导 读
— 001 —
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION, 1790
— 001 —
INTRODUCTION
— 007 —
I On the Division of Philosophy
— 007 —
II On the Domain of Philosophy in General
— 011 —
III On the Critique of Judgment as Mediating the Connection of the Two Parts of Philosophy to [Form] a Whole
— 015 —
IV On Judgment as a Power That Legislates A Priori
— 018 —
V The Principle of the Formal Purposiveness of Nature Is a Transcendental Principle of Judgment
— 021 —
VI On the Connection of the Feeling of Pleasure with the Concept of the Purposiveness of Nature
— 028 —
VII On the Aesthetic Presentation of the Purposiveness of Nature
— 031 —
VIII On the Logical Presentation of the Purposiveness of Nature
— 035 —
IX How Judgment Connects the Legislations of the Understanding and of Reason
— 038 —
Part I Critique of Aesthetic Judgment
— 043 —
Part II Critique of Teleological Judgment
— 233 —
First Introduction to the Critique of Judgment
— 397 —
术语汇编与简释
— 461 —
I
On the Division of Philosophy
Insofar as philosophy contains principles for the rational cognition of things through concepts (and not merely, as logic does, principles of the form of thought in general without distinction of objects), it is usually divided into theoretical and practical. That division is entirely correct, provided there is also a difference in kind between the concepts that assign to the principles of this rational cognition their respective objects: otherwise the concepts would not justify a division, since a division presupposes that the principles of the rational cognition pertaining to the different parts of a science are opposed to one another.
There are, however, only two kinds of concepts, which [thus] allow for two different principles concerning the possibility of their respective objects. These are the concepts of nature and the concept of freedom. Concepts of nature make possible a theoretical cognition governed by a priori principles, whereas the very concept of freedom carries with it, as far as nature is concerned, only a negative principle (namely, of mere opposition), but gives rise to expansive principles for the determination of the will, which are therefore called practical; hence we are right to divide philosophy into two parts that are quite different in their principles: theoretical or natural philosophy, and practical or moral philosophy (morality is the term we use for reason’s practical legislation governed by the concept of freedom). In the past, however, these terms have been badly misused for dividing the different principles and along with them philosophy. For no distinction was made between the practical governed by concepts of nature and the practical governed by the concept of freedom, with the result that the same terms, theoretical and practical philosophy, were used to make a division that in fact did not divide anything (since the two parts might have the same kind of principles).
For the will, as the power of desire, is one of the many natural causes in the world, namely, the one that acts in accordance with concepts; and whatever we think of as possible (or necessary) through a will we call practically possible (or necessary), as distinguished from the physical possibility or necessity of an effect whose cause is not determined to [exercise] its causality through concepts (but through mechanism, as in the case of lifeless matter, or through instinct, as in the case of animals). It is here, concerning the practical, that people leave it undetermined whether the concept that gives the rule to the will’s causality is a concept of nature or a concept of freedom.
Yet this distinction is essential. For if the concept that determines[the exercise of] the causality is a concept of nature, then the principles will be technically practical; but if it is a concept of freedom, then the principles will be morally practical. And since the division of a rational science [-wissenschaft] depends entirely on that difference between the respective objects which requires different principles for [their] cognition, the technically practical principles will belong to theoretical philosophy (natural science [-lehre]), while the morally practical ones alone will form the second part, practical philosophy (moral theory [-lehre]).
All technically practical rules (i.e., those of art and of skill in general, or for that matter of prudence, i.e., skill in influencing people’s volition), insofar as their principles rest on concepts, must be included only in theoretical philosophy, as corollaries. For they concern nothing but the possibility of things according to concepts of nature; and this includes not only the means we find in nature for producing them, but even the will (as power of desire and hence as a natural power), as far as it can be determined, in conformity with the mentioned rules, by natural incentives. However, such practical rules are not called laws (as are, e.g., physical laws), but only precepts. This is because the will is subject not merely to the concept of nature, but also to the concept of freedom; and it is in relation to the latter that the will’s principles are called laws. Only these latter principles, along with what follows from them, form the second, i.e., the practical, part of philosophy.
The point is this: Solving the problems of pure geometry does not belong to a special part of geometry, nor does the art of land surveying deserve the name of practical geometry (as distinct from pure), as a second part of geometry in general. But it would be equally wrong, even more so, to consider the art of experimentation or observation in mechanics or chemistry to be a practical part of natural science, or, finally, to include any of the following in practical philosophy, let alone regard them as constituting the second part of philosophy in general: domestic, agricultural, or political economy, the art of social relations, the precepts of hygiene, or even the general theory [Lehre] of [how to attain] happiness, indeed not even—with that goal in mind—the taming of our inclinations and the subjugation of our affects. For all of these arts contain only rules of skill, which are therefore only technically practical, for producing an effect that is possible according to concepts of nature about causes and effects; and since these concepts belong to theoretical philosophy, they are subject to those precepts as mere corollaries of theoretical philosophy (i.e., of natural science), and so cannot claim a place in a special [the exercise of] the causality is a concept of nature, then the principles will be technically practical; but if it is a concept of freedom, then the principles will be morally practical. And since the division of a rational science [philosophy called practical. Morally practical precepts, on the other hand, which are based entirely on the concept of freedom, all natural bases determining the will being excluded, form a very special kind of precepts. Just as the rules that nature obeys are called laws simply, so too are these; but, unlike laws of nature, practical laws do not rest on sensible conditions but rest on a supersensible principle; [hence] they require just for themselves another part of philosophy, alongside the theoretical one, to be called practical philosophy.
What the above shows is that a set of practical precepts provided by philosophy cannot form a special part of philosophy, placed alongside the theoretical part, merely because they are practical; for they could be practical even if their principles (as technically practical rules) were taken entirely from our theoretical cognition of nature. Rather, they form such a special part when and if their principle is in no way borrowed from the concept of nature, which is always conditioned by the sensible, but rests on the supersensible that the concept of freedom alone enables us to know [kennbar] through formal laws, so that these precepts are morally practical, i.e., they are not just precepts and rules for achieving this or that intention, but are laws that do not refer to any purposes or intentions we already have.