is properly only the predisposition to the desire of
an enjoyment, which when the subject has had experience of it produces an
&nclination to it. Thus all uncivilized men have a propensity to intoxicating
things; for, although many of them are not acquainted with intoxication,
so that they cannot have any desire for things that produce it, one need only
let them once try such things to produce an almost inextinguishable desire
for them. Between propensity and inclination, which presupposes acquaint-
ance with the object, is instinct, which is a felt want to do or enjoy some-
thing of which one has as yet no conception (such as the mechanical instinct
in animals or the sexual impulse). There is a still further step in the faculty
of desire beyond inclination, namely, passions (not affections, for these belong
to the feeling of pleasure and displeasure), which are inclinations that ex-
clude self-control.
f
336 OF THE BAD PRINCIPLE [32]
of the maxims from the moral law, and if this propensity may
be assumed as belonging to man universally (and therefore to
the characteristics of his race) will be called a natural propensity
of man to evil. We may add further that the capability or
incapability of the elective will to adopt the moral law into its
maxims or not, arising from natural propensity, is called a good
or bad heart.
We may conceive three distinct degrees of this:—first, it is
the weakness of the human heart in following adopted maxims
generally, (32) or the frailty of human nature; secondly, the pro-
pensity to mingle non-moral motives with the moral (even when
it is done with a good purpose and under maxims of good), that
is impurity; thirdly, the propensity to adopt bad maxims, that
is the depravity of human nature or of the human heart.
First, the frailty (fragilitas) of human nature is expressed
even in the complaint of an apostle: “To will is present with
me, but how to perform I find not; ” that is, I adopt the
good (the law) into the maxim of my elective will; but this,
which objectively in its ideal conception (in thesi) is an irresis-
tible spring, is subjectively (in hypothesi), when the maxim is to
be carried out, weaker than inclination.
Secondly, the impurity (impuritas, improbitas) of the human
heart consists in this, that although the maxim is good in its
object (the intended obedience to the law), and perhaps also
powerful enough for practice, yet it is not purely moral, that is,
does not, as ought to be the case, involve the law alone as its
sufficient spring, but frequently (perhaps always) has need of
other springs beside it, to determine the elective will to what
duty demands. In other words, that dutiful actions are not
done purely from duty.
Thirdly, the depravity (vitioSitas, pravitas), or if it is preferred,
the corruption (corruptio), of the human heart, is the propensity
of the elective will to maxims which prefer other (not moral)
springs to that which arises from the moral law. It may also
be called the perversity (perversitas) of the human heart, because
it reverses the moral order in respect of the springs of a free
elective will; and although legally good actions maybe consistent
[33–34] IN HIJMAN NATURE 337
with this, the moral disposition is thereby corrupted in its root,
and the man is therefore designated bad.
(33) It will be remarked that the propensity to evil in man
is here ascribed even to the best (best in action), which must be
the case if it is to be proved that the propensity to evil amongst
men is universal, or what here signifies the same thing, that it
is interwoven with human nature.
However, a man of good morals (bene moratus) and a morally
good man (moraliter bonus) do not differ (or at least ought not
to differ) as regards the agreement of their actions with the law;
only that in the one these actions have not always the law for
their sole and Supreme spring; in the other it is invariably so.
We may say of the former that he obeys the law in the letter
(that is, as far as the act is concerned which the law commands),
but of the latter, that he observes it in the spirit (the spirit of
the moral law consists in this, that it is alone an adequate
spring). Whatever is not done from this faith is sin (in the dis-
position of mind). For if other springs beside the law itself
are necessary to determine the elective will to actions conforming
to the law (ear. gr. desire of esteem, self-love in general, or even
good-natured instinct, such as compassion), then it is a mere
accident that they agree with the law, for they might just as
well urge to its transgression. The maxim, then, the goodness
of which is the measure of all moral worth in the person, is in
this case opposed to the law, and while the man’s acts are all
good, he is nevertheless bad.
The following explanation is necessary in order to define the
conception of this propensity. Every propensity is either phy-
sical, that is, it appertains to man’s will as a physical being;
or it is moral, that is, appertaining to his elective will as a
moral being. In the first sense, there is no propensity to
moral evil, for this must spring from freedom; (34) and a phy-
sical propensity (founded on sensible impulses) to any particular
use of freedom, whether for good or evil, is a contradiction. A
propensity to evil, then, can only attach to the elective will as a
moral faculty. Now, nothing is morally bad (that is, capable of
being imputed) but what is our own act. On the other hand, by
Z
338 OF THE BAD PRINCIPLE [35]
the notion of a propensity we understand a subjective ground
of determination of the elective will antecedent to any act, and
which is consequently not itself an act. Hence there would be
a contradiction in the notion of a mere propensity to evil, unless
indeed this word “act” could be taken in two distinct senses,
both reconcilable with the notion of freedom. Now the term
“act” in general applies to that use of freedom by which the
supreme maxim is adopted into one's elective will (conformably
or contrary to the law), as well as to that in which actions
themselves (as to their matter, that is, the objects of the elective
will) are performed in accordance with that maxim. The pro-
pensity to evil is an act in the former sense (peccatum origi-
marium), and is at the same time the formal source of every act
in the second sense, which in its matter violates the law and is
called vice (peccatum derivativum); and the first fault remains,
even though the second may be often avoided (from motives
other than the law itself). The former is an intelligible act
only cognizable by reason, apart from any condition of time;
the latter sensible, empirical, given in time (factum phaenome-
non). The former is especially called, in comparison with the
second, a mere propensity; and innate, because it cannot be
extirpated (since this would require that the supreme maxim
should be good, whereas by virtue of that propensity itself it is
supposed to be bad); (35) and especially because, although the cor-
ruption of our supreme maxim is our own act, we cannot assign
any further cause for it, any more than for any fundamental
attribute of our nature. What has just been said will show the
reason why we have, at the beginning of this section, sought the
three sources of moral evil simply in that which by laws of
freedom affects the ultimate ground of our adopting or obeying
this or that maxim, not in what affects the sensibility (as
receptivity).
[36] IN HIUMAN NATURE. 339
III.
MAN IS BY NATURE BAD.
“ Vitiis memo sine nascitur.”—PIORAT.
According to what has been said above, the proposition:
Man is bad can only mean: He is conscious of the moral law,
and yet has adopted into his maxim (occasional) deviation there-
from. He is by nature bad is equivalent to saying: This holds
of him considered as a species; not as if such a quality could be
inferred from the specific conception of man (that of man in
general) (for then it would be necessary); but by what is known
of him through experience he cannot be otherwise judged, or it
may be presupposed as subjectively necessary in every man,
even the best.
Now this propensity itself must be considered as morally
bad, and consequently not as a natural property, but as some-
thing that can be imputed to the man, and consequently must
consist in maxims of the elective will which are opposed to the
law; but on account of freedom these must be looked upon as
in themselves contingent, which is inconsistent with the univer-
sality of this badness, unless the ultimate subjective ground of
all maxims is, by whatever means, interwoven with humanity,
and, as it were, rooted in it; hence we call this a natural pro-
pensity to evil; and as the man must, nevertheless, always incur
the blame of it, (36) it may be called even a radical badness in
human nature, innate (but not the less drawn upon us by
ourselves).
Now that there must be such a corrupt propensity rooted in
men need not be formally proved in the face of the multitude
of crying examples which experience sets before one’s eyes in
the acts of man. If examples are desired from that state in
which many philosophers hoped to find pre-eminently the na-
tural goodness of human nature, namely, the so-called State of
nature, we need only look at the instances of unprovoked cruelty
in the scenes of murder in Tofoa, New Zealand, the Navigator
Z 2
340 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE [37]
Islands, and the never-ceasing instances in the wide wastes of
North-West America (mentioned by Captain Hearne)," where no
one has even the least advantage from it;” and comparing these
with that hypothesis, we have vices of savage life more than
enough to make us abandon that opinion. On the other hand,
if one is disposed to think that human nature can be better
known in a civilized condition (in which its characteristic pro-
perties can be more perfectly developed), then one must listen to
a long melancholy litany of complaints of humanity; (37) of secret
falsehood, even in the most intimate friendship, so that it is
reckoned a general maxim of prudence that even the best friends
should restrain their confidence in their mutual intercourse; of
a propensity to hate the man to whom one is under an obliga-
tion, for which a benefactor must always be prepared; of a
hearty good-will, which nevertheless admits the remark that
“in the misfortunes of our best friends there is something which
is not altogether displeasing to us”; * and of many other vices
concealed under the appearance of virtue, not to mention the
vices of those who do not conceal them, because we are satisfied
to call a man good who is a bad man of the average class. This
will give one enough of the vices of culture and civilization (the
most mortifying of all) to make him turn away his eye from the
' [Hearne's Journey from Prince of Wales Fort in Hudson's Bay to the
Northern Ocean in 1769–72. London: 1795.]
2 As the perpetual war between the Athapescaw and the Dog Rib Indians,
which has no other object than slaughter. Bravery in war is the highest
virtue of savages, in their opinion. Even in a state of civilization, it is an
object of admiration and a ground of the peculiar respect demanded by that
profession in which this is the only merit, and this not altogether without
good reason. For that a man can have something that he values more than
life, and which he can make his object (namely, honour, renouncing all
self-interest), proves a certain sublimity in his nature. But we see by the
complacency with which conquerors extol their achievements (massacre, un-
sparing butchery, &c.), that it is only their own superiority and the destruc-
tion they can effect without any other object in which they properly take
satisfaction.
* [Compare Stewart, Active and Moral Powers, bk. I. ch. iii, sec. 3, who
gives an optimist explanation of this saying.]
[38] IN HIUMAN NATURE. 341
conduct of men, lest he should fall into another vice, namely,
misanthropy. If he is not yet satisfied, however, he need only
take into consideration a condition strangely compounded of
both, namely, the external condition of nations—for the rela-
tion of civilized nations to one another is that of a rude state of
nature (a state of perpetual preparation for war), and they are also
firmly resolved never to abandon it—and he will become aware
of principles adopted by the great societies called States, (38)
which directly contradict the public profession, and yet are
never to be laid aside, principles which no philsopher has yet
been able to bring into agreement with morals, nor (sad to say)
can they propose any better which would be reconcilable with
human nature; so that the philosophical millennium, which hopes
for a state of perpetual peace founded on a union of nations as a
republic of the world, is generally ridiculed as visionary, just as
much as the theological, which looks for the complete moral
improvement of the whole human race. -
Now the source of this badness (1) cannot, as is usually
done, be placed in the sensibility of man and the natural incli-
* If we look at the history of these merely as a phenomenon of the inner
nature of man, which is in great part concealed from us, we may become
aware of a certain mechanical process of nature directed to ends which are
not those of the nations but of Nature. As long as any State has another
near it which it can hope to subdue, it endeavours to aggrandize itself by
the conquest, striving thus to attain universal monarchy—a constitution in
which all freedom would be extinguished, and with it virtue, taste, and
sciences (which are its consequences). (39) But this monster (in which all
laws gradually lose their force), after it has swallowed up its neighbours,
finally dissolves of itself, and by rebellion and discord is divided into several
smaller States, which, instead of endeavouring to form a States-union (a
republic of free united nations), begin the same game over again, each for
itself, so that war (that scourge of the human race) may not be allowed to
cease. War, indeed, is not so incurably bad as the deadness of a universal
monarchy (or even a union of nations to ensure that despotism shall not be
discontinued in any State), yet, as an ancient observed, it makes more bad
men than it takes away. [Compare on this subject Kant's Essay, Zum
ewigen Frieden ; Werke, vii. Thl., 1 Abth., p. 229; also Das mag in der
Theorie, &c., No. 3, ibid. p. 220.]
342 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE [39]
nations springing therefrom. For not only have these no direct
reference to badness (on the contrary, they afford the occasion
for the moral character to show its power, occasion for virtue),
but further we are not responsible for their existence (we can-
not be, for being implanted in us they have not us for their
authors), whereas we are accountable for the propensity to evil;
for as this concerns the morality of the subject, and is conse-
quently found in him as a freely acting being, it must be im-
puted to him as his own fault, notwithstanding its being so
deeply rooted in the elective will that it must be said to be
found in man by nature. The source of this evil (2) cannot be
placed in a corruption of Reason which gives the moral law (39),
as if Reason could abolish the authority of the law in itself and
disown its obligation; for this is absolutely impossible. To
conceive one's self as a freely acting being, and yet released from
the law which is appropriate to such a being (the moral law),
would be the same as to conceive a cause operating without any
law (for determination by natural laws is excluded by freedom),
and this would be a contradiction. For the purpose then of
assigning a source of the moral evil in man, sensibility contains
too little, for in taking away the motives which arise from
freedom it makes him a mere animal being ; on the other hand,
a Reason releasing from the moral law, a malignant reason, as it
were (a simply bad Rational Will, [“Wille”] involves too much,
for by this antagonism to the law would itself be made a spring
of action (for the elective will cannot be determined without
some spring), so that the subject would be made a devilish
being. Neither of these views, however, is applicable to
IYlä,Il.
Now although the existence of this propensity to evil in
human nature can be shown by experience, from the actual
antagonism in time between human will and the law, yet this
proof does not teach us its proper nature and the source of this
antagonism. This propensity concerns a relation of the free
elective will (an elective will, therefore, the conception of which
is not empirical) to the moral law as a spring (the conception of
which is likewise purely intellectual); its nature then must be
[40] IN HIJMAN NATURE. 343
cognized d priori from the concept of the Bad, so far as the
laws of freedom (obligation and accountability) bear upon it.
The following is the development of the concept :—
Man (even the worst) does not in any maxim, as it were,
rebelliously abandon the moral law (and renounce obedience to
it). (40) On the contrary, this forces itself upon him irresistibly
by virtue of his moral nature, and if no other spring opposed it
he would also adopt it into his ultimate maxim as the adequate
determining principle of his elective will, that is, he would be
morally good. But by reason of his physical nature, which is
likewise blameless, he also depends on sensible springs of action,
and adopts them also into his maxim (by the subjective prin-
ciple of self-love). If, however, he adopted them into his maxim
as adequate of themselves alone to determine his will without re-
garding the moral law (which he has within), then he would be
morally bad. Now as he naturally adopts both into his maxim,
and as he would find each, if it were alone, sufficient to deter-
mine his will, it follows that if the distinction of the maxims
depended merely on the distinction of the springs (the matter of
the maxims), namely, according as they were furnished by the
law or by an impulse of sense, he would be morally good and
bad at once, which (as we saw in the Introduction) is a contra-
diction. Hence the distinction whether the man is good or bad
must lie, not in the distinction of the springs that he adopts into
his maxim, but in the subordination, i. e. which of the two he makes
the eondition of the other (that is, not in the matter of the maxim
but in its form). Consequently a man (even the best) is bad
only by this, that he reverses the moral order of the springs in
adopting them into his maxims; he adopts, indeed, the moral
law along with that of self-love; but perceiving that they cannot
subsist together on equal terms, but that one must be subordi-
nate to the other as its supreme condition, he makes the spring
of self-love and its inclinations the condition of obedience to
the moral law; whereas, on the contrary, the latter ought to be
adopted into the general maxims of the elective will as the sole
spring, being the supreme condition of the satisfaction of the
former.
344 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE [41–42]
(41) The springs being thus reversed by his maxim, contrary
to the moral order, his actions may, nevertheless, conform to the
law just as though they had sprung from genuine principles:
provided reason employs the unity of maxims in general, which
is proper to the moral law, merely for the purpose of intro-
ducing into the springs of inclination a unity that does not
belong to them, under the name of happiness (ew. gr. that
truthfulness, if adopted as a principle, relieves us of the anxiety
to maintain consistency in our lies and to escape being en-
tangled in their serpent coils). In which case the empirical
character is good, but the intelligible character bad.
Now if there is in human nature a propensity to this, then
there is in man a natural propensity to evil; and since this pro-
pensity itself must ultimately be sought in a free elective will,
and therefore can be imputed, it is morally bad. This badness
is radical, because it corrupts the source of all maxims; and at
the same time being a natural propensity, it cannot be destroyed
by human powers, since this could only be done by good
maxims; and when by hypothesis the ultimate subjective source
of all maxims is corrupt, these cannot exist; nevertheless, it
must be possible to overcome it, since it is found in man as
a freely acting being.
The depravity of human nature, then, is not so much to be
called badness, if this word is taken in its strict sense, namely,
as a disposition (subjective principle of maxims) to adopt the
bad, as bad, into one's maxims as a spring (for that is devilish);
but rather perversity of heart, which, on account of the result,
is also called a bad heart. (42) This may co-exist with a Will
[“Wille ‘’I good in general, and arises from the frailty of
human nature, which is not strong enough to follow its adopted
principles, combined with its impurity in not distinguishing the
springs (even of well-intentioned actions) from one another by
moral rule. So that ultimately it looks at best only to the
conformity of its actions with the law, not to their derivation
from it, that is, to the law itself as the only spring. Now
although this does not always give rise to wrong actions and a
propensity thereto, that is, to vice, yet the habit of regarding
[43] IN HUMAN NATURE. 345
the absence of vice as a conformity of the mind to the law of
duty (as virtue) must itself be designated a radical perversity of
the human heart (since in this case the spring in the maxims is
not regarded at all, but only the obedience to the letter of the
law).
This is called innate guilt (reatus), because it can be per-
ceived as soon as ever the use of freedom manifests itself in
man, and nevertheless must have arisen from freedom, and
therefore may be imputed. It may in its two first degrees (of
frailty and impurity) be viewed as unintentional guilt (culpa),
but in the third as intentional (dolus), and it is characterized
by a certain malignancy of the human heart (dolus malus),
deceiving itself as to its own good or bad dispositions, and
provided only its actions have not the bad result which by
their maxims they might well have, then not disquieting
itself about its dispositions, but, on the contrary, holding
itself to be justified before the law. Hence comes the peace
of conscience of so many (in their own opinion conscien-
tious) men, when amidst actions in which the law was not
taken into counsel, (43) or at least was not the most important
consideration, they have merely had the good fortune to escape
bad consequences. Perhaps they even imagine they have
merit, not feeling themselves guilty of any of the transgres-
sions in which they see others involved; without inquiring
whether fortune is not to be thanked for this, and whether the
disposition which, if they would, they could discover within,
would not have led them to the practice of the like vices, had
they not been kept away from them by want of power, by
temperament, education, circumstances of time and place which
lead into temptation (all things that cannot be imputed to us).
This dishonesty in imposing on ourselves, which hinders the
establishment of genuine moral principle in us, extends itself
then outwardly also to falsehood and deception of others which,
if it is not to be called badness, at least deserves to be called
Worthlessness, and has its root in the radical badness of human
nature, which (inasmuch as it perverts the moral judgment in
respect of the estimation to be formed of a man, and renders
346 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE [43]
imputation quite uncertain both internally and externally) con-
stitutes the corrupt spot in our nature, which, as long as we do
not extirpate it, hinders the source of good from developing
itself as it otherwise would.
A member of the English Parliament uttered in the heat of
debate the declaration, “Every man has his price.” If this is
true (which every one may decide for himself)—if there is no
virtue for which a degree of temptation cannot be found which
is capable of overthrowing it—if the question whether the good
or the bad spirit shall gain us to its side only depends on which
bids highest and offers most prompt payment—then what
the Apostle says might well be true of men universally:
“There is no difference, they are altogether sinners; there
is none that doeth good (according to the spirit of the law),
no not one.””
"[The saying was Sir Robert Walpole's, but was not so general as in
the text. He said it (not in debate) of the members of the House of Com-
mons, adding that he knew the price of each].
* The proper proof of this condemnation pronounced by the morally
judging reason is not contained in this section, but in the preceding; this
contains only the confirmation of it by experience, which, however, could
never discover the root of the evil, in the supreme maxim of free elective
will in relation to the law, this being an intelligible act, which is antecedent
to all experience. From this, that is, from the unity of the supreme
maxim, the law to which it refers being one, it may also be seen why, in
forming a purely intellectual judgment of men, the principle of exclusion of
a mean between good and bad must be assumed; whereas in forming the
empirical judgment from sensible acts (actual conduct), the principle may
be assumed that there is a mean between these extremes: on one side a
negative mean of indifference previous to all cultivation, and on the other
side a positive mean of mixture, so as to be partly good and partly bad.
But the latter is only an estimation of the morality of man in appearance,
and is in the final judgment subject to the former.
[44-45] IN HIJMAN NATURE. 347
(44) IV.
ON THE ORIGIN OF THE EVIL IN HUMAN NATURE.
Origin (primary) is the derivation of an effect from its
primary cause, that is, one which is not in its turn an effect of
another cause of the same kind. It may be considered either as
a rational or a temporal origin. In the former signification, it is
only the eaſistence of the effect that is considered; in the latter,
its occurrence, so that it is referred as an event to its cause in
time. When the effect is referred to a cause which is connected
with it by laws of freedom, as is the case with moral evil, then
the determination of the elective will to the production of it is
not regarded as connected with its determining principle in
time, but merely in the conception of the reason, (45) and cannot
be deduced as from any antecedent state, which on the other hand
must be done when the bad action, considered as an event in the
world, is referred to its physical cause. It is a contradiction
then to seek for the time-origin of free actions as such (as we
do with physical effects); or of the moral character of man, so
far as it is regarded as contingent, because this is the principle
of the use of freedom, and this (as well as the determining
principle of free will generally) must be sought for simply in
conceptions of reason.
But whatever may be the origin of the moral evil in man,
the most unsuitable of all views that can be taken of its spread
and continuance through all the members of our race and in all
generations is, to represent it as coming to us by inheritance
from our first parents; for we can say of moral evil what the
poet says of good :
. . . Genus et proavos, et quae non fecimus psi,
Wix ea nostro puto. . . ."
* The three so-called higher Faculties would explain this inheritance
each in its own way, namely, as a hereditary malady, or hereditary guilt, or
hereditary sin. 1. The medical faculty would regard hereditary evil as
something like the tapeworm, respecting which some naturalists are actually
348 OF THE BAD PRINCIPLE [46-47.]
(46) It is to be observed, further, that when we inquire into the
origin of evil, we do not at first take into account the propensity
to it (as peccatum in potentia), but only consider the actual evil
of given actions, in its innner possibility, and in what must
concur to determine the will to the doing of them.
Every bad action, when we inquire into its rational origin,
must be viewed as if the man had fallen into it directly from
the state of innocence. For whatever may have been his
previous conduct, and of whatever kind the natural causes in-
fluencing him may be, whether moreover they are internal or
external, his action is still free, and not determined by any
causes, and therefore it both can and must be always judged as
an original exercise of his elective will. He ought to have left
it undone, in whatever circumstances he may have been ; for by
no cause in the world can he cease to be a freely acting being.
It is said indeed, and justly, that the man is accountable for the
consequences, of his previous free but wrong actions; but by this.
is only meant, that one need not have recourse to the subter-
fuge of deciding whether the later actions are free or not,
because there is sufficient ground for the accountability in the
admittedly free action which was their cause. But if a man
had been never so bad up to the very moment of an impend-
ing free action (even so that custom had become second nature),
yet not only has it been his duty to be better, but it is now still
his duty to improve himself; (47) he must then be also able to do
so, and if he does not, he is just as accountable at the moment
of acting as if, endowed with the natural capacity for good
(which is inseparable from freedom), he had stepped into evil
of opinion that, as it is not found in any element outside us nor (of the
same kind) in any other animal, it must have been present in our first
parents. 2. The legal faculty would regard it as the legitimate consequenee
of entering on an inheritance left to us by them, but burdened with a heavy
crime (for to be born is nothing else but to obtain the use of the goods of
earth, so far as they are indispensable to our subsistence). We must there-
fore pay the debt (expiate), and shall in the end be dispossessed (by death).
Right, legally 3. The theological faculty would view this evil as a personal
participation of our first parents in the revolt of a reprobate rebel, either
[48] IN HIUMAN NATURE. 349
from the state of innocence. We must not inquire then what is
the origin in time of this act, but what is its origin in reason,
in order to define thereby the propensity, that is to say, the
general subjective principle by which a transgression is adopted
into our maxim, if there is such a propensity, and if possible to
explain it.
With this agrees very well the mode of representation
which the Scriptures employ in depicting the origin of evil as a
beginning of it in the human race, inasmuch as they exhibit it
in a history in which that which must be conceived as first in
the nature of the thing (without regard to the condition of
time) appears as first in time. According to the Scriptures,
evil does not begin from a fundamental propensity to it—
otherwise its beginning would not spring from freedom—but
from sin (by which is understood the transgression of the moral
law as a divine command); while the state of man before all
propensity to evil is called the state of innocence. The moral
law preceded as a prohibition, as must be the case with man as a
being not pure, but tempted by inclinations (Gen. ii. 16, 17).
Instead now of following this law directly as an adequate
spring (one which alone is unconditionally good, and in respect
of which no scruple can occur), the man looked about for other
springs (iii. 6), which could only be conditionally good (namely,
So far as the law is not prejudiced thereby), and made it his
maxim—if we conceive the action as consciously arising from
freedom—to obey the law of duty not from duty, but from regard
to other considerations. (48) Hence he began with questioning
the strictness of the law, which excludes the influence of every
other spring ; then he reasoned down" obedience to it to the
that we (though now unconscious of it), did then co-operate in it ourselves,
(46) or that now being born under his dominion (as prince of this world),
We prefer its goods to the command of the heavenly Ruler, and have not
loyalty enough to tear ourselves from them, for which we must hereafter
share his lot with him.
* As long as the moral law is not allowed the predominance in one’s
maxims above all other determining principles of the elective will, as the
spring sufficient of itself, all profession of respect for it is feigned, and the
propensity to this is inward falsehood, that is, a propensity to deceive one's
350 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE [49]
mere conditional conformity to means (subject to the principle
of self-love), whence, finally, the predominance of sensible
motives above the spring of the law was adopted into the
maxim of action, and so sin was committed (iii. 6). Mutato.
nomine, de te fabula narratur. That we all do just the same,
consequently “ have all sinned in Adam,'” and still sin, is
clear from what has preceded; only that in us an innate pro-
pensity to sin is presupposed in time, but in the first man, on
the contrary, innocence, so that in him the transgression is
called a fall; whereas in us it is conceived as following from
the innate depravity of our nature. What is meant, however,
by this propensity is no more than this, that if we wish to
apply ourselves to the explanation of evil as to its beginning in
time, we must in the case of every intentional transgression
pursue its causes in a previous period of our life, going back-
wards till we reach a time when the use of reason was not yet
developed: in other words, we must trace the source of evil
to a propensity towards it (as a foundation in nature) which,
on this account, is called innate. In the case of the first
man, who is represented as already possessing the full power
of using his reason, this is not necessary, nor indeed pos-
sible; (49) since otherwise that natural foundation (the evil pro-
pensity) must have been created in him ; therefore his sin is
represented as produced directly from a state of innocence.
But we must not seek for an origin in time of a moral character
for which we are to be accountable, however inevitable this is
when we try to eaplain its contingent existence (hence Scrip-
ture may have so represented it to us in accommodation to this
our weakness).
pº
self to the prejudice of the moral law in interpreting it (iii. 5); on which
account the Bible (Christian part) calls the author of evil (residing in
ourselves) the liar from the beginning, and thus characterizes man in respect
of what appears to be the main principle of evil in him.
I [Rom. v. 12; Vulgate. Luther's version is correct. Jerome also gives
the correct interpretation, although he retains the “in quo’’ of the old
version. Probably this was meant by the original translator as a literal
rendering of the Greek ép’ & ‘‘in that.”]
[50] IN HIJMAN NATURE. 351
The rational origin, however, of this perversion of our
elective will in respect of the way in which it adopts subordi-
nate springs into its maxims as Supreme, i.e. the origin of this
propensity to evil, remains inscrutable to us; for it must itself
be imputed to us, and consequently that ultimate ground of all
maxims would again require the assumption of a bad maxim."
What is bad could only have sprung from what is morally bad
(not the mere limits of our nature); and yet the original con-
stitution is adapted to good (nor could it be corrupted by any
other than man himself, if he is to be accountable for this
corruption); there is not then any source conceivable to us
from which moral evil could have first come into us. Scrip-
ture,” in its historical narrative, expresses this inconceivability,
at the same time that it defines the depravity of our race more
precisely (50) by representing evil as pre-existing at the begin-
ning of the world, not however in man, but in a spirit originally
destined for a lofty condition. The first beginning of all evil
in general is thus represented as inconceivable to us (for whence
came the evil in that spirit P), and man as having fallen into evil
only by seduction, and therefore as not fundamentally corrupt
(i. e. even in his primary capacity for good), but as still capable
of an improvement ; in contrast to a seducing spirit, that is, a
being in whom the temptation of the flesh cannot be reckoned
1 [“It is a very common supposition of moral philosophy that it is very
easy to explain the existence of moral evil in man, namely, that it arises
from the strength of the sensible springs of action on the one hand, and the
feebleness of the rational spring (respect for the law) on the other, that is,
from weakness. But in that case it should be still easier to explain the
moral good in man (in his moral capacity); for one cannot be conceived to
be comprehensible without the other. But the faculty of reason to become
master over all opposing springs of action by the mere idea of the law is
absolutely inexplicable ; it is then equally incomprehensible how the sen-
sible springs can become masters of a reason which commands with such
authority. For if all the world acted according to the precept of the law,
it would be said that everything was going on in the natural order, and it
would not occur to anyone to inquire the cause.”—Religion, &c., pp. 67,
68, note.]
*These remarks must not be regarded as intended to be an interpretation
352 - OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE. [51]
as alleviating his guilt; so that the former, who, notwith-
standing his corrupt heart, continues to have a good Rational
Will [“Wille”], has still left the hope of a return to the good
from which he has gone astray,
GENERAL REMARK."
ON THE RESTORATION OF THE ORIGINAL CAPACITY FOR GOOD
TO ITS FULL POWER.
What man is or ought to be in a moral sense he must make
or must have made himself. Both must be the effect of his free
elective will, otherwise it could not be imputed to him, and,
consequently, he would be morally neither good nor bad.
When it is said he is created good, that can only mean that he
is created for good, and the original constitution in man is good;
(51) but this does not yet make the man himself good, but ac-
cording as he does or does not adopt into his maxim the springs
which this constitution contains (which must be left altogether
to his own free choice), he makes himself become good or bad.
Supposing that a supernatural co-operation is also necessary to
make a man good or better, whether this consists only in the
diminution of the obstacles or in a positive assistance, the man
of Scripture—a thing that lies outside the province of mere reason. We
explain the manner in which a moral use may be made of a historical
statement without deciding whether this was the meaning of the writer, or
whether we only introduce it: provided only that it is true in itself, with-
out needing any historical proof, and that it is at the same time the only
way in which we can derive something for our own improvement from
a passage of Scripture which would otherwise be only an unprofitable
addition to our historical knowledge. We must not without necessity con-
tend about the historical authority of a matter which, whether it be under-
stood in this way or in that, does not help us to become better men (50),
when what does help can and must be known without historical proof.
Historical knowledge, which has no such inner reference, that can hold
good for every man, belongs to the adiaphora, with respect to which every-
one may judge as he finds most edifying for himself.
* [In the first edition this appears simply as No. W.]
[52–53] IN HUMAN NATURE. 353
must previously make himself worthy to receive it and to accept
this aid (which is no small thing), that is, to adopt into his
maxim the positive increase of power, in which way alone it is
possible that the good should be imputed to him, and that he
should be recognised as a good man.
Now how it is possible that a man naturally bad should
make himself a good man transcends all our conceptions; for
how can a bad tree bring forth good fruit P But since it is
already admitted that a tree originally good (as to its capa-
cities) has brought forth bad fruit," and the fall from good to
bad (when it is considered that it arises from freedom) is not
more conceivable than a rising again from bad to good, the
possibility of the latter cannot be disputed. For notwith-
standing that fall, the command “we ought to become better
men,” resounds with undiminished force in our soul; conse-
quently, we must be able to do so, even though what we our-
selves can do should be insufficient of itself, and though we
should thereby only make ourselves susceptible of an inscru-
table higher assistance. It must, however, be presupposed that
a germ of good has remained in its complete purity, which
could not be destroyed or corrupted—(52) a germ that certainly
cannot be self-love,” which, when taken as the principle of all
our maxims, is in fact the source of all evil.
(53) The restoration of the original capacity for good in us is
then not the acquisition of a lost spring towards good; for this,
* The tree that is good as to its capacities is not yet so in fact ; for if it
were so it certainly could not bring forth bad fruit; it is only when the
man has adopted into his maxim the spring which is placed in him for the
moral law that he is called a good man (the tree is then absolutely a good
tree).
* Words that admit of two totally different senses often retard con-
viction for a long time when the principles are perfectly clear. Love in
general, and self-love in particular, may be divided into that of good will
and that of complacency (benevolentia et complacentia), and both (as is
evident) must be rational. It is natural to adopt the former into one's
maxim (for who would not wish that it should always fare well with him-
self?). It is rational, inasmuch as in the first place, in respect of the end
only that is chosen which is consistent with the greatest and most lasting
2 A
354 OF THE BAD PRINCIPLE [54]
which consists in respect for the moral law, we could never lose,
and, were it possible to do so, we could never recover it. It is
then only the restoration of its purity, as the Supreme principle
of all our maxims, by which it is adopted into these not merely
in combination with other springs or as subordinate to these
(the inclinations) as conditions, but in its entire purity as a
spring sufficient of itself to determine the elective will. The
original good is holiness of marims in following one's duty, by
which the man who adopts this purity into his maxims, although
he is not himself as yet on that account holy (for there is still
a long interval between maxim and act), nevertheless is on the
way to approximate to holiness by an endless progress. Firm-
ness of purpose in following duty, when it has become a habit,
is called also virtue, as far as legality is concerned, which is its
empirical character (virtus phenomenon). It has then the steady
maxim of conformity of actions to the law, whatever may be the
source of the spring required for this. (54) Hence virtuo in this
sense is gradually acquired, and is described by some as a long
practice (in observing the law) by which a man has passed from
the propensity to vice, by gradual reform of his conduct and
welfare, and in the next as the most fitting means are chosen for each of
these elements of happiness. Reason here occupies the place of a minister
to natural inclination, and the maxim which is assumed on that account
has no reference whatever to morality. If, however, it is made the uncon-
ditional principle of choice, then it is the source of an immeasurably great
conflict with morality. Now a rational love of complacency in one’s selfmay
either be understood thus, that we have complacency in the above-mentioned
maxims directed to the satisfaction of natural inclinations (so far as that
end is attained by following them); and then it is the same thing as compla-
cency towards one’s self; one is pleased with one's self, as a merchant whose
trading speculations succeed, and who congratulates himself on his insight
in respect of the maxims he has adopted. But the maxim of self-love, of
wnconditional complacency in one's self (not depending on gain or loss as the
results of the action) would be the inward principle of a satisfaction which
is only possible to us on condition of the subordination of our maxims to
the moral law. No man to whom morality is not indifferent can have com-
placency in himself, or indeed can be free from a bitter dissatisfaction with
himself, who is conscious of maxims that do not agree with the moral
law within. We might call this rational self-love, which prevents him.
[54] IN HUMAN NATURE. 355
strengthening of his maxims, into an opposite propensity.
This does not require any change of heart, but only a change of
'morals. A man regards himself as virtuous when he feels him-
self confirmed in the maxims of observance of duty, although
this be not from the Supreme principle of all maxims; but the
intemperate man, for instance, returns to temperance for the
sake of health ; the liar to truth for the sake of reputation; the
unjust man to common fairness for the sake of peace or of gain,
&c., all on the much-lauded principle of happiness. But that a
man should become not merely a legally but a morally good (God-
pleasing) man, that is, virtuous in his intelligible character
(virtus noumenon), a man who, when he recognises a thing as
his duty, needs no other spring than this conception of duty
itself; this is not to be effected by gradual reform, as long as
the principle of his maxims remains impure, but requires a
"evolution in the mind (a transition to the maxim of holiness of
mind), and he can only become a new man by a kind of new
birth, as it were by a new creation (Gospel of John, iii. 5, com-
pared with Gen. i. 2) and a change of heart.
But if a man is corrupt in the very foundation of his
from mixing with the springs of his will any other causes of satisfaction
drawn from the consequences of his actions (under the name of happiness
to be procured thereby). Now as the latter indicates unconditional respect
for the law, why should a difficulty be put in the way of the clear under-
standing of the principle, by using the expression a rational self-love, which
is moral only on the condition just mentioned, whereby we are involved in
a circle (53) (for a man can love himself in a moral way only so far as he is
conscious that his maxim is to make respect for the law the supreme spring
of his will) P For us, as beings dependent on objects of the sensibility,
happiness is by our [physical] nature the first and unconditional object of
our desire. But (if we give the name of nature in general to all that
is innate in us, then) as beings endowed with reason and freedom, happi-
ness is by our nature far from being the first or unconditional object of
our maxims; this character belongs to worthiness of happiness, that is, the
coincidence of all our maxims with the moral law. Herein consists the
whole precept of morality, that this is the objective condition under which
alone the wish for the former can coincide with the legislation of reason,
and the moral character consists in the state of mind which admits only
such a conditional wish.
2 A 2
356 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE [55]
maxims, how is it possible that he should effect this revolution
by his own power and become a good man of himself? And
yet duty commands it, and duty commands nothing that is not
practicable for us. The only way this difficulty can be got over
is, that a revolution is necessary for the mental disposition, but
a gradual reform for the sensible temperament, which opposes
obstacles to the former; and being necessary, must therefore be
possible; that is, when a man reverses the ultimate principle of
his maxims by which he is a bad man by a single immutable
resolution (55) (and in So doing puts on a new man); then so far
he is in principle and disposition a subject susceptible of good;
but it is only in continued effort and growth that he is a good
man, that is, he may hope with such purity of the principle
that he has taken as the Supreme maxim of his elective will,
and by its stability, that he is on the good (though narrow)
road of a constant progress from bad to better. In the eyes of
one who penetrates the intelligible principle of the heart (of all
maxims of elective will), and to whom therefore this endless
progress is a unity, that is, in the eyes of God, this comes to the
same as being actually a good man (pleasing to Him), and in
so far this change may be considered as a revolution; but in
the judgment of men, who can estimate themselves and the
strength of their maxims only by the superiority which they
gain over sensibility in time, it is only to be viewed as an ever
continuing struggle for improvement; in other words, as a
gradual reform of the perverse disposition, the propensity to
evil.
Hence it follows that the moral culture of man must begin,
not with improvement in morals, but with a transformation of
the mind and the foundation of a character, although men
usually proceed otherwise, and contend against vices singly,
leaving the general root of them untouched. Now even a man
of the most limited intellect is capable of the impression of an
increased respect for an action conformable to duty, in propor-
tion as he withdraws from it in thought all other springs which
could have influenced the maxim of the action by means of
self-love; and even children are capable of finding out even the
[56] IN HIJMAN NATURE. 357
least trace of a mixture of spurious springs of action, in which
case the action instantly loses all moral worth in their eyes.
This capacity for good is admirably cultivated by adducing the
example of even good men (good as regards their conformity to
law), and allowing one's moral pupils to estimate the impurity
of many maxims from the actual springs of their actions; (56)
and it gradually passes over into the character, so that duty
simply of itself commences to acquire considerable weight in
their hearts. But to teach them to admire virtuous actions,
however great the sacrifice they may cost, is not the right way
to maintain the feeling of the pupil for moral good. For how-
ever virtuous anyone may be, all the good he can ever do is
only duty; and to do his duty is no more than to do what is in
the common moral order, and therefore does not deserve to be
admired. On the contrary, this admiration is a lowering of our
feeling for duty, as if obedience to it were something extra-
Ordinary and meritorious.
There is, however, one thing in our soul which, when we
take a right view of it, we cannot cease to regard with the
highest astonishment, and in regard to which admiration is
right or even elevating, and that is the original moral capacity
in us generally. What is that in us (we may ask ourselves) by
which we, who are constantly dependent on nature by so many
Wants, are yet raised so far above it in the idea of an original
capacity (in us) that we regard them all as nothing, and our-
selves as unworthy of existence, if we were to indulge in their
satisfaction in opposition to a law which our reason authorita-
tively prescribes; although it is this enjoyment alone that can
make life desirable, while reason neither promises anything nor
threatens. The importance of this question must be deeply felt
by every man of the most ordinary ability, who has been pre-
viously instructed as to the holiness that lies in the idea of duty,
but who has not yet ascended to the investigation of the notion
of freedom, which first arises from this law; (57) and even the
incomprehensibility of this capacity, a capacity which proclaims a
* That the conception of freedom of the elective will does not precede the
consciousness of the moral law in us, but is only inferred from the deter-
358 OF THE BAID PRINCIPLE [57–58]
Divine origin, mustrouse his spirit to enthusiasm, and strengthen
it for any sacrifices which respect for this duty may impose on
him. The frequent excitement of this feeling of the sublimity
of a man’s moral constitution is especially to be recommended as
a means of awaking moral sentiments, since it operates in direct
opposition to the innate propensity to pervert the springs in the
maxims of our elective will, (58) and tends to make unconditional
respect for the law the ultimate condition of the admission of all
maxims, and so restores the original moral subordination of the
springs of action, and the capacity for good in the human heart
in its primitive purity.
But is not this restoration by one’s own strength directly
opposed to the thesis of the innate corruption of man for every-
thing good P Undoubtedly, as far as conceivability is concerned,
that is to say, our discernment of its possibility, just as with
everything which has to be regarded as an event in time (change),
and as such necessarily determined by laws of nature, whilst its
opposite must yet be regarded as possible by freedom in accord-
ance with moral laws; but it is not opposed to the possibility of
this restoration itself. For if the moral law commands that we
shall now be better men, it follows inevitably that we also can be
better. The thesis of innate evil has no application in dogmatic
morality; for its precepts contain the very same duties, and con-
tinue in the same force, whether there is in us an innate pro-
minability of our will by this law, as an unconditional command, anyone
may readily be convinced (57) by asking himself whether he is immediately
certain of a faculty enabling him by firmness of purpose to overcome every
motive to transgression however powerful (Phalaris licet imperet ut sis
Falsus, et admoto dictet perjuria tauro). Everyone must confess that he does
not know whether in such a case he would not be shaken in his purpose. Never-
theless, duty commands him unconditionally ; thou shalt remain true to it;
and hence he justly concludes that he must also be able, and that accordingly
his will is free. Those who fallaciously represent this inscrutable property
as quite comprehensible create an illusion by the word determinism (the
thesis that the elective will is determined by internal sufficient reasons), as
if the difficulty consisted in reconciling this with freedom, which no one
supposes; the difficulty is, how predeterminism, by which voluntary actions
as events have their determining causes in preceding time (which with what
[59] IN HIJMAN NATURE. 359
pensity to transgression or not. In the culture of morality this
thesis has more significance, but still it means no more than this,
that in the moral cultivation of the moral capacity for good
created in us, we cannot begin from a natural state of inno-
cence, but must start from the supposition of a depravity of the
elective will in assuming maxims that are contrary to the origi-
nal moral capacity, and, since the propensity thereto is ineradi-
cable, with an unceasing effort against it. Now, as this only
leads to a progress in infinitum from bad to better, it follows
that the transformation of the disposition of a bad into that of
a good man is to be placed in the change of the Supreme inner
principle of all his maxims, in accordance with the moral law,
provided that this new principle (the new heart) be itself immu-
table. A man cannot, however, naturally attain the conviction
[that it is immutable], either by immediate consciousness, (59)
or by the proof derived from the course of life he has hitherto
pursued, for the bottom of his heart (the subjective first princi-
ple of his maxims) is inscrutable to himself; but unto the path
that leads to it, and which is pointed out to him by a funda-
mentally improved disposition, he must be able to hope to arrive
by his own efforts, since he ought to become a good man and
can only be esteemed morally good by virtue of that which can
be imputed to him as done by himself.
Now reason, which is naturally disinclined to moral effort,
it contains is no longer in our power), can be consistent with freedom, by
which both the action itself and its opposite must be in the power of the
subject at the moment of its taking place; this is what men want to discern
and never will be able to discern.
There is no difficulty in reconciling the conception of freedom with the
idea of God as a necessary being; for freedom does not consist in the con-
tingency of the action (that it, is not determined by reasons at all), that is,
not in indeterminism (that it must be equally possible for God to do good or
evil, if his action is to be called free), but in absolute spontaneity, which
alone is endangered by predeterminism, which places the determining prin-
ciple of the action in preceding time, so that the action is now no longer in
my power, but in the hands of nature, and I am irresistibly determined;
and since succession in time is not to be conceived in God, this difficulty
disappears.
360 OF THE BAD PRINCIPLE IN HUMAN NATURE. [60}
opposes to this expectation of self-improvement all sorts of cor-
rupt ideas of religion, under the pretext of natural impotence
(among which is to be reckoned, attributing to God Himself the
adoption of the principle of happiness as the supreme condition
of His commands). Now we may divide all religions into two
classes—favour-seeking religion (mere worship), and moral reli-
gion, that is, the religion of a good life. By the former a man
either flatters himself that God can make him eternally happy
(by remission of his demerits), without his having any need to
become a better man, or if this does not seem possible to him,
that God can make him a better man, without his having to do
anything in the matter himself except to ask for it; which, as
before an all-seeing being asking is no more than wishing, would
in fact be doing nothing; for if the mere wish were sufficient,
every man would be good. But in the moral religion (and
amongst all the public religions that have ever existed the
Christian alone is moral) it is a fundamental principle that
everyone must do as much as lies in his power to become a
better man, and that it is only when he has not buried his
innate talent (Luke xix. 12–16), when he has used the original
capacity for good so as to become a better man, that he can
hope that what is not in his power will be supplied by a higher
co-operation. But it is not absolutely necessary that man should
know in what this co-operation consists; (60) perhaps it is even
inevitable that if the way in which it happens had been revealed
at a certain time, different men at another time should form
different conceptions of it, and that with all honesty. But then
the principle holds good: “it is not essential, and therefore not
necessary for everyone to know what God does or has done for
his salvation,” but it is essential to know what he himself has to
do in order to be worthy of this assistance."
! [There is appended in the original a long note (first added in the second
edition) on the relation between the preceding general remark and the cor-
responding remarks appended to the other three sections of the Philosophical
Theory of Religion. As these sections are not here translated, the note has
been omitted.]
APPEND IX.
—£-—
I.—ON A SUPPOSED RIGHT TO TELL LIES FROM
BENEWOLENT MOTIVES.1
IN the work called France, for the year 1797, Part VI. No. 1, on
Political Reactions, by Benjamin Constant, the following passage
occurs, p. 123:—
“The moral principle that it is one's duty to speak the truth, if
it were taken singly and unconditionally, would make all society im-
possible. We have the proof of this in the very direct consequences
which have been drawn from this principle by a German philoso-
pher, who goes so far as to affirm that to tell a falsehood to a murderer
who asked us whether our friend, of whom he was in pursuit, had not
taken refuge in our house, would be a crime.”
The French philosopher opposes this principle in the following
manner, p. 124:-“It is a duty to tell the truth. The motion of duty
is inseparable from the notion of right. A duty is what in one being
corresponds to the right of another. Where there are no rights there
are no duties. To tell the truth then is a duty, but only towards him
who has a right to the truth. But no man has a right to a truth
that injures others.” The Tpótov peo80s here lies in the statement
that “To tell the truth is a duty, but only towards him who has a right
to the truth.”
It is to be remarked, first, that the expression “to have a right to
the truth” is unmeaning. We should rather say, a man has a right
* [Rozenkranz, vol. vii., p. 295. This Essay was published in a Berlin periodical
in 1797.]
* “J. D. Michaelis, in Göttingen, propounded the same strange opinion even
before Kant. That Kant is the philosopher here referred to, I have been informed
by the Author of this work himself.”—K. F. CRAMER."
* I hereby admit that I have really said this in some place which I cannot now recollect.—
I. KANT.
362 APPENDIX.
to his own truthfulness (veracitas), that is, to subjective truth in his
own person. For to have a right objectively to truth would mean
that, as in meum and tuum generally, it depends on his will whether a
given statement shall be true or false, which would produce a singular
logic.
Now, the first question is whether a man—in cases where he can-
not avoid answering Yes or No—has the right to be untruthful. The
second question is whether, in order to prevent a misdeed that
threatens him or some one else, he is not actually bound to be
untruthful in a certain statement to which an unjust compulsion
forces him. f
Truth in utterances that cannot be avoided is the formal duty of
a man to everyone," however great the disadvantage that may arise
from it to him or any other; and although by making a false state-
ment I do no wrong to him who unjustly compels me to speak, yet I
do wrong to men in general in the most essential point of duty, so
that it may be called a lie (though not in the jurist's sense), that is,
So far as in me lies I cause that declarations in general find no credit,
and hence that all rights founded on contract should lose their force ;
and this is a wrong which is done to mankind.
If, then, we define a lie merely as an intentionally false declaration
towards another man, we need not add that it must injure another;
as the jurists think proper to put in their definition (mendacium est
falsiloquium in prajudicium alterius). For it always injures another;
if not another individual, yet mankind generally, since it vitiates the
source of justice. This benevolent lie may, however, by accident
(casus) become punishable even by civil laws; and that which escapes
liability to punishment only by accident may be condemned as a
Wrong even by external laws. For instance, if you have by a lie
hindered a man who is even now planning a murder, you are legally
responsible for all the consequences. But if you have strictly adhered
to the truth, public justice can find no fault with you, be the unfore-
seen consequence what it may. It is possible that whilst you have
honestly answered Yes to the murderer's question, whether his in-
tended victim is in the house, the latter may have gone out unob-
* I do not wish here to press this principle so far as to say that “falsehood is a
violation of duty to one's self.” For this principle belongs to Ethics, and here we
are speaking only of a duty of justice. Ethics look in this transgression only to the
worthlessness, the reproach of which the liar draws on himself.
APPENIDIX. 363
served, and so not have come in the way of the murderer, and the
deed therefore have not been done; whereas, if you lied and said he
was not in the house, and he had really gone out (though unknown to
you) so that the murderer met him as he went, and executed his pur-
pose on him, then you might with justice be accused as the cause of
his death. For, if you had spoken the truth as well as you knew it,
perhaps the murderer while seeking for his enemy in the house might
have been caught by neighbours coming up and the deed been pre-
vented. Whoever then tells a lie, however good his intentions may
be, must answer for the consequences of it, even before the civil tri-
bunal, and must pay the penalty for them, however unforeseen they
may have been ; because truthfulness is a duty that must be regarded
as the basis of all duties founded on contract, the laws of which would
be rendered uncertain and useless if even the least exception to them
were admitted.
To be truthful (honest) in all declarations is therefore a sacred uncon-
ditional command of reason, and not to be limited by any expediency.
M. Constant makes a thoughtful and sound remark on the decrying
of such strict principles, which it is alleged lose themselves in im-
practicable ideas, and are therefore to be rejected (p. 123):—“In
every case in which a principle proved to be true seems to be inappli-
cable, it is because we do not know the middle principle which contains
the medium of its application.” He adduces (p. 121) the doctrine of
equality as the first link forming the social chain (p. 121); “namely,
that no man can be bound by any laws except those to the formation
of which he has contributed. In a very contracted society this prin-
ciple may be directly applied and become the ordinary rule without
requiring any middle principle. But in a very numerous society we
must add a new principle to that which we here state. This middle
principle is, that the individuals may contribute to the formation of
the laws either in their own person or by representatives. Whoever
would try to apply the first principle to a numerous society without
taking in the middle principle would infallibly bring about its de-
struction. But this circumstance, which would only show the ignorance
or incompetence of the lawgiver, would prove nothing against the
principle itself.” He concludes (p. 125) thus: “A principle recog-
nised as truth must, therefore, never be abandoned, however obviously
danger may seem to be involved in it.” (And yet the good man
himself abandoned the unconditional principle of veracity on account
of the danger to society, because he could not discover any middle
364 APPENDIX.
principle would serve to prevent this danger; and, in fact, no such
principle is to be interpolated here.)
Retaining the names of the persons as they have been here brought
forward, “the French philosopher ” confounds the action by which
one does harm (nocet) to another by telling the truth, the admission
of which he cannot avoid, with the action by which he does him
wrong (ladit). It was merely an accident (casus) that the truth of the
statement did harm to the inhabitant of the house; it was not a free
deed (in the juridicial sense). For to admit his right to require
another to tell a lie for his benefit would be to admit a claim opposed
to all law. Every man has not only a right, but the strictest duty to
truthfulness in statements which he cannot avoid, whether they do
harm to himself or others. He himself, properly speaking, does not
do harm to him who suffers thereby; but this harm is caused by acci-
dent. For the man is not free to choose, since (if he must speak at
all) veracity is an unconditional duty. The “German philosopher.”
will therefore not adopt as his principle the proposition (p. 124): “It
is a duty to speak the truth, but only to him who has a right to the
truth,” first on account of the obscurity of the expression, for truth is
not a possession, the right to which can be granted to one, and refused
to another; and next and chiefly, because the duty of Veracity (of
which alone we are speaking here) makes no distinction between
persons towards whom we have this duty, and towards whom We may
be free from it; but is an unconditional duty which holds in all circum-
stances. -
Now, in order to proceed from a metaphysio of Right (which
abstracts from all conditions of experience) to a principle of polities
(which implies these notions to cases of experience), and by means of
this to the solution of a problem of the latter in accordance with the
general principle of right, the philosopher will enunciate :-1. An
Aariom, that is, an apodictically certain proposition, which follows:
directly from the definition of external right (harmony of the freedom
of each with the freedom of all by a universal law). 2. A Postulate
of external public law as the united will of all on the principle of
equality, without which there could not exist the freedom of all. 3. A
problem; how it is to be arranged that harmony may be maintained in
a society, however large, on principles of freedom and equality (namely
by means of a representative system); and this will then become a
principle of the political system, the establishment and arrangement of
Which will contain enactments which, drawn from practical know-
APPENDIX. 365
ledge of men, have in view only the mechanism of administration of
justice, and how this is to be suitably carried out. Justice must never
be accommodated to the political system, but always the political Sys-
tem to justice.
“A principle recognised as true (I add, recognised d priori, and
therefore apodictic) must never be abandoned, however obviously
danger may seem to be involved in it,” says the author. Only here
we must not understand the danger of doing harm (accidentally), but of
doing wrong; and this would happen if the duty of Veracity, which is
quite unconditional, and constitutes the Supreme condition of justice
in utterances, were made conditional and subordinate to other consi-
derations; and, although by a certain lie I in fact do no wrong to any
person, yet I infringe the principle of justice in regard to all indis-
pensably necessary statements generally (I do wrong formally, though
not materially; and this is much worse than to commit an injustice
to any individual, because such a deed does not presuppose any prin-
ciple leading to it in the subject. The man who, when asked whether
in the statement he is about to make he intends to speak truth or not,
does not receive the question with indignation at the suspicion thus
expressed towards him that he might be a liar, but who asks permis-
sion first to consider possible exceptions, is already a liar (in potentia),
since he shows that he does not recognize veracity as a duty in itself,
but reserves exceptions from a rule which in its nature does not admit
of exceptions, since to do so would be self-contradictory.
All practical principles of justice must contain strict truths, and
the principles here called middle principles can only contain the closer
definition of their application to actual cases (according to the rules
of politics), and never exceptions from them, since exceptions destroy
the universality, an account of which alone they bear the name of
principles.
II.- ON THE SAYING “NECESSITY HAS NO LAW''.
THERE is no casus necessitatis except in the case where an uncondi-
tional duty conflicts with a duty which, though perhaps great, is yet
conditional; e.g. if the question is about preserving the State from
disaster by betraying a person who stands towards another in a
relation such as, for example, that of father and son. To save the
366 APPENDIX.
State from harm is an unconditional duty; to save an individual is
only a conditional duty, namely, provided he has not been guilty of a
crime against the State. The information given to the authorities
may be given with the greatest reluctance, but it is given under pres-
sure, namely, moral necessity. But if a shipwrecked man thrusts.
another from his plank in order to save his own life, and it is said
that he had the right of necessity (i. e. physical necessity) to do so,
this is wholly false. For to maintain my own life is only a conditional
duty (viz. if it can be done without crime), but it is an unconditional
duty not to take the life of another who does not injure me, nay, does
not even bring me into peril of losing it. However, the teachers of
general civil right proceed quite consistently in admitting this right
of necessity. For the sovereign power could not connect any punish-
ment with the prohibition; for this punishment would necessarily be
death, but it would be an absurd law that would threaten death to
a man if when in danger he did not voluntarily submit to death.-
IFrom “Das mag in der Theorie richtig Seyn, u. S. w.” (Rosenkr., vii.,
p. 21.1.)
[The two cases here considered were probably suggested by Cicero,
who quotes them from Hecato, a disciple of Panaetius.—De Off. iii. 23.]
I N D E X.
ACT, 338.
Adams, Dr., quoted, 228, note ; 305,
%20te.
Analytic and Synthetic, 34, 37, 207.
Apathy, 319.
Apodictic, 281.
Appetite, 267.
Appetitive Faculty, 265.
Automaton, 195.
Autonomy, 51, 59.
Bad, Concept of, 343.
Benevolence, 312.
Bliss, 215, 220, note.
Categories, 233.
Categories of Freedom, 157.
Categorical Imperative, 31, 33.
three forms of,
39, 47, 49.
Clarke, Dr., quoted, 304, note.
Commands, 33.
Concupiscence, 267.
Conflict of Duties, 280.
Conscience, 192, 311, 321.
Consciousness, Immediate, 71.
Contentment, 214.
Counsels, 33.
Deduction, 274, note.
Deed, 16, 279.
Deontology, 285.
Depravity, 336.
Desert, Ill, 127.
Dignity, 53.
Duty, 52, 58, 279.
Ego, 71.
IEmotions, 319.
Ends, Kingdom of, 51.
Enthusiasm, 320.
Epicurean Summum bonum, 207, 223.
Ethics, 290.
Ethical Legislation, 275, 6.
Eudaemonism, 61, 124.
Evil, 151.
Fanaticism, 233.
Feeling, 266.
——, Moral, 310.
Frailty, 336.
Freedom, 65.
– of Elective Will, 268.
Difficulty connected with,
194.
Golden Rule, 48, note.
Happiness, 35, 221.
Hearne, quoted, 340.
Heteronomy, 51, 59.
Higher and Lower Desires, 109.
Holiness, 98, note ; 218.
Holy, 58.
Hume, 99.
Hutchinson, 61, 129.
Immanent, 138, note.
Imperatives, 30, 106, 278.
Impurity, 336.
Imputation, 283.
Inclination, 30, note ; 43, note ; 335,
720te.
368
INDEX.
Inclination, Sense free, 267.
Indifference, Liberty of, 282.
Indifferentists, 329.
Inmate Guilt, 345.
Intellectual Intuition, 193, 219.
Interest, 30, note ; 267.
of Reason, 216.
Juridicial, 275.
Jurisprudence, Principle of, 307.
Juvenal, quoted, 257.
Ringdom, 51.
of Nature, 57.
of Ends, 51.
Legality, 269, 282.
Life, 265.
Love, 176, 353, note,
Matter of Faculty of Desire, 107.
Maxim, 17, note; 88, note; 105, 282.
Mendelssohn, 195.
Metaphysic, 272.
Morality, 52, 58, 220, 275, 282.
Moral Sense, 61, 128, 213.
Motive, 45.
Mundus Intelligibilis, 57.
Mysticism, 162.
Nature, Formal Notion of, 57.
Ringdom of, 57.
Necessary being, Idea of, 200.
Noumenon, 210.
Obligation, 58, 278.
Passion, 319.
Perfect and Imperfect Duties, 39.
Person, 57.
Personality, 279, 334.
Postulate, 99, note ; 219.
Pragmatic, 34, note.
Priestley, Dr., 192.
Primacy, 216.
Principle, 38, note.
Propension, 43, note; 335, note.
Propensio Intellectualis, 267.
Prudence, 33, note.
Reason and Understanding, 71.
Reatus, 345.
Respect, 18, note ; 313.
Rigourists, 329.
Rousseau, 326.
Rules, 33.
Sanctification, 220, note.
Sanction, 226.
Schiller, 330, note.
Self-love, 353, note.
Sensibility, 226, note.
Spring, 45.
Stoics, 207, 223.
Stoical Morality, 224, note.
Summum bonum, 202.
Transcendent, 138, note.
Type of the Moral Law, 161.
Typic, 159.
Value, −53.
Waucanson, 195.
Virue, 305, 316.
Will, 45, 65.
Absolutely good, 55.
Elective, 268, note.
Wisdom, 228.
Wizenmann, 242.
World of Sense and of Understanding,
70.
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