Preface
Original German
Diese Prolegomena sind nicht zum Gebrauch für Lehrlinge, sondern für künftige Lehrer und sollen auch diesen nicht etwa dienen, um den Vortrag einer schon vorhandnen Wissenschaft anzuordnen, sondern um diese Wissenschaft selbst allererst zu erfinden.
Es giebt Gelehrte, denen die Geschichte der Philosophie (der alten sowohl, als neuen) selbst ihre Philosophie ist; für diese sind gegenwärtige Prolegomena nicht geschrieben. Sie müssen warten, bis diejenigen, die aus den Quellen der Vernunft selbst zu schöpfen bemüht sind, ihre Sache werden ausgemacht haben, und alsdann wird an ihnen die Reihe sein, von dem Geschehenen der Welt Nachricht zu geben. Widrigenfalls kann nichts gesagt werden, was ihrer Meinung nach nicht schon sonst gesagt worden ist, und in der That mag dieses auch als eine untrügliche Vorhersagung für alles Künftige gelten; denn da der menschliche Verstand über unzählige Gegenstände viele Jahrhunderte hindurch auf mancherlei Weise geschwärmt hat, so kann es nicht leicht fehlen, daß nicht zu jedem Neuen etwas Altes gefunden werden sollte, was damit einige Ähnlichkeit hätte.
Meine Absicht ist, alle diejenigen, so es werth finden, sich mit Metaphysik zu beschäftigen, zu überzeugen, daß es unumgänglich nothwendig sei, ihre Arbeit vor der Hand auszusetzen, alles bisher Geschehene als ungeschehen anzusehen und vor allen Dingen zuerst die Frage aufzuwerfen: ob auch so etwas als Metaphysik überall nur möglich sei.
Ist sie Wissenschaft, wie kommt es, daß sie sich nicht wie andre Wissenschaften in allgemeinen und daurenden Beifall setzen kann? Ist sie keine, wie geht es zu, daß sie doch unter dem Scheine einer Wissenschaft unaufhörlich groß thut und den menschlichen Verstand mit niemals erlöschenden, aber nie erfüllten Hoffnungen hinhält? Man mag also entweder sein Wissen oder Nichtwissen demonstriren, so muß doch einmal über die Natur dieser angemaßten Wissenschaft etwas Sicheres ausgemacht werden; denn auf demselben Fuße kann es mit ihr unmöglich länger bleiben. Es scheint beinahe belachenswerth, indessen daß jede andre Wissenschaft unaufhörlich fortrückt, sich in dieser, die doch die Weisheit selbst sein will, deren Orakel jeder Mensch befrägt, beständig auf derselben Stelle herumzudrehen, ohne einen Schritt weiter zu kommen. Auch haben sich ihre Anhänger gar sehr verloren, und man sieht nicht, daß diejenigen, die sich stark genug fühlen, in andern Wissenschaften zu glänzen, ihren Ruhm in dieser wagen wollen, wo jedermann, der sonst in allen übrigen Dingen unwissend ist, sich ein entscheidendes Urtheil anmaßt, weil in diesem Lande in der That noch kein sicheres Maß und Gewicht vorhanden ist, um Gründlichkeit von seichtem Geschwätze zu unterscheiden.
Es ist aber eben nicht so etwas Unerhörtes, daß nach langer Bearbeitung einer Wissenschaft, wenn man Wunder denkt, wie weit man schon darin gekommen sei, endlich sich jemand die Frage einfallen läßt: ob und wie überhaupt eine solche Wissenschaft möglich sei. Denn die menschliche Vernunft ist so baulustig, daß sie mehrmals schon den Thurm aufgeführt, hernach aber wieder abgetragen hat, um zu sehen, wie das Fundament desselben wohl beschaffen sein möchte. Es ist niemals zu spät, vernünftig und weise zu werden; es ist aber jederzeit schwerer, wenn die Einsicht spät kommt, sie in Gang zu bringen.
Zu fragen, ob eine Wissenschaft auch wohl möglich sei, setzt voraus, daß man an der Wirklichkeit derselben zweifle. Ein solcher Zweifel aber beleidigt jedermann, dessen ganze Habseligkeit vielleicht in diesem vermeinten Kleinode bestehen möchte; und daher mag sich der, so sich diesen Zweifel entfallen läßt, nur immer auf Widerstand von allen Seiten gefaßt machen. Einige werden in stolzem Bewußtsein ihres alten und eben daher für rechtmäßig gehaltenen Besitzes mit ihren metaphysischen Compendien in der Hand auf ihn mit Verachtung herabsehen; andere, die nirgend etwas sehen, als was mit dem einerlei ist, was sie schon sonst irgendwo gesehen haben, werden ihn nicht verstehen, und alles wird einige Zeit hindurch so bleiben, als ob gar nichts vorgefallen wäre, was eine nahe Veränderung besorgen oder hoffen ließe.
Gleichwohl getraue ich mir vorauszusagen, daß der selbstdenkende Leser dieser Prolegomenen nicht blos an seiner bisherigen Wissenschaft zweifeln, sondern in der Folge gänzlich überzeugt sein werde, daß es dergleichen gar nicht geben könne, ohne daß die hier geäußerte Forderungen geleistet werden, auf welchen ihre Möglichkeit beruht, und da dieses noch niemals geschehen, daß es überall noch keine Metaphysik gebe. Da sich indessen die Nachfrage nach ihr doch auch niemals verlieren kann257.1, weil das Interesse der allgemeinen Menschenvernunft mit ihr gar zu innigst verflochten ist, so wird er gestehen, daß eine völlige Reform, oder vielmehr eine neue Geburt derselben nach einem bisher ganz unbekannten Plane unausbleiblich bevorstehe, man mag sich nun eine Zeitlang dagegen sträuben, wie man wolle.
Seit Lockes und Leibnizens Versuchen, oder vielmehr seit dem Entstehen der Metaphysik, so weit die Geschichte derselben reicht, hat sich keine Begebenheit zugetragen, die in Ansehung des Schicksals dieser Wissenschaft hätte entscheidender werden können, als der Angriff, den David Hume auf dieselbe machte. Er brachte kein Licht in diese Art von Erkenntniß, aber er schlug doch einen Funken, bei welchem man wohl ein Licht hätte anzünden können, wenn er einen empfänglichen Zunder getroffen hätte, dessen Glimmen sorgfältig wäre unterhalten und vergrößert worden.
Hume ging hauptsächlich von einem einzigen, aber wichtigen Begriffe der Metaphysik, nämlich dem der Verknüpfung der Ursache und Wirkung, (mithin auch dessen Folgebegriffe der Kraft und Handlung etc.) aus und forderte die Vernunft, die da vorgiebt, ihn in ihrem Schooße erzeugt zu haben, auf, ihm Rede und Antwort zu geben, mit welchem Rechte sie sich denkt: daß etwas so beschaffen sein könne, daß, wenn es gesetzt ist, dadurch auch etwas anderes nothwendig gesetzt werden müsse; denn das sagt der Begriff der Ursache. Er bewies unwidersprechlich: daß es der Vernunft gänzlich unmöglich sei, a priori und aus Begriffen eine solche Verbindung zu denken, denn diese enthält Nothwendigkeit; es ist aber gar nicht abzusehen, wie darum, weil Etwas ist, etwas anderes nothwendiger Weise auch sein müsse, und wie sich also der Begriff von einer solchen Verknüpfung a priori einführen lasse. Hieraus schloß er, daß die Vernunft sich mit diesem Begriffe ganz und gar betrüge, daß sie ihn fälschlich für ihr eigen Kind halte, da er doch nichts anders als ein Bastard der Einbildungskraft sei, die, durch Erfahrung beschwängert, gewisse Vorstellungen unter das Gesetz der Association gebracht hat und eine daraus entspringende subjective Nothwendigkeit, d. i. Gewohnheit, für eine objective, aus Einsicht, unterschiebt. Hieraus schloß er: die Vernunft habe gar kein Vermögen, solche Verknüpfungen auch selbst nur im Allgemeinen zu denken, weil ihre Begriffe alsdann bloße Erdichtungen sein würden; und alle ihre vorgeblich a priori bestehende Erkenntnisse wären nichts als falsch gestempelte gemeine Erfahrungen, welches eben so viel sagt, als: es gebe überall keine Metaphysik und könne auch keine geben.258.1
So übereilt und unrichtig auch seine Folgerung war, so war sie doch wenigstens auf Untersuchung gegründet; und diese Untersuchung war es wohl werth, daß sich die guten Köpfe seiner Zeit vereinigt hätten, die Aufgabe in dem Sinne, wie er sie vortrug, wo möglich glücklicher aufzulösen, woraus denn bald eine gänzliche Reform der Wissenschaft hätte entspringen müssen.
Allein das der Metaphysik von je her ungünstige Schicksal wollte, daß er von keinem verstanden wurde. Man kann es, ohne eine gewisse Pein zu empfinden, nicht ansehen, wie so ganz und gar seine Gegner Reid, Oswald, Beattie und zuletzt noch Priestley den Punkt seiner Aufgabe verfehlten und, indem sie immer das als zugestanden annahmen, was er eben bezweifelte, dagegen aber mit Heftigkeit und mehrentheils mit großer Unbescheidenheit dasjenige bewiesen, was ihm niemals zu bezweifeln in den Sinn gekommen war, seinen Wink zur Verbesserung so verkannten, daß alles in dem alten Zustande blieb, als ob nichts geschehen wäre. Es war nicht die Frage, ob der Begriff der Ursache richtig, brauchbar und in Ansehung der ganzen Naturerkenntniß unentbehrlich sei, denn dieses hatte Hume niemals in Zweifel gezogen; sondern ob er durch die Vernunft a priori, gedacht werde und auf solche Weise eine von aller Erfahrung unabhängige innre Wahrheit und daher auch wohl weiter ausgedehnte Brauchbarkeit habe, die nicht blos auf Gegenstände der Erfahrung eingeschränkt sei: hierüber erwartete Hume Eröffnung. Es war ja nur die Rede von dem Ursprunge dieses Begriffs, nicht von der Unentbehrlichkeit desselben im Gebrauche: wäre jener nur ausgemittelt, so würde es sich wegen der Bedingungen seines Gebrauches und des Umfangs, in welchem er gültig sein kann, schon von selbst gegeben haben.
Die Gegner des berühmten Mannes hätten aber, um der Aufgabe ein Gnüge zu thun, sehr tief in die Natur der Vernunft, so fern sie blos mit reinem Denken beschäftigt ist, hineindringen müssen, welches ihnen ungelegen war. Sie erfanden daher ein bequemeres Mittel, ohne alle Einsicht trotzig zu thun, nämlich die Berufung auf den gemeinen Menschenverstand. In der That ists eine große Gabe des Himmels, einen geraden (oder, wie man es neuerlich benannt hat, schlichten) Menschenverstand zu besitzen. Aber man muß ihn durch Thaten beweisen, durch das Überlegte und Vernünftige, was man denkt und sagt, nicht aber dadurch, daß, wenn man nichts Kluges zu seiner Rechtfertigung vorzubringen weiß, man sich auf ihn als ein Orakel beruft. Wenn Einsicht und Wissenschaft auf die Neige gehen, alsdann und nicht eher sich auf den gemeinen Menschenverstand zu berufen, das ist eine von den subtilen Erfindungen neuerer Zeiten, dabei es der schalste Schwätzer mit dem gründlichsten Kopfe getrost aufnehmen und es mit ihm aushalten kann. So lange aber noch ein kleiner Rest von Einsicht da ist, wird man sich wohl hüten, diese Nothhülfe zu ergreifen. Und beim Lichte besehen, ist diese Appellation nichts anders als eine Berufung auf das Urtheil der Menge; ein Zuklatschen, über das der Philosoph erröthet, der populäre Witzling aber triumphirt und trotzig thut Ich sollte aber doch denken, Hume habe auf einen gesunden Verstand eben so wohl Anspruch machen können, als Beattie und noch überdem auf das, was dieser gewiß nicht besaß, nämlich eine kritische Vernunft, die den gemeinen Verstand in Schranken hält, damit er sich nicht in Speculationen versteige, oder, wenn blos von diesen die Rede ist, nichts zu entscheiden begehre, weil er sich über seine Grundsätze nicht zu rechtfertigen versteht; denn nur so allein wird er ein gesunder Verstand bleiben. Meißel und Schlägel können ganz wohl dazu dienen, ein Stück Zimmerholz zu bearbeiten, aber zum Kupferstechen muß man die Radirnadel brauchen. So sind gesunder Verstand sowohl als speculativer beide, aber jeder in seiner Art brauchbar: jener, wenn es auf Urtheile ankommt, die in der Erfahrung ihre unmittelbare Anwendung finden, dieser aber, wo im Allgemeinen, aus bloßen Begriffen, geurtheilt werden soll, z. B. in der Metaphysik, wo der sich selbst, aber oft per antiphrasin so nennende gesunde Verstand ganz und gar kein Urtheil hat.
Ich gestehe frei: die Erinnerung des David Hume war eben dasjenige, was mir vor vielen Jahren zuerst den dogmatischen Schlummer unterbrach und meinen Untersuchungen im Felde der speculativen Philosophie eine ganz andre Richtung gab. Ich war weit entfernt, ihm in Ansehung seiner Folgerungen Gehör zu geben, die blos daher rührten, weil er sich seine Aufgabe nicht im Ganzen vorstellte, sondern nur auf einen Theil derselben fiel, der, ohne das Ganze in Betracht zu ziehen, keine Auskunft geben kann. Wenn man von einem gegründeten, obzwar nicht ausgeführten Gedanken anfängt, den uns ein anderer hinterlassen, so kann man wohl hoffen, es bei fortgesetztem Nachdenken weiter zu bringen, als der scharfsinnige Mann kam, dem man den ersten Funken dieses Lichts zu verdanken hatte.
Ich versuchte also zuerst, ob sich nicht Hume’s Einwurf allgemein vorstellen ließe, und fand bald: daß der Begriff der Verknüpfung von Ursache und Wirkung bei weitem nicht der einzige sei, durch den der Verstand a priori sich Verknüpfungen der Dinge denkt, vielmehr daß Metaphysik ganz und gar daraus bestehe. Ich suchte mich ihrer Zahl zu versichern, und da dieses mir nach Wunsch, nämlich aus einem einzigen Princip, gelungen war, so ging ich an die Deduction dieser Begriffe, von denen ich nunmehr versichert war, daß sie nicht, wie Hume besorgt hatte, von der Erfahrung abgeleitet, sondern aus dem reinem Verstande entsprungen seien. Diese Deduction, die meinem scharfsinnigen Vorgänger unmöglich schien, die niemand außer ihm sich auch nur hatte einfallen lassen, obgleich jedermann sich der Begriffe getrost bediente, ohne zu fragen, worauf sich denn ihre objective Gültigkeit gründe, diese, sage ich, war das Schwerste, das jemals zum Behuf der Metaphysik unternommen werden konnte; und was noch das Schlimmste dabei ist, so konnte mir Metaphysik, so viel davon nur irgendwo vorhanden ist, hiebei auch nicht die mindeste Hülfe leisten, weil jene Deduction zuerst die Möglichkeit einer Metaphysik ausmachen soll. Da es mir nun mit der Auflösung des Humischen Problems nicht blos in einem besondern Falle, sondern in Absicht auf das ganze Vermögen der reinen Vernunft gelungen war: so konnte ich sichere, obgleich immer nur langsame Schritte thun, um endlich den ganzen Umfang der reinen Vernunft in seinen Grenzen sowohl, als seinem Inhalt vollständig und nach allgemeinen Principien zu bestimmen, welches denn dasjenige war, was Metaphysik bedarf, um ihr System nach einem sicheren Plan aufzuführen.
Ich besorge aber, daß es der Ausführung des Humischen Problems in seiner möglich größten Erweiterung (nämlich der Kritik der reinen Vernunft) eben so gehen dürfte, als es dem Problem selbst erging, da es zuerst vorgestellt wurde. Man wird sie unrichtig beurtheilen, weil man sie nicht versteht; man wird sie nicht verstehen, weil man das Buch zwar durchzublättern, aber nicht durchzudenken Lust hat; und man wird diese Bemühung darauf nicht verwenden wollen, weil das Werk trocken, weil es dunkel, weil es allen gewohnten Begriffen widerstreitend und überdem weitläuftig ist. Nun gestehe ich, daß es mir unerwartet sei, von einem Philosophen Klagen wegen Mangels an Popularität, Unterhaltung und Gemächlichkeit zu hören, wenn es um die Existenz einer gepriesenen und der Menschheit unentbehrlichen Erkenntniß selbst zu thun ist, die nicht anders als nach den strengsten Regeln einer schulgerechten Pünktlichkeit ausgemacht werden kann, auf welche zwar mit der Zeit auch Popularität folgen, aber niemals den Anfang machen darf. Allein was eine gewisse Dunkelheit betrifft, die zum Theil von der Weitläuftigkeit des Plans herrührt, bei welcher man die Hauptpunkte, auf die es bei der Untersuchung ankommt, nicht wohl übersehen kann: so ist die Beschwerde deshalb gerecht, und dieser werde ich durch gegenwärtige Prolegomena abhelfen.
Jenes Werk, welches das reine Vernunftvermögen in seinem ganzen Umfange und Grenzen darstellt, bleibt dabei immer die Grundlage, worauf sich die Prolegomena nur als Vorübungen beziehen; denn jene Kritik muß als Wissenschaft systematisch und bis zu ihren kleinsten Theilen vollständig dastehen, ehe noch daran zu denken ist, Metaphysik auftreten zu lassen, oder sich auch nur eine entfernte Hoffnung zu derselben zu machen.
Man ist es schon lange gewohnt, alte, abgenutzte Erkenntnisse dadurch neu aufgestutzt zu sehen, daß man sie aus ihren vormaligen Verbindungen herausnimmt, ihnen ein systematisches Kleid nach eigenem beliebigen Schnitte, aber unter neuen Titeln anpaßt; und nichts anders wird der größte Theil der Leser auch von jener Kritik zum voraus erwarten. Allein diese Prolegomena werden ihn dahin bringen, einzusehen, daß es eine ganz neue Wissenschaft sei, von welcher niemand auch nur den Gedanken vorher gefaßt hatte, wovon selbst die bloße Idee unbekannt war, und wozu von allem bisher Gegebenen nichts genutzt werden konnte, als allein der Wink, den Humes Zweifel geben konnten, der gleichfalls nichts von einer dergleichen möglichen förmlichen Wissenschaft ahndete, sondern sein Schiff, um es in Sicherheit zu bringen, auf den Strand (den Scepticism) setzte, da es denn liegen und verfaulen mag, statt dessen es bei mir darauf ankommt, ihm einen Piloten zu geben, der nach sicheren Principien der Steuermannskunst, die aus der Kenntniß des Globus gezogen sind, mit einer vollständigen Seekarte und einem Compaß versehen, das Schiff sicher führen könne, wohin es ihm gut dünkt.
Zu einer neuen Wissenschaft, die gänzlich isolirt und die einzige ihrer Art ist, mit dem Vorurtheil gehen, als könne man sie vermittelst seiner schon sonst erworbenen vermeinten Kenntnisse beurtheilen, obgleich die es eben sind, an deren Realität zuvor gänzlich gezweifelt werden muß, bringt nichts anders zuwege, als daß man allenthalben das zu sehen glaubt, was einem schon sonst bekannt war, weil etwa die Ausdrücke jenem ähnlich lauten: nur daß einem alles äußerst verunstaltet, widersinnisch und kauderwelsch vorkommen muß, weil man nicht die Gedanken des Verfassers, sondern immer nur seine eigene, durch lange Gewohnheit zur Natur gewordene Denkungsart dabei zum Grunde legt. Aber die Weitläuftigkeit des Werks, so fern sie in der Wissenschaft selbst und nicht dem Vortrage gegründet ist, die dabei unvermeidliche Trockenheit und scholastische Pünktlichkeit sind Eigenschaften, die zwar der Sache selbst überaus vortheilhaft sein mögen, dem Buche selbst aber allerdings nachtheilig werden müssen.
Es ist zwar nicht jedermann gegeben, so subtil und doch zugleich so anlockend zu schreiben als David Hume, oder so gründlich und dabei so elegant als Moses Mendelssohn; allein Popularität hätte ich meinem Vortrage (wie ich mir schmeichele) wohl geben können, wenn es mir nur darum zu thun gewesen wäre, einen Plan zu entwerfen und dessen Vollziehung andern anzupreisen, und mir nicht das Wohl der Wissenschaft, die mich so lange beschäftigt hielt, am Herzen gelegen hätte; denn übrigens gehörte viel Beharrlichkeit und auch selbst nicht wenig Selbstverläugnung dazu, die Anlockung einer früheren, günstigen Aufnahme der Aussicht auf einen zwar späten, aber dauerhaften Beifall nachzusetzen.
Plane machen ist mehrmals eine üppige prahlerische Geistesbeschäftigung, dadurch man sich ein Ansehen von schöpferischem Genie giebt, indem man fordert, was man selbst nicht leisten, tadelt, was man doch nicht besser machen kann, und vorschlägt, wovon man selbst nicht weiß, wo es zu finden ist; wiewohl auch nur zum tüchtigen Plane einer allgemeinen Kritik der Vernunft schon etwas mehr gehört hätte, als man wohl vermuthen mag, wenn er nicht blos wie gewöhnlich eine Declamation frommer Wünsche hätte werden sollen. Allein reine Vernunft ist eine so abgesonderte, in ihr selbst so durchgängig verknüpfte Sphäre, daß man keinen Theil derselben antasten kann, ohne alle übrige zu berühren, und nichts ausrichten kann, ohne vorher jedem seine Stelle und seinen Einfluß auf den andern bestimmt zu haben: weil, da nichts außer derselben ist, was unser Urtheil innerhalb berichtigen könnte, jedes Theiles Gültigkeit und Gebrauch von dem Verhältnisse abhängt, darin er gegen die übrige in der Vernunft selbst steht, und wie bei dem Gliederbau eines organisirten Körpers der Zweck jedes Gliedes nur aus dem vollständigen Begriff des Ganzen abgeleitet werden kann. Daher kann man von einer solchen Kritik sagen, daß sie niemals zuverlässig sei, wenn sie nicht ganz und bis auf die mindesten Elemente der reinen Vernunft vollendet ist, und daß man von der Sphäre dieses Vermögens entweder alles, oder nichts bestimmen und ausmachen müsse.
Ob aber gleich ein bloßer Plan, der vor der Kritik der reinen Vernunft vorhergehen möchte, unverständlich, unzuverlässig und unnütz sein würde, so ist er dagegen um desto nützlicher, wenn er darauf folgt. Denn dadurch wird man in den Stand gesetzt, das Ganze zu übersehen, die Hauptpunkte, worauf es bei dieser Wissenschaft ankommt, stückweise zu prüfen und manches dem Vortrage nach besser einzurichten, als es in der ersten Ausfertigung des Werks geschehen konnte.
Hier ist nun ein solcher Plan nach vollendetem Werke, der nunmehr nach analytischer Methode angelegt sein darf, da das Werk selbst durchaus nach synthetischer Lehrart abgefaßt sein mußte, damit die Wissenschaft alle ihre Articulationen, als den Gliederbau eines ganz besondern Erkenntnißvermögens, in seiner natürlichen Verbindung vor Augen stelle. Wer diesen Plan, den ich als Prolegomena vor aller künftigen Metaphysik voranschicke, selbst wiederum dunkel findet, der mag bedenken: daß es eben nicht nöthig sei, daß jedermann Metaphysik studire, daß es manches Talent gebe, welches in gründlichen und selbst tiefen Wissenschaften, die sich mehr der Anschauung nähern, ganz wohl fortkommt, dem es aber mit Nachforschungen durch lauter abgezogene Begriffe nicht gelingen will, und daß man seine Geistesgaben in solchem Fall auf einen andern Gegenstand verwenden müsse; daß aber derjenige, der Metaphysik zu beurtheilen, ja selbst eine abzufassen unternimmt, den Forderungen, die hier gemacht werden, durchaus ein Gnüge thun müsse, es mag nun auf die Art geschehen, daß er meine Auflösung annimmt, oder sie auch gründlich widerlegt und eine andere an deren Stelle setzt — denn abweisen kann er sie nicht —, und daß endlich die so beschrieene Dunkelheit (eine gewohnte Bemäntelung seiner eigenen Gemächlichkeit oder Blödsichtigkeit) auch ihren Nutzen habe: da alle, die in Ansehung aller andern Wissenschaften ein behutsames Stillschweigen beobachten, in Fragen der Metaphysik meisterhaft sprechen und dreust entscheiden, weil ihre Unwissenheit hier freilich nicht gegen anderer Wissenschaft deutlich absticht, wohl aber gegen ächte kritische Grundsätze, von denen man also rühmen kann:
ignavum, fucos, pecus a praesepibus arcent.
Virg.
257.1. Rusticus exspectat, dum defluat amnis; at ille Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum. Horat.
258.1. Gleichwohl nannte Hume eben diese zerstörende Philosophie selbst Metaphysik und legte ihr einen hohen Werth bei. „Metaphysik und Moral“, sagt er (Versuche 4ter Theil, Seite 214, deutsche Übers.), „sind die wichtigsten Zweige der Wissenschaft; Mathematik und Naturwissenschaft sind nicht halb so viel werth.“ Der scharfsinnige Mann sah aber hier blos auf den negativen Nutzen, den die Mäßigung der übertriebenen Ansprüche der speculativen Vernunft haben würde, um so viel endlose und verfolgende Streitigkeiten, die das Menschengeschlecht verwirren, gänzlich aufzuheben; aber er verlor darüber den positiven Schaden aus den Augen, der daraus entspringt, wenn der Vernunft die wichtigsten Aussichten genommen werden, nach denen allein sie dem Willen das höchste Ziel aller seiner Bestrebungen ausstecken kann.
Musean translation
Mouseia’s complete machine-assisted Musean translation, made directly from the complete German of the Prolegomena (AA IV 253–383, all §§1–60 and the Appendix), for fidelity, the steps of Kant’s argument, clarity and structure.
These prolegomena are intended not for apprentices but for future teachers, and even for them their purpose is not to arrange the presentation of a science already in existence, but to discover that science in the first place.
There are scholars for whom the history of philosophy, ancient as well as modern, is itself their philosophy; these prolegomena were not written for them. They must wait until those who seek to draw from the springs of reason itself have settled their business; then it will be their turn to inform the world of what has happened. Otherwise nothing can be said that, in their opinion, has not been said before. Indeed, this may count as an infallible prediction of everything to come: since the human understanding has ranged fancifully over countless objects in many different ways for many centuries, something old can scarcely fail to be found that bears some resemblance to every novelty.
My purpose is to convince all those who think metaphysics worth pursuing that they must necessarily suspend their work for the present, regard everything done so far as undone, and, before all else, first raise the question: is anything like metaphysics possible at all?
If it is a science, how is it that, unlike other sciences, it cannot win universal and lasting acceptance? If it is not, how does it keep boasting under the guise of a science, holding out to the human understanding hopes that never die but are never fulfilled? Whether we demonstrate our knowledge or our ignorance, something certain must at last be established about the nature of this self-appointed science; it cannot possibly go on as it has. It seems almost laughable that, while every other science advances without cease, this one—which claims to be wisdom itself, whose oracle everyone consults—keeps turning on the same spot without advancing a single step. Its adherents, too, have dwindled greatly. Those who feel strong enough to shine in other sciences show no wish to risk their reputations in this one, where everyone, however ignorant in all other matters, presumes to pronounce a decisive judgment, because in this realm there are still no reliable weights and measures for distinguishing sound work from shallow chatter.
Yet it is hardly unheard of that, after long work on a science, when people imagine how wonderfully far they have advanced, someone should at last think to ask whether and how such a science is possible at all. Human reason is so eager to build that it has repeatedly erected its tower, only to tear it down again afterward to see what its foundations might be like. It is never too late to become reasonable and wise; but when insight comes late, putting it to work is always harder.
To ask whether a science is even possible presupposes doubt about its actuality. Such doubt, however, offends anyone whose entire possessions may consist of this supposed jewel; and whoever lets such a doubt escape must be prepared for resistance from every side. Some, proudly conscious of their ancient—and therefore, they believe, rightful—possession, will look down on him with contempt, their metaphysical compendiums in hand. Others, who see nothing anywhere except what is identical with something they have already seen elsewhere, will not understand him. For a time everything will remain as though nothing had happened to make anyone fear or hope for an approaching change.
Nevertheless, I venture to predict that the reader of these prolegomena who thinks for himself will not merely doubt his previous science. He will eventually become entirely convinced that no such science can exist unless the requirements stated here, on which its possibility depends, are fulfilled; and since this has never yet happened, that there is as yet no metaphysics at all. Yet the demand for it can never disappear,257.1 because the interests of universal human reason are too intimately bound up with it. He will therefore acknowledge that a complete reform—or rather a new birth according to a plan wholly unknown until now—is inevitably approaching, however much people may resist it for a while.
Since the attempts of Locke and Leibniz, or rather since the origin of metaphysics as far back as its history reaches, nothing has happened that could have been more decisive for the fate of this science than David Hume’s attack on it. He brought no light to this kind of cognition, but he did strike a spark from which a light might well have been kindled, had it met receptive tinder whose glow was carefully tended and increased.
Hume began chiefly with a single but important concept of metaphysics, namely the connection of cause and effect (and thus also its derivative concepts of force and action, and so forth). He challenged reason, which claims to have brought this concept forth from its own womb, to account for the right by which it thinks that something can be so constituted that, once it is posited, something else must necessarily be posited through it as well; for this is what the concept of a cause says. He proved beyond dispute that reason is wholly incapable of thinking such a connection a priori and from concepts, since it contains necessity; yet there is simply no seeing why, because something is, something else must necessarily be as well, or how the concept of such a connection can therefore be introduced a priori. From this he concluded that reason is entirely deceived in this concept, falsely taking it for its own child when it is nothing but a bastard of the imagination: made pregnant by experience, the imagination has brought certain representations under the law of association and passed off the subjective necessity arising from this—that is, habit—as an objective necessity arising from insight. From this he concluded that reason has no capacity even to think such connections in general, since its concepts would then be mere inventions; and all its allegedly a priori cognitions would be nothing but ordinary experiences bearing a counterfeit stamp. This amounts to saying that there is no metaphysics at all, nor can there be any.258.1
However hasty and mistaken his conclusion, it was at least founded on an investigation; and that investigation well deserved the combined efforts of the able minds of his time to solve the problem, if possible more successfully, in the sense in which he presented it. A complete reform of the science would then soon have had to follow.
But the fate that has always been unkind to metaphysics decreed that no one should understand him. It is painful to see how completely his opponents—Reid, Oswald, Beattie, and finally Priestley—missed the point of his problem. They constantly took for granted precisely what he doubted, while vehemently and, for the most part, with great immodesty proving what he had never thought of doubting. They so misunderstood his hint toward improvement that everything remained as it had been, as though nothing had happened. The question was not whether the concept of a cause was correct, useful, and indispensable for the whole cognition of nature; Hume had never doubted this. It was whether this concept is thought a priori through reason and thus possesses an inner truth independent of all experience, and consequently a usefulness that may extend further and is not confined merely to objects of experience. This was the point on which Hume expected clarification. The issue was solely the origin of the concept, not its indispensability in use. Once the former had been established, the conditions of its use and the range within which it could be valid would have followed of themselves.
To do justice to the problem, however, the celebrated man’s opponents would have had to penetrate very deeply into the nature of reason insofar as it concerns itself solely with pure thinking, and this did not suit them. They therefore invented a more convenient means of defiance without any insight at all: an appeal to common sense. It is indeed a great gift of heaven to possess a sound—or, as it has recently been called, plain—human understanding. But one must prove it by deeds, by what is considered and reasonable in one’s thoughts and words, not by appealing to it as an oracle whenever one has nothing intelligent to offer in one’s defense. To appeal to common sense when insight and science run out, and not before, is one of the subtle inventions of modern times, allowing the most insipid chatterer confidently to confront the most thorough thinker and hold his own. Yet as long as even a small remnant of insight remains, one will take care not to resort to this expedient. Seen clearly, this appeal is nothing but an appeal to the judgment of the crowd: applause that makes the philosopher blush, while the popular wit triumphs and puts on a bold face. I should have thought, however, that Hume could claim a sound understanding just as well as Beattie, and something more that the latter certainly did not possess: a critical reason that keeps common understanding within bounds, preventing it from soaring into speculation or, where speculation alone is at issue, from claiming to decide anything, since it cannot justify its own principles. Only in this way will it remain a sound understanding. Chisel and mallet may serve very well for working a piece of timber, but copper engraving requires an etching needle. Sound understanding and speculative understanding are both useful, then, but each in its own way: the former when judgments find their immediate application in experience, the latter when judgments are to be made universally, from mere concepts—for example in metaphysics, where what calls itself sound understanding, often per antiphrasin, or by an opposite name, has no judgment whatever.
I freely confess: it was David Hume’s reminder that first, many years ago, interrupted my dogmatic slumber and gave my investigations in speculative philosophy an entirely different direction. I was far from accepting his conclusions, which arose only because he did not represent his problem to himself as a whole but struck upon just one part of it, a part that cannot provide an answer unless the whole is taken into account. If we begin with a well-founded though undeveloped thought left to us by another, continued reflection may give us hope of advancing further than the penetrating thinker to whom we owed the first spark of this light.
I therefore first tried to see whether Hume’s objection could be represented universally, and soon found that the concept of the connection of cause and effect was far from the only one through which the understanding thinks connections of things a priori; rather, metaphysics consists entirely of such concepts. I sought to ascertain their number, and when I had succeeded as I wished—namely, from a single principle—I proceeded to the deduction of these concepts, of which I was now certain that they were not derived from experience, as Hume had feared, but sprang from pure understanding. This deduction, which seemed impossible to my acute predecessor, and which no one but he had even thought of, although everyone confidently used these concepts without asking what grounded their objective validity—this, I say, was the most difficult undertaking that could ever have been attempted on behalf of metaphysics. Worst of all, metaphysics, whatever of it might exist anywhere, could not give me the slightest help, since that deduction must first establish the possibility of metaphysics. Once I had succeeded in solving Hume’s problem, not merely in one particular case but with respect to the entire faculty of pure reason, I could take secure, though still only slow, steps toward finally determining the whole extent of pure reason, both its boundaries and its content, completely and according to universal principles. This was precisely what metaphysics needed in order to construct its system according to a reliable plan.
But I fear that the development of Hume’s problem in its greatest possible extension—namely, the Critique of Pure Reason—may meet the same fate as the problem itself when it was first presented. People will judge it wrongly because they do not understand it; they will not understand it because they are inclined to leaf through the book, but not to think it through; and they will not wish to expend this effort because the work is dry, obscure, contrary to all their accustomed concepts, and lengthy besides. Now I confess that I did not expect to hear a philosopher complain of a lack of popular appeal, entertainment, and ease when the issue is the very existence of a celebrated cognition indispensable to humanity, which can be established only by the strictest rules of scholarly precision. Popular appeal may follow these in time, but must never come first. Yet the complaint about a certain obscurity is just: this arises in part from the breadth of the plan, which makes it difficult to survey the principal points on which the investigation turns. I shall remedy this through the present Prolegomena.
That work, which presents the faculty of pure reason in its entire extent and within its boundaries, nevertheless remains the foundation; the Prolegomena relate to it only as preliminary exercises. For that critique must stand as a science, systematic and complete down to its smallest parts, before anyone can think of bringing metaphysics forward, or even entertain a distant hope of it.
People have long been accustomed to seeing old, worn-out cognitions dressed up anew by removing them from their former connections and fitting them with a systematic costume, arbitrarily cut but bearing new titles; and most readers will expect nothing else from that critique in advance. These prolegomena, however, will lead them to see that it is an entirely new science, of which no one had previously formed even the thought, whose very idea was unknown, and for which nothing previously available could be used except the hint supplied by Hume’s doubts. He likewise had no inkling of such a possible formal science; to bring his ship to safety, he ran it onto the beach—skepticism—where it may lie and rot. My concern, by contrast, is to give it a pilot who, equipped with a complete sea chart and a compass, can steer the ship safely wherever he sees fit, according to reliable principles of navigation drawn from knowledge of the globe.
To approach a new science, entirely isolated and unique of its kind, with the prejudice that one can judge it by the supposed knowledge one has already acquired elsewhere—even though the reality of precisely that knowledge must first be called wholly into doubt—achieves nothing but the belief that one sees everywhere what one already knew, perhaps because the expressions sound similar. Everything must then appear utterly distorted, absurd, and gibberish, since one is taking as one’s basis not the author’s thoughts but always one’s own way of thinking, which long habit has made second nature. Yet the length of the work, insofar as it is grounded in the science itself rather than its presentation, together with its unavoidable dryness and scholastic precision, are qualities that may be exceedingly advantageous to the subject itself but must certainly be detrimental to the book.
Not everyone, admittedly, is gifted with the ability to write as subtly and yet as engagingly as David Hume, or as thoroughly and yet as elegantly as Moses Mendelssohn. But I could, I flatter myself, have given my presentation popular appeal had I been concerned merely to sketch a plan and commend its execution to others, and had the welfare of the science that occupied me so long not been close to my heart. Apart from that, it took much perseverance and no little self-denial to set aside the lure of an early, favorable reception for the prospect of an acceptance that, though late, would endure.
Making plans is often a lavish, boastful occupation of the mind, by which one gives oneself the air of creative genius: demanding what one cannot oneself accomplish, censuring what one cannot improve, and proposing what one does not oneself know where to find. Even a competent plan for a general critique of reason, however, would have required somewhat more than might be supposed, unless it was to become, as usual, a mere declamation of pious wishes. But pure reason is a sphere so separate, so thoroughly interconnected within itself, that no part of it can be touched without touching all the rest, and nothing can be accomplished without first determining each part’s place and its influence on the others. For there is nothing outside it that could correct our judgment within it, and so the validity and use of every part depend on its relation to the others within reason itself, just as in the structure of an organized body the purpose of each member can be derived only from the complete concept of the whole. We may therefore say of such a critique that it is never reliable unless it is whole and completed down to the least elements of pure reason, and that in the sphere of this faculty we must determine and establish either everything or nothing.
Although a mere plan preceding the Critique of Pure Reason would be unintelligible, unreliable, and useless, a plan following it is all the more useful. It enables us to survey the whole, examine separately the principal points on which this science turns, and arrange much in the presentation better than was possible in the first execution of the work.
Here, then, is such a plan after the completion of the work. It may now be laid out according to the analytic method, whereas the work itself had to be composed entirely according to the synthetic manner of exposition, so that the science would display all its articulations in their natural connection, as the structure of a quite distinctive faculty of cognition. Anyone who finds even this plan obscure, which I put forward as prolegomena to all future metaphysics, should consider that not everyone needs to study metaphysics; that many a talent thrives in rigorous and even profound sciences that lie closer to intuition, yet cannot succeed in investigations conducted through abstract concepts alone, and in that case must devote its powers of mind to another object; but that whoever undertakes to judge metaphysics, or indeed to compose one, must satisfy the demands made here in full, whether by accepting my solution or by thoroughly refuting it and putting another in its place—for he cannot dismiss them. Finally, he should consider that the much-decried obscurity—a customary cloak for one’s own indolence or shortsightedness—also has its use. All those who maintain a cautious silence about every other science speak with mastery and decide boldly on questions of metaphysics, because here their ignorance does not, to be sure, stand out clearly against the knowledge of others; but it does stand out against genuine critical principles, of which we may therefore boast:
ignavum, fucos, pecus a praesepibus arcent.
Virg.
They drive the drones, that idle herd, away from the hives.
257.1. Rusticus exspectat, dum defluat amnis; at ille Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum. Horat. The countryman waits for the river to finish flowing; but it flows and will flow, rolling on through all eternity.
258.1. Yet Hume himself called this very destructive philosophy metaphysics, and set a high value on it. “Metaphysics and morals,” he says (Essays, Part 4, page 214, German translation), “are the most important branches of science; mathematics and natural science are not worth half as much.” Here, however, this acute thinker saw only the negative benefit that moderating the excessive claims of speculative reason would have in putting a complete end to so many endless, persecuting disputes that trouble the human race. In doing so, he lost sight of the positive harm that results when reason is deprived of its most important prospects, which alone enable it to set before the will the highest goal of all its endeavors.
Plain English translation
Mouseia’s complete Plain English edition, made independently and directly from the same complete German text.
These Prolegomena are not for beginners. They are for future teachers, and even for them their purpose is not to organize the presentation of a science that already exists. Their purpose is to discover this science in the first place.
Some scholars take the history of philosophy, both ancient and modern, as their own philosophy. These Prolegomena are not written for them. They must wait until those who try to draw from the sources of reason itself have settled their business. Then it will be their turn to report to the world on what has happened. Otherwise, nothing can be said that, in their opinion, has not been said before. In fact, this may count as an unfailing prediction of everything to come. Over countless objects and many centuries, human understanding has indulged in so many kinds of speculation that it would be hard not to find something old that bears some resemblance to anything new.
My aim is to convince everyone who thinks metaphysics is worth working on that they absolutely must stop their work for now. They must treat everything done so far as if it had not been done, and first of all ask: is anything like metaphysics even possible at all?
If it is a science, why can it not win general and lasting acceptance, as other sciences can? If it is not a science, how does it keep boasting under the appearance of one and keeping human understanding waiting, with hopes that never die but are never fulfilled? Whether we demonstrate our knowledge or our lack of knowledge, something definite must finally be settled about the nature of this supposed science. It cannot possibly go on as it has. While every other science constantly advances, it seems almost ridiculous that this one—which claims to be wisdom itself, whose oracle everyone consults—should keep turning in the same place without taking a single step forward. Its followers, too, have greatly dwindled. We do not see people who feel strong enough to excel in other sciences willing to risk their reputations in this one. Here anyone who is ignorant in every other field claims the right to give a decisive judgment. For in this territory there is still no reliable measure or weight for telling thorough work from shallow talk.
Still, it is not unheard of that, after a science has been worked on for a long time, and people think they have made astonishing progress in it, someone should finally think to ask whether and how such a science is possible at all. Human reason is so eager to build that it has repeatedly put up its tower, then taken it down again to see what sort of foundation it might have. It is never too late to become reasonable and wise. But when insight comes late, it is always harder to put it into practice.
To ask whether a science is even possible assumes doubt about whether it actually exists. Such doubt offends anyone whose entire wealth may consist in this supposed jewel. So whoever lets this doubt slip should be prepared for resistance from all sides. Some, proudly aware of their old possession, and considering it rightful for that very reason, will look down on him with contempt, their metaphysical textbooks in hand. Others, who see nothing anywhere except what is identical with something they have seen somewhere before, will not understand him. And for a while everything will remain as though nothing had happened to make anyone fear or hope for a coming change.
Even so, I venture to predict that readers who think for themselves will not merely begin to doubt their previous science after reading these Prolegomena. They will eventually become fully convinced that no such science can exist unless the requirements stated here, on which its possibility rests, are met. And since that has never yet happened, they will be convinced that there is as yet no metaphysics at all. Yet demand for it can never disappear either,257.1 because the interests of universal human reason are so intimately bound up with it. Readers will therefore admit that a complete reform, or rather a new birth on a plan entirely unknown until now, is inevitably approaching, however much people may resist it for a while.
Since the attempts of Locke and Leibniz, or rather since metaphysics first arose, as far back as its history reaches, no event has occurred that could have been more decisive for this science's fate than David Hume's attack on it. He brought no light into this kind of cognition. But he did strike a spark from which a light might well have been kindled, if it had caught suitable tinder and its glow had been carefully kept alive and strengthened.
Hume started mainly from a single but important concept of metaphysics: the connection of cause and effect, and therefore also the resulting concepts of force, action, and so on. He challenged reason, which claims to have produced this concept from within itself, to explain by what right it thinks that something can be such that, once it is given, something else must necessarily be given through it. That is what the concept of cause says. He proved beyond dispute that reason cannot possibly think such a connection a priori, from concepts, because it contains necessity. We cannot see at all why, because one thing exists, something else must necessarily exist too, or how the concept of such a connection can be introduced a priori. From this he concluded that reason completely deceives itself with this concept. It wrongly takes the concept for its own child, when it is only an illegitimate child of the imagination. Made pregnant by experience, the imagination has brought certain representations under the law of association and passed off the resulting subjective necessity—that is, habit—as an objective necessity based on insight. He concluded that reason has no power even to think such connections in general, since its concepts would then be mere inventions. All its supposed a priori cognitions would be nothing but ordinary experiences falsely labeled. This amounts to saying that there is no metaphysics at all, nor can there be any.258.1
However hasty and mistaken his conclusion was, it was at least based on investigation. That investigation deserved to have the capable minds of his time join together to solve the problem more successfully, if possible, in the sense in which he presented it. A complete reform of the science would then soon have had to follow.
But fate, always unfavorable to metaphysics, saw to it that no one understood him. It is painful to see how completely his opponents—Reid, Oswald, Beattie, and finally Priestley—missed the point of his problem. They always took for granted just what he doubted, while vehemently and usually with great arrogance proving what it had never occurred to him to doubt. They so misunderstood his hint toward improvement that everything stayed as it was, as though nothing had happened. The question was not whether the concept of cause is correct, useful, and indispensable for all cognition of nature. Hume had never doubted that. The question was whether reason thinks it a priori and whether it therefore has an inner truth independent of all experience, and thus perhaps a wider usefulness not restricted merely to objects of experience. That is what Hume wanted explained. The only issue was the origin of this concept, not its indispensability in use. Once its origin had been established, the conditions of its use and the range within which it could be valid would have followed on their own.
To meet the problem, however, the famous man's opponents would have had to go very deeply into the nature of reason when it is occupied with pure thinking alone. That did not suit them. So they invented a more convenient way to act defiantly without any insight: an appeal to common sense. It is indeed a great gift from heaven to have sound—or, as it has recently been called, plain—common sense. But we must prove it by our actions, by the thoughtful and reasonable things we think and say, not by appealing to it as an oracle when we have nothing intelligent to say in our own defense. To appeal to common sense only when insight and science run out, and not before, is one of the subtle inventions of modern times. It lets the emptiest talker confidently take on the most thorough thinker and hold his own. But as long as a small remainder of insight survives, people will take care not to resort to this emergency measure. Looked at clearly, this appeal is nothing but an appeal to the crowd's judgment: applause at which the philosopher blushes, while the popular wit celebrates and acts defiantly. I should think that Hume had as much claim to sound understanding as Beattie, and also to something the latter certainly lacked: a critical reason that keeps ordinary understanding within bounds. It prevents ordinary understanding from getting carried away in speculation or, when speculation alone is at issue, from trying to decide anything, because it cannot justify its principles. Only in this way will it remain sound understanding. A chisel and mallet may serve perfectly well to work a piece of timber, but copper engraving requires an etching needle. In the same way, sound understanding and speculative understanding are both useful, but each in its own way. The first is useful for judgments that find their direct application in experience. The second is useful where judgments must be made in general from mere concepts, as in metaphysics. There, what calls itself sound understanding—often by a name that means the opposite of what it is—has no judgment at all.
I freely admit that David Hume's reminder was precisely what first interrupted my dogmatic sleep many years ago and gave my investigations in speculative philosophy an entirely different direction. I was far from accepting his conclusions. They arose only because he did not see his problem as a whole, but struck upon just one part of it, which cannot provide an answer without considering the whole. If we start from a well-grounded thought that someone else has left us, even though it was not developed, we may hope that continued reflection will take us further than the perceptive man to whom we owe the first spark of this light.
I first tried, then, to see whether Hume's objection could be stated in a general form. I soon found that the concept of the connection of cause and effect is far from the only one through which the understanding thinks connections between things a priori. Metaphysics consists entirely of such concepts. I tried to establish how many there were, and succeeded as I had hoped: from a single principle. I then set about the deduction of these concepts. I was now sure that they were not derived from experience, as Hume had feared, but arose from pure understanding. This deduction had seemed impossible to my perceptive predecessor. No one except him had even thought of it, although everyone confidently used the concepts without asking what grounded their objective validity. This, I say, was the hardest undertaking that could ever be attempted on behalf of metaphysics. Worst of all, metaphysics, however much of it existed anywhere, could not give me the slightest help in it, because that deduction must first establish the possibility of metaphysics. Once I had succeeded in solving Hume's problem, not merely in a particular case but with respect to the whole faculty of pure reason, I could take secure, though always slow, steps. In the end I could determine the whole range of pure reason completely, both its limits and its contents, according to general principles. That was what metaphysics needed in order to construct its system according to a reliable plan.
But I fear that the working out of Hume's problem in its widest possible scope—namely, the Critique of Pure Reason—may fare just as the problem itself did when it was first presented. People will judge it incorrectly because they do not understand it. They will not understand it because they want to leaf through the book but not think it through. And they will not want to spend that effort on it because the work is dry, obscure, contrary to all their familiar concepts, and also long. I admit that I did not expect to hear a philosopher complain about a lack of popular appeal, entertainment, and ease when the very existence of a celebrated cognition indispensable to humanity is at stake. Its existence can be established only by the strictest rules of precise scholarly method. Popular appeal may follow these in time, but must never come first. Still, the complaint about a certain obscurity is justified. It comes partly from the wide scope of the plan, which makes it difficult to survey the main points that matter in the investigation. I will remedy that complaint through these Prolegomena.
The other work, which presents the faculty of pure reason in its entire scope and limits, nevertheless remains the foundation. The Prolegomena refer to it only as preliminary exercises. For that critique must stand complete as a science, systematic down to its smallest parts, before we can even think of bringing metaphysics forward or entertain even a distant hope of it.
People have long been used to seeing old, worn-out cognitions dressed up as new. They are taken out of their earlier connections and fitted with a systematic outfit of some arbitrary cut, under new titles. Most readers will expect nothing else from that critique either. But these Prolegomena will lead them to see that it is an entirely new science. No one had previously conceived even the thought of it; its very idea was unknown. Nothing previously given could be used for it except the hint that Hume's doubts could provide. He too had no inkling that such a formal science was possible. To bring his ship to safety, he ran it aground on the beach—skepticism—where it can lie and rot. My concern instead is to give it a pilot who can guide it safely wherever he thinks best. Equipped with a complete sea chart and a compass, he follows reliable principles of navigation drawn from knowledge of the globe.
To approach a new science, entirely separate and the only one of its kind, with the prejudice that we can judge it through supposed knowledge acquired elsewhere achieves only one thing. We think we see everywhere what we already knew, perhaps because the expressions sound similar—even though the reality of just that supposed knowledge must first be thoroughly doubted. Everything must then seem terribly distorted, absurd, and unintelligible, because we take as our basis not the author's thoughts, but always our own way of thinking, which long habit has made second nature. Yet the length of the work, insofar as it belongs to the science itself rather than its presentation, and its unavoidable dryness and scholarly precision may be extremely advantageous to the subject itself while necessarily disadvantaging the book.
Not everyone has the gift of writing as subtly and yet as engagingly as David Hume, or as thoroughly and yet as elegantly as Moses Mendelssohn. Still, I flatter myself that I could have given my presentation popular appeal if my only concern had been to draw up a plan and urge others to carry it out. But I cared about the welfare of the science that had occupied me so long. Besides, it took great persistence and no small self-denial to set aside the attraction of an early favorable reception for the prospect of approval that would be late but lasting.
Making plans is often a self-indulgent and boastful activity of the mind. People give themselves the appearance of creative genius by demanding what they cannot themselves accomplish, criticizing what they cannot improve, and proposing something they do not themselves know where to find. Still, even a sound plan for a general critique of reason would have required more than one might suppose, if it was not to become merely the usual declaration of pious wishes. But pure reason is a sphere so separate, and so completely interconnected within itself, that we cannot touch one part without touching all the others. We can accomplish nothing without first determining each part's place and its influence on the others. Nothing outside this sphere can correct our judgment within it. So the validity and use of every part depend on its relation to the other parts within reason itself, just as in the structure of an organized body, the purpose of each member can be derived only from the complete concept of the whole. We can therefore say that such a critique is never reliable unless it is complete and finished down to the smallest elements of pure reason. In the sphere of this faculty, we must determine and settle either everything or nothing.
Admittedly, a mere plan preceding the Critique of Pure Reason would be unintelligible, unreliable, and useless. But it is all the more useful when it follows the Critique. It enables us to survey the whole, examine one by one the main points that matter in this science, and arrange some things better in the presentation than was possible in the first version of the work.
Here, then, is such a plan, after the completed work. It can now be organized according to the analytic method, whereas the work itself had to be written entirely according to the synthetic method. In that way the science could display all its joints in their natural connection, as the structure of a quite distinctive faculty of cognition. Anyone who finds this plan, which I offer as Prolegomena before any future metaphysics, obscure in its turn should consider the following. Not everyone needs to study metaphysics. Some talents do very well in thorough and even deep sciences that stay closer to intuition, but do not succeed in inquiries conducted entirely through abstract concepts. In that case, people must direct their mental gifts toward another subject. But anyone who undertakes to judge metaphysics, or even to write one, must fully meet the requirements made here. They may do so either by accepting my solution or by thoroughly refuting it and putting another in its place—for they cannot dismiss the requirements. Finally, the much-criticized obscurity, a usual cover for one's own laziness or poor vision, also has its use. People who maintain a cautious silence about all other sciences speak as masters and decide boldly on questions of metaphysics. Here their ignorance does not, of course, stand out clearly against others' knowledge. But it does stand out against genuine critical principles, which can therefore be praised in these words:
they keep the drones, that idle herd, away from the hives.
Virg.
257.1. The countryman waits for the river to finish flowing; but it flows and will keep flowing, rolling on forever. Horat.
258.1. Nevertheless, Hume himself called this very destructive philosophy metaphysics and valued it highly. “Metaphysics and morals,” he says (Versuche 4ter Theil, Seite 214, deutsche Übers.), “are the most important branches of science; mathematics and natural science are not worth half as much.” But this perceptive man was looking only at the negative benefit of moderating the exaggerated claims of speculative reason: completely ending the many endless and persecutory disputes that confuse humanity. In doing so, he lost sight of the positive harm that follows when reason is deprived of its most important prospects. Only through these can it set the highest goal for all the will's efforts.
About this section
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