Introduction
Civilization has raised this latest era so far above the ancient antithesis of Reason
and faith, of philosophy and positive religion that this opposition of faith and
knowledge has acquired quite a different sense and has now been transferred into
the field of philosophy itself. In earlier times philosophy was said to be the
handmaid of faith. Ideas and expressions of this sort have vanished and
philosophy has irresistibly affirmed its absolute autonomy. Reason, if it is in fact
Reason that appropriates this name, has made itself into such an authority within
positive religion that a philosophical struggle against the positive, against
miracles and suchlike, is now regarded as obsolete and unenlightened. Kant tried
to put new life into the positive form of religion with a meaning derived from his
philosophy, but his attempt was received poorly, not because it would have
changed the meaning peculiar to these forms, but because they no longer
appeared to be worth the bother. The question arises, however, whether
victorious Reason has not suffered the same fate that the barbarous nations in
their victorious strength have usually suffered at the hands of civilized nations
that weakly succumbed to them. As rulers the barbarians may have held the upper
hand outwardly, but they surrendered to the defeated spiritually. Enlightened
Reason won a glorious victory over what it believed, in its limited conception of
religion, to be faith as opposed to Reason. Yet seen in a clear light the victory
comes to no more than this: the positive element with which Reason busied itself
to do battle, is no longer religion, and victorious Reason is no longer Reason. The
new born peace that hovers triumphantly over the corpse of Reason and faith,
uniting them as the child of both, has as little of Reason in it as it has of authentic
faith.
Reason had already gone to seed in and for itself when it envisaged religion
merely as something positive and not idealistically. And after its battle with
religion the best that Reason could manage was to take a look at itself and come
to self-awareness. Reason, having in this way become mere intellect,
acknowledges its own nothingness by placing that which is better than it in a faith
outside and above itself, as a beyond [to be believed in]. This is what has
happened in the philosophies of Kant, Jacobi, and Fichte. Philosophy has made
itself the handmaid of a faith once more.
The Enlightenment, in its positive aspect, was a hubbub of vanity without a firm
core. It obtained a core in its negative procedure by grasping its own negativity.
Through the purity and infinity of the negative it freed itself from its insipidity
but precisely for this reason it could admit positive knowledge only of the finite
and empirical. The eternal remained in a realm beyond, a beyond too vacuous for
cognition so that this infinite void of knowledge could only be filled with the
subjectivity of longing and divining. Thus what used to be regarded as the death
of philosophy, that Reason should renounce its existence in the Absolute,
excluding itself totally from it and relating itself to it only negatively, became
now the zenith of philosophy. By coming to consciousness of its own
nothingness, the Enlightenment turns this nothingness into a system.
The great form of the world spirit that has come to cognizance of itself in these
philosophies, is the principle of the North, and from the religious point of view,
of Protestantism. This principle is subjectivity for which beauty and truth present
themselves in feelings and persuasions, in love and intellect. Religion builds its
temples and altars in the heart of the individual. In sighs and prayers he seeks for
the God whom he denies to himself in intuition, because of the risk that the
intellect will cognize what is intuited as a mere thing, reducing the sacred grove
to mere timber. Of course, the inner must be externalized; intention must become
effective in action; immediate religious sentiment must be expressed in external
gesture; and faith, though it flees from the objectivity of cognition, must become
objective to itself in thoughts, concepts, and words. But the intellect,
scrupulously distinguishes the objective from the subjective, and the objective is
what is accounted worthless and null. The struggle of subjective beauty must be
directed precisely to this end: to defend itself properly against the necessity
through which the subjective becomes objective. That beauty should become real
in objective form, and fall captive to objectivity, that consciousness should seek
to be directed at exposition and objectivity themselves, that it should want to
shape appearance or, shaped in it, to be at home there – all this should cease; for
it would be a dangerous superfluity, and an evil, as the intellect could turn it into
a thing (zu einem Etwas). Equally, if the beautiful feeling passed over into an
intuition that was without grief, it would be superstition.
That it is subjective beauty which grants this might to the intellect seems at first
glance to contradict its yearning which flies beyond the finite and to which the
finite is nothing. But the grant is as much a necessary aspect [of its relation to the
intellect] as is its striving against the intellect. This will be brought out more fully
in our exposition of the philosophies of this subjectivity. It is precisely through
its flight from the finite and through its rigidity that subjectivity turns the
beautiful into things – the grove into timber, the images into things that have eyes
and do not see, ears and do not hear. And if the Ideals cannot be reduced to the
block and stones of a wholly explicable (verständig) reality, they are made into
fictions. Any connection with the Ideals will then appear as a play without
substance, or as dependence upon objects and as superstition.
Yet alongside of this intellect which everywhere sees nothing but finitude in the
truth of being, religion has its sublime aspect as feeling (Empfindung), the love
filled with eternal longing; for it does not get hung up on any transitory sight
(Anschauung) or enjoyment, it yearns for eternal beauty and bliss. Religion, as
this longing, is subjective; but what it seeks and what is not given to it in intuition,
is the Absolute and the eternal. For if the longing were to find its object, then the
temporal beauty of a subject in his singularity would be its happiness, it would
be the perfection of a being belonging to the world; but to the extent that religion
as longing actually singularized beauty it would be nothing beautiful [as far as
the longing itself is concerned]. But [what the longing does not recognize is that]
when empirical existence is the pure body of inward beauty, it ceases to be
something temporal and on its own. The intention abides unpolluted by its
objective existence as an action; and neither the deed nor the enjoyment will be
built up by the intellect into something that is opposed to the true identity of the
inner and the outer. The highest cognition would be the cognition of what that
body is wherein the individual would not be single [and separate], and wherein
longing reaches perfect vision and blissful enjoyment.
When the time had come, the infinite longing that yearns beyond body and world,
reconciled itself with existence. But the reality with which it became reconciled,
the objective sphere acknowledged by subjectivity, was in fact merely empirical
existence, the ordinary world and ordinary matters of fact (Wirklichkeit). Hence,
this reconciliation did not itself lose the character of absolute opposition implicit
in beautiful longing. Rather, it flung itself upon the other pole of the antithesis,
the empirical world. Although the reconciliation was sure of itself and firm in its
inner ground because of the absolute and blind natural necessity [of empirical
existence] it was still in need of an objective form for this [inner] ground. Being
immersed in the reality of empirical existence this reconciliation has an
unconscious certainty which must, by the same necessity of nature, seek to secure
justification and a good conscience. At the conscious level it was the doctrine of
happiness that brought about this reconciliation. The fixed point of departure here
is the empirical subject, just as what it becomes reconciled with is ordinary life
(Wirklichkeit): the empirical subject is allowed to confide in ordinary life and
surrender to it without sin. The utter crudity and vulgarity that are at the bottom
of this doctrine of eudaemonism are redeemed only by its striving toward
justification and good conscience. But Reason cannot achieve this justification
and good conscience through the Idea, since the empirical is [here] absolute. Only
the objectivity of the intellect can attain the concept, which has presented itself
in its most highly abstract form as so-called pure Reason.
The fixed principle of this system of culture is that the finite is in and for itself,
that it is absolute, and is the sole reality. According to this principle, the finite
and singular stands on one side, in the form of manifoldness; and anything
religious, ethical and beautiful is thrown onto this side because it can be
conceived as singular by the intellect. On the other side there is this very same
absolute finitude but in the form of the infinite as concept of happiness. The
infinite and the finite are here not to be posited as identical in the Idea; for each
of them is for itself absolute. So they stand opposed to each other in the
connection of domination; for in the absolute antithesis of infinite and finite the
concept is what does the determining. However, above this absolute antithesis
and above the relative identities of domination and empirical conceivability,
there is the eternal. Because the antithesis [between the infinite and the finite] is
absolute, the sphere of the eternal is the incalculable, the inconceivable, the
empty – an incognizable God beyond the boundary stakes of Reason. It is a
sphere that is nothing for intuition since intuition is only allowed to be sensuous
and limited. Equally, it is nothing for enjoyment since only empirical happiness
exists, and nothing for cognition since what is here called Reason consists solely
in calculating the worth of each and every thing with respect to the singularity,
and in positing [i.e., subsuming] every Idea under finitude.
This is the basic character of eudaemonism and the Enlightenment. The beautiful
subjectivity of Protestantism is transformed into empirical subjectivity; the
poetry of Protestant grief that scorns all reconciliation with empirical existence
is transformed into the prose of satisfaction with the finite and of good conscience
about it. What is the relation of this basic character to the philosophies of Kant,
Jacobi and Fichte? So little do these philosophies step out of this basic character
that, on the contrary, they have merely perfected it to the highest degree. Their
conscious direction is flatly opposed to the principle of eudaemonism. However,
because they are nothing but this direction, their positive character is just this
principle itself; so that the way these philosophies modify eudaemonism merely
gives it a perfection of formation, which has no importance in principle, no
significance for Reason and philosophy. The absoluteness of the finite and of
empirical reality is still maintained in these philosophies. The infinite and the
finite remain absolutely opposed. Ideality (das Idealische) is conceived only as
the concept. And in particular, when this concept is posited affirmatively, the
only identity of the finite and infinite that remains possible is a relative identity,
the domination of the concept over what appears as the real and the finite,
everything beautiful and ethical being here included. And on the other hand,
when the concept is posited negatively, the subjectivity of the individual is
present in empirical form, and the domination is not that of the intellect but is a
matter of the natural strength and weakness of the subjectivities opposed to one
another. Above this absolute finitude and absolute infinity there remains the
Absolute as an emptiness of Reason, a fixed realm of the incomprehensible, of a
faith which is in itself non-rational (vernunftlos), but which is called rational
because the Reason that is restricted to its absolute opposite recognizes
something higher above itself from which it is self-excluded.
In the form of eudaemonism the principle of an absolute finitude has not yet
achieved perfect abstraction. For on the side of infinity, the concept is not posited
in purity; because it is filled with content it stays fixed as happiness. Because the
concept is not pure, it has positive equality with its opposite; for its content is
precisely the same reality, which is manifoldness on the other side [the side of
finitude] – but on the side of infinity it is posited in conceptual form.
Hence, there is no reflection on the opposition, which is to say that the opposition
is not objective: the empirical is not posited as negativity for the concept nor the
concept as negativity for the empirical nor the concept as that which is in itself
negative. When abstraction achieves perfection, there is reflection on this
opposition, the ideal opposition becomes objective, and each of the opposites is
posited as something which is not what the other is. Unity and the manifold now
confront one another as abstractions, with the result that the opposites have both
positive and negative aspects for one another: the empirical is both an absolute
something and absolute nothing for the concept. In the former perspective the
opposites are the preceding empiricism ; in the latter they are at the same time
idealism and scepticism. The former is called practical philosophy, the latter
theoretical philosophy. In practical philosophy, the empirical has absolute reality
for the concept, that is, it has absolute reality in and for itself; in theoretical
philosophy knowledge of the empirical is nothing.
The philosophy of Locke and the doctrine of happiness were the earlier
philosophical manifestations (Erscheinungen) of this realism of finitude (to
which the non-philosophical manifestations, all the hustle and bustle of
contemporary civilization, still belong). Locke and the eudaemonists transformed
philosophy into empirical psychology. They raised the standpoint of the subject,
the standpoint of absolutely existing finitude, to the first and highest place. They
asked and answered the question of what the universe is for a subjectivity that
feels and is conscious by way of calculations typical of the intellect, or in other
words, for a Reason solely immersed in finitude, a Reason that renounces
intuition and cognition of the eternal. The philosophies of Kant, Jacobi, and
Fichte are the completion and idealization of this empirical psychology; they
consist in coming to understand that the infinite concept is strictly opposed to the
empirical. They understood the sphere of this antithesis, a finite and an infinite,
to be absolute: but [they did not see that] if infinity is thus set up against finitude,
each is as finite as the other. They understood the eternal to be above this [sphere
of] opposition, beyond the concept and the empirical; but they understood the
cognitive faculty and Reason simply to be that sphere. Now a Reason that thinks
only the finite will naturally be found to be able to think only the finite; and
Reason as impulse and instinct will naturally be found not to be able to think the
eternal.
The idealism of which these philosophies are capable is an idealism of the finite;
not in the sense that the finite is nothing in them, but in the sense that the finite
is received into ideal form: they posit finite ideality, i.e., the pure concept, as
infinity absolutely opposed to finitude, together with the finite that is real and
they posit both equally absolutely. (In its subjective dimension, that is, in Jacobi’s
philosophy, this idealism can only have the form of scepticism, and not even of
true scepticism, because Jacobi turns pure thinking into something merely
subjective, whereas idealism consists in the assertion that pure thinking is
objective thinking.)
The one self-certifying certainty (das an sich und einzig Gewisse), then, is that
there exists a thinking subject, a Reason affected with finitude; and the whole of
philosophy consists in determining the universe with respect to this finite Reason.
Kant’s so-called critique of the cognitive faculties, Fichte’s [doctrine that]
consciousness cannot be transcended nor become transcendent, Jacobi’s refusal
to undertake anything impossible for Reason, all amount to nothing but the
absolute restriction of Reason to the form of finitude, [an injunction] never to
forget the absoluteness of the subject in every rational cognition; they make
limitedness into an eternal law and an eternal being both in itself and for
philosophy. So these philosophies have to be recognized as nothing but the
culture (Kultur) of reflection raised to a system. This is a culture of ordinary
human intellect which does, to be sure, rise to the thinking of a universal; but
because it remains ordinary intellect it takes the infinite concept to be absolute
thought and keeps what remains of its intuition of the eternal strictly isolated
from the infinite concept. It does so either by renouncing that intuition altogether
and sticking to concept and experience, or by keeping both [intuition and
concept] although unable to unite them – for it can neither take up its intuition
into the concept, nor yet nullify both concept and experience [in intuition]. The
torment of a nobler nature subjected to this limitation, this absolute opposition,
expresses itself in yearning and striving; and the consciousness that it is a barrier
which cannot be crossed expresses itself as faith in a realm beyond the barrier.
But because of its perennial incapacity this faith is simultaneously the
impossibility of rising above the barrier into the realm of Reason, the realm which
is intrinsically clear and free of longing.
The fixed standpoint which the all-powerful culture of our time has established
for philosophy is that of a Reason affected by sensibility. In this situation
philosophy cannot aim at the cognition of God, but only at what is called the
cognition of man. This so-called man and his humanity conceived as a rigidly,
insuperably finite sort of Reason form philosophy’s absolute standpoint. Man is
not a glowing spark of eternal beauty, or a spiritual focus of the universe, but an
absolute sensibility. He does, however, have the faculty of faith so that he can
touch himself up here and there with a spot of alien supersensuousness. It is as if
art, considered simply as portraiture, were to express its ideal aspect (ihr
Idealisches) through the longing it depicts on an ordinary face and the
melancholy smile of the mouth, while it was strictly forbidden to represent the
gods in their exaltation above longing and sorrow, on the grounds that the
presentation of eternal images would only be possible at the expense of humanity.
Similarly philosophy is not supposed to present the Idea of man, but the abstract
concept of an empirical mankind all tangled up in limitations, and to stay
immovably impaled on the stake of the absolute antithesis; and when it gets clear
about its restriction to the sensuous – either analyzing its own abstraction or
entirely abandoning it in the fashion of the sentimental bel esprit-philosophy is
supposed to prettify itself with the surface colour of the supersensuous by
pointing, in faith to something higher.
In philosophy, however, the actual and the temporal as such disappear. This is
called cruel dissection destructive of the wholeness of man, or violent abstraction
that has no truth, and particularly no practical truth. This abstraction is conceived
of as the painful cutting off of an essential part from the completeness of the
whole. But the temporal and empirical, and privation, are thus recognized as an
essential part and an absolute In-itself. It is as if someone who sees only the feet
of a work of art were to complain, when the whole work is revealed to his sight,
that he was being deprived of his deprivation and that the incomplete had been
in-completed. Finite cognition is this sort of cognition of a part and a singular. If
the absolute were put together out of the finite and the infinite, abstracting from
the finite would indeed be a loss. In the Idea, however, finite and infinite are one,
and hence finitude as such, i.e., as something that was supposed to have truth and
reality in and for itself, has vanished. Yet what was negated was only the negative
in finitude; and thus the true affirmation was posited.