Of the Aesthetic Estimation

of Magnitude
by
Friedrich Schiller
(1793)
Translated by Susan Johnson
Schiller wrote this essay in 1793. Its significance lies
in its opposition to Immanuel Kant, the hegemonic
philospher of the time , who denied any connection
between beauty and science. In this essay, Schiller
demonstrates the coherence of beauty and
mathematical science, in particular. In so refuting
Kant's conception of beauty as subecti!e, Schiller
created the conceptual basis for the ad!ances later
made in mathematical physics by "erman scientists
#ernhard $iemann and "eorg %antor.
I can form four mental images, quite different from one
another, of the quantity of an object. The toer hich I
see before me, is a magnitude.
It is !"" ells high.
It is high.
It is a high (sublime) object.
It is stri#ing, that something quite different is
e$%ressed in each of these four judgments, all of
hich, hoe&er, refer to the quantitati&e nature of the
toer. In the first to judgments, the toer is regarded
sim%ly as a quantum (as a magnitude), in the to
remaining ones as a magnum (as something large).
'&erything hich has %arts, is a quantum. '&ery
%erce%tion, e&ery idea formed by com%rehension, has
a magnitude, just as the latter has a domain and the
former a content. (uantity in general, therefore,
cannot be meant, if one s%ea#s about a difference of
magnitude among objects. )ere e s%ea# about such
a quantity as characteristically belongs to an object,
that is to say, that hich is not sim%ly a &uantum, but
is at the same time a magnum.
*i&en any magnitude, one thin#s of a unit to hich
&arious %arts of the same #ind are conjoined. Thus, if
to magnitudes differ, it can only be because in one of
them more %arts are conjoined in the unit, in the other
feer, or, that the one constitutes merely a %art of the
other. That quantum hich contains in itself another
quantum as a %art, is, ith res%ect to the latter
quantum, a magnum.
To in&estigate ho many times a certain s%ecific
quantum is contained in another, is to measure that
quantum (if it is continuous), or to count it (if it is not
continuous). +hat e ta#e as a unit of measure each
time de%ends u%on hether e are to consider an
object as a magnum, that is to say, all magnitude is a
relati&e conce%t, an idea of %ro%ortion.
)eld u% against its on measure, e&ery magnitude is a
magnum, and still more so, held u% against the
measure of its on measure, com%ared ith hich its
on measure is itself again a magnum. ,ut, just as the
%rocess descends, it also ascends. '&ery magnum is
small in turn, as soon as e thin# it contained in
another, and here is there a limit, since e can once
more multi%ly any number series, hoe&er large, ith
itself-
,y means of measurement, thus e indeed arri&e at
the comparati!e, but ne&er at the absolute magnitude,
at that, to it, hich cannot be included in any other
quantum, but subsumes all other magnitudes. .othing,
of course, ould hinder the same action of the mind
hich %ro&ided us ith such a magnitude, from
%ro&iding us ith its double, for the mind %roceeds
successi&ely, and, guided by ideas of number, can
continue its synthesis into infinity. /o long as it is still
%ossible to determine ho large an object may be, the
object is still not (sim%ly) large, and can, through the
same o%eration of com%arison, be diminished into
something &ery small. 0ccordingly, there could e$ist in
.ature only one single magnitude per e'cellentiam, to
it, the infinite totality of .ature herself, to hich,
hoe&er, no one %erce%tion e&er corres%onds, and
hose synthesis cannot be com%leted in any s%an of
time. 1or, since the realm of numbers can ne&er be
e$hausted, it ould ha&e to be the mind hich brings
its synthesis to a conclusion. The mind itself ould
ha&e to establish or create some unit as the highest
and ma$imum measure, and hate&er e$ceeds that,
sim%ly define it to be large.
This also ha%%ens in %ractice, hen I say of the toer
hich stands before me, it is high, ithout determining
its height. I gi&e no measure of com%arison here, and
yet I cannot ascribe absolute magnitude to the toer,
since nothing at all %re&ents me from assuming it to be
still larger. /im%ly by loo#ing at the toer, therefore, a
ma$imum measure must already be gi&en to me, and I
must be able to %resume, that by saying this tower is
high, that I ha&e %rescribed this ma$imum measure to
e&ery other obser&er as ell. This measure, therefore,
already lies in the idea of a toer, and it is nothing
other than the idea of its species(magnitude. 0 certain
ma$imum magnitude is %rescribed to e&ery thing,
either through its species (if it is a or# of nature), or
(if it is a or# of freedom) through the constraints
arising from its underlying cause and %ur%ose. +e
em%loy this measure of magnitude, more or less
consciously, in e&ery obser&ation of objects2 but our
%erce%tions are &ery different, de%ending u%on
hether the measure e a%%ly is more fortuitous or
more necessary. If an object e$ceeds the idea of its
s%ecies3magnitude, it ill, to a certain degree, %ut us
into a state of bewilderment. +e ill be sur%rised, and
our e$%erience e$%ands, but insofar as e ta#e no
interest in the object itself, hat remains is sim%ly a
feeling, that the magnitude hich e e$%ected has
been e$ceeded. +e ha&e deri&ed this measure merely
from a series of em%irical e$%eriences, and there is no
necessity hate&er at hand that it must alays fit. If,
on the other hand, a %roduct of freedom e$ceeds the
idea hich e established for oursel&es about the
constraints of its cause, e ill no doubt feel a certain
sense of admiration. +hat startles us in such an
e$%erience is not merely the e$ceeded e$%ectation, it
is at the same time that the constraints ha&e been cast
off. There, in the earlier case, our attention sim%ly
remained on the product, hich as of indifferent
concern in itself2 here, our attention is dran toard
the generati!e force, hich is moral, or is at least
associated ith a moral being, and as such it must
necessarily interest us. This interest ill increase just
to that degree, that the force constituting the acti&e
%rinci%le is the more noble or more eighty, and the
constraint hich e find e$ceeded is the more difficult
to o&ercome. 0 horse of uncommon si4e ill %leasantly
sur%rise us, but still more the ade%t and %oerful rider
ho tames him. If e no see him lea% ith this horse
o&er a ide, dee% gully, e are astonished, and if it is
an enemy front hich e see him charge, res%ect
shall join ith this astonishment, and turn into
admiration. In this latter case, e treat his action as a
dynamic magnitude, and a%%ly our idea of human
&alor as a metric, here it is no a question of ho e
are conscious of our on orth and hat e consider
the ma$imum limit of courage.
Things are totally different, if the idea of the magnitude
of the %ur%ose is e$ceeded. )ere e em%loy no
em%irical and fortuitous metric as the basis, but, on the
contrary, a rational and thus necessary one, one hich
cannot be e$ceeded ithout negating the %ur%ose of
the object. The magnitude of a house is solely
determined by its %ur%ose2 the magnitude of a toer
can be determined merely by the constraints of
architecture. )ence, should I find the house too large
for its %ur%ose, it must necessarily dis%lease me.
/hould I, on the other hand, find that the toer
e$ceeds my idea of a toer5s height, it ill but delight
me all the more. +hy- The one is a contradiction, the
other only an une$%ected accordance ith hat I
see#. I can still reconcile myself here a constraint is
rela$ed, but not here an intention is not carried out.
If, no, I merely say of an object, it is large, ithout
adding how large it is, I am not at all thereby
%roclaiming it to be something absolutely large, to
hich no metric can measure u%2 I am sim%ly saying
nothing about the measure to hich I subject it, on the
assum%tion, that it is already contained in the mere
idea of it. I do not determine its magnitude com%letely
in contrast to all other things concei&able, but I do so
%artially, and ith res%ect to a certain class of things,
yet, therefore, alays objecti&ely and logically,
because I affirm a %ro%ortional relationshi%, and
%roceed according to an idea.
This idea, hoe&er, can be em%irical, and therefore
contingent, and my judgment in this case ill ha&e
only subjecti&e &alidity. I %erha%s ma#e into the
s%ecies3magnitude, that hich is only magnitude of a
certain #ind2 %erha%s I see an objecti&e limit in hat is
but my subjecti&e limitation2 %erha%s I smuggle my
%ri&ate idea of the use and %ur%ose of the thing into
my judgment. 0s regards substance, my estimate of
magnitude can thus be quite subjecti&e, although in
res%ect of form, it is objecti&e, i.e., an actual
determination of %ro%ortions. The 'uro%ean ta#es the
6atagonian to be a giant, and his judgment is entirely
&alid among that stoc# of %eo%le from hom he
deri&es his conce%t of human magnitude2 in
6atagonia, hoe&er, he ill find disagreement.
.ohere does the influence of subjecti&e %rinci%les on
men5s judgment become more a%%arent, than in their
estimation of si4e regarding cor%oreal as ell as
incor%oreal things. '&eryone, one may assume, has a
certain measure for strength and &irtue ithin himself,
the hich guides his estimation of the magnitude of
moral acts. The miser ill loo# u%on the donation of a
guilder as a &ery large strain on his generosity, hile
the generous man belie&es threefold the sum is too
little to gi&e. The man of common stam% celebrates his
lac# of criminality as a great %roof of his honesty2
another of fine sensibility may sometimes scru%le o&er
hether to ta#e a legitimate %rofit.
0lthough in all these cases, the measure is subjecti&e,
the act of measuring is itself alays objecti&e2 for one
need only generali4e the measure, and a general
standard of magnitude ill be introduced. This is
actually the case ith the objecti&e measures hich
are in general use, e&en though they all ha&e a
subjecti&e origin and are deri&ed from the human
body.
0ll com%arati&e estimation of magnitude, hoe&er, be
it abstract or %hysical, be it holly or only %artly
determinant, leads only to relati&e, and ne&er to
absolute magnitude2 for if an object actually e$ceeds
the measure hich e assume to be a ma$imum, it
can still alays be as#ed, by ho many times the
measure is e$ceeded. It is certainly a large thing in
relation to its s%ecies, but yet not the largest %ossible,
and once the constraint is e$ceeded, it can be
e$ceeded again and again, into infinity. .o, hoe&er,
e are see#ing absolute magnitude, for this alone can
contain in itself the basis of a higher order, since all
relati&e magnitudes, as such, are li#e to one another.
/ince nothing can com%el our mind to halt its
business, it must be the mind5s %oer of imagination
hich sets a limit for that acti&ity. In other ords, the
estimation of magnitude must cease to be logical, it
must be achie&ed aesthetically.
If I estimate a magnitude in a logical fashion, I alays
relate it to my cogniti&e faculty2 if I estimate it
aesthetically, I relate it to my faculty of sensibility. In
the first case, I e$%erience something about the object,
in the second case, on the contrary, I only e$%erience
something ithin me, caused by the imagined
magnitude of the object. In the first case I behold
something outside myself, in the second, something
ithin me. Thus, in reality, I am no longer measuring, I
am no longer estimating magnitude, rather I myself
become for the moment a magnitude to myself, and
indeed an infinite one. That object hich causes me to
be an infinite magnitude to myself, is called sublime.
The %oer of imagination, as the s%ontaneity of
emotion, accom%lishes a tofold business in
conce%tuali4ing magnitude. It first gathers e&ery %art of
the gi&en quantum into an em%irical consciousness,
hich is apprehension2 secondly, it assembles the
successi!ely collected %arts into a %ure self3
consciousness, in hich latter business, that of
comprehension, it acts entirely as %ure understanding.
The conce%t of my 7I8 (em%irical consciousness), in
other ords, combines ith each %art of the quantum2
and through reflection u%on these successi&ely
%erformed syntheses, I recogni4e the identity of my 7I8
(%ure self3consciousness) in this series as a hole2 in
this ay, the quantum first becomes an object for me. I
lin# 0 to ,, and , to 9, and so forth, and hile I atch
my acti&ity, as it ere, I say to myself: in 0, as ell as
in ,, and in 9, I am the acting subject.
0%%rehension ta#es %lace successi!ely, and I gras%
each %artial conce%tion after the other. /ince, after
e&ery moment in time, another constantly follos, and
so forth into infinity, there is no danger in this
%rocedure, that I ould not be able to bring e&en the
quantum ith the highest numerical &alue to
com%letion. /im%ly gi&e me time, and there is no
number, in a%%rehension, hich shall e$ceed my
reach. The synthesis, hoe&er, ta#es %lace
simultaneously, and through the conce%t of the self3
identity of my 7I8 in all %receding syntheses, I
transcend ane the tem%oral conditions under hich
they had occurred. 0ll those different em%irical
conce%tions held by my 7I8 lose themsel&es in the
single %ure self3consciousness: the /ubject, hich had
acted in 0, and ,, and 9, and so forth, is I, the
eternally identical self.
1or this second act, that is to say, for the reduction of
different em%irical a%%erce%tions into %ure self3
consciousness, it is no absolutely not a matter of
indifference, ho many such em%irical a%%erce%tions
are to be resol&ed into %ure self3consciousness.
'$%erience at least teaches us, that the %oer of
imagination has a limit here, hoe&er difficult it may be
to find out its necessary ground. This limit may differ
for different %ersons, and can %erha%s be e$tended by
deliberate %ractice and energetic effort, but it can
ne&er be dissol&ed. If the %oer of reflection
transgresses this limit, and see#s to bring together
mental images, hich already lie beyond the limit, into
one unity of self3consciousness, it ill lose as much in
clarity as it gains in sco%e. ,eteen the circumference
of the entirety of a mental image and the distinctness
of its %arts, is an e&er insu%erable, s%ecific
relationshi%, herefore in each addition of a large
quantum e lose as much bac#ards as e gain
forards, and hen e ha&e reached the end3%oint,
e see the starting3%oint &anish.
That number of mental images ith hich the
distinctness of the indi&idual %arts can still %erfectly
subsist, ould thus be the ma$imum of the human
%oer of com%rehension. This ma$iumum can be
e$ceeded, and indeed &ery considerably so, but each
time at the cost of distinctness2 and to the
disad&antage of the mind, hich must rigorously
de%end u%on that distinctness. 1eer than three this
number cannot truly be, for the original act of
com%arison u%on hich all determinate, %recise
thin#ing is based, ma#es this three3ness necessary.
+hether this number may be greater than three may
be doubted, and e$%erience at least %ro&ides nothing
by means of hich it could be %ro&en. 0nd so certainly
the number three may be called the holy number, for
through it our orbit of thought ould be determined.
The aesthetic measure is directed according to this
logical base3measure, as ell, in the estimation of
magnitude, the hich, to be sure, cannot be
understood so narroly. It is agreed, at least, that e
are able to ta#e in and distinguish more than three
units at a time, although the further e enlarge the
summation, the more the clarity decreases. ;et since,
in the estimation of magnitude, all %arts are ta#en to
be of the same #ind, here the requirement for clarity is
somehat less rigorous. +e may %erha%s %ercei&e
tenty %ersons at one glance, but to recogni4e more
than three among them at one instant ill be difficult.
*enerally, here e must ta#e heed, that e do not
ta#e as simultaneous, that hich is sim%ly a ra%id
succession. The ra%idity ith hich the mind ma#es
nine out of three3times3three, no longer allos us to
distinguish hether these nine units a%%ear to us all at
once, or in a succession of three moments. +e often
fancy, that e gras% ith our senses, hen e but
com%rehend ith our mind. +e need but only ma#e
the e$%eriment, hether that hich e ta#e in all at
once ith a ra%id ordering ma#es the same effect
hen it is in disorder. 9lassification and order can only
aid the mind, ne&er the %oer of imagination2 thus
hat e easily ta#e in under the foregoing condition,
e ha&e not %ercei&ed at one stro#e, but counted or
measured.
This ma$iumum of com%rehension, determined by the
constraints of our subjecti&ity, go&erns us in all
estimation of magnitude, also the mathematical, as the
ultimate base3measure. /ince each magnitude is only
determinable by means of com%arison, the mind,
ithout such a ma$imum base3measure, ould lac# a
fi$ed %oint of reference on hich, by necessity, it must
ultimately rest in order to be able to distinguish any
magnitude at all. .o, e&ery quantum in .ature ill be
estimated according to this subjecti&e base3measure,
and the sameness of this measure in all human beings
is the sole cause of hy men5s judgment about
magnitude can agree. +ere this base3measure to be
e$%anded, all objects, at least aesthetically
considered, ould mo&e into a different relationshi% to
us2 calculations hich no %roceed only discursi&ely
according to conce%ts, ould be the or# of a glance2
and objects hich no mo&e us by their sublimity,
ould shed their entire enchantment and &anish into
the common ran#.
<et us assume for the moment, that this ma$imum of
sensuous com%rehension is ten. The %oer of
imagination can thus gras% ten units in one, ithout
missing a single unit. .o, hoe&er, let a gi&en
magnitude contain a thousand such units, and the
entire thousand is to be absorbed by consciousness.
To a%%rehend the quantum, i.e., to ta#e each of these
thousand units indi&idually into consciousness, is not
difficult at all, for nothing but time is required2 but to
com%rehend the quantum, i.e., to recogni4e the
consciousness stren into all these thousand mental
images of units as self3identical, to gras% a thousand
different a%%erce%tions in a single one, that is the
difficult tas# to be sol&ed. .o there is no other ay
out, but to reduce these thousand units to ten, for ten
is the highest unit hich the %oer of imagination can
ta#e in all together.
,ut ho can a thousand units be re%resented by ten-
= In no other ay than through conce%ts, hich are
the unique and in&ariant re%resentati&es of
%erce%tions. The %oer of imagination thus
relinquishes its intuiti&e business, and the mind begins
its discursi&e (here, actually symbolic) or#. .umber
must assist here %erce%tion no longer suffices, and
thought must subdue, here the eye5s &ision can no
longer become master.
1rom those ten units, hich are the ma$imum of
sensuous com%rehension, the mind forms a ne
logical unit, the number3conce%t 1". .o, hoe&er, the
%oer of imagination can, as e assume, com%rehend
ten units at the same time2 e&ery number3conce%t 1",
thought of as a unit, can thus, ta#en ten times, fuse
together in one intuition of the %oer of imagination.
0dmittedly, these logical units formed by the mind are
a%%ro%riated in this second act of com%rehension not
as multi%les but as units, and the ten units, hich each
contains, are no longer seen as indi&iduals. 0ll that is
accounted is the conce%t sim%ly as re%resentati&e,
and hat is re%resented loses itself in dar#ness or
disa%%ears. These ten logical units are no
com%ressed by the mind into a ne unit, the number
1"", hich, re%eated 1" times, can once more be
concei&ed at a single stro#e by the %oer of
imagination, %roducing the number 1,""", hich fully
%ro&ides the measure of the gi&en quantum. In this
third act of com%rehension, those original units must
still be e$tinguished far more, because their immediate
re%resentati&es, the number3conce%ts 1", ha&e
become re%resented by others, and themsel&es ha&e
&anished into dar#ness.
Throughout this o%eration, the %oer of imagination
has in no ay enlarged the sco%e of its
com%rehension, and it as alays just the same
quantum of 1" units hich ho&ered before it at any
one %oint in time. ;et, by &irtue of the fact, that the
mind, in three successi&e o%erations, re%laced those
sensuous units ith logical ones, and constantly
brought the latter under the say of other, higher
logical units, the mind subdued for the %oer of
imagination the hole quantum of that 1,""", and in
this fashion concealed her aesthetic im%o&erishment
from her in a logical %rofusion.
.e&ertheless, in order to #no, that one is not
counting ten, but a thousand, and that each of the last
ten units contains ithin it a hundred others, the
mind5s s%irit must quic#ly recall the %receding
synthesis through hich it %roduced these units. 0t
least a dim intuition of the content of the number3
conce%ts must accom%any the ongoing synthesis, as
anyone ho has atched himself ma#ing calculations
can obser&e in himself. >nly it cannot but come to
%ass, that the more the number3conce%ts increase, the
more logical the o%erations of the mind5s s%irit
constantly become, and clarity of %erce%tion must fade
aay2 from this it also follos, that the highest
number3conce%ts ultimately tell us far less than the
loer ones, for e still associate a content ith the
latter. In order to be mo&ed by the conce%t of a million
%ieces of gold, one must at least dimly recall ho large
a content already lies in the number thousand, and
ho many smaller coins a single gold3%iece contains.
0 regiment of !,""" men, stationed along a broad
front, three men dee%=let us quic#ly form a mental
image of its magnitude. To facilitate the act of
%erce%tion, I shall assume, that they are all arranged
in grou%s of 1". <et a small segment ,8a8 stand for
e&ery 1", and a larger one, 7aa,8 for e&ery 1"", and
our eyes shall sur&ey the entire length of the front. The
first segment, u% to 7a,8 e shall thus ta#e in,
according to our %re&ious assum%tion, in one
simultaneous glance, herein each indi&idual man can
still be distinguished. This segment is no at the same
time a unit for the reflecting mind2 and hen our ga4e
has %assed o&er 1" such segments, and the %oer of
imagination has accom%lished her act of
com%rehension ten times successi&ely, the mind
attem%ts once more to reali4e for itself the identity of
consciousness in these ten acts of com%rehension,
i.e., to ma#e from these ten logical units a ne unit.
The mind succeeds in this, too, but at the cost of the
first intuition, hich conceals its %arts, in the same
%ro%ortion as it transforms itself into a %art of another
hole. 0s the successi&e acts of com%rehension are
made simultaneous by means of the reflecting mind,
so the simultaneous intuitions of the %oer of
imagination lose their clarity, and no a%%ear before
the soul sim%ly as masses. If this synthesis is no
brought to a still higher le&el, and ne units are again
generated out of the ones already %roduced, the
indi&idual entity disa%%ears altogether, and the entire
front sim%ly melts into a continuous length, in hich it
is im%ossible to distinguish a segment, much less a
%articular head. It follos from this, that the clarity of
intuition alays remains confined only in a s%ecific
number2 that for all discursi&e %rogression on the %art
of the mind, the %oer of imagination ne&er e$%ands
its real ealth (as far as the simultaneity of %erce%tion
is concerned)2 and that, e&en if the %rocess of
calculation goes into the millions, only a s%ecific
number contained therein ill alays be the go&erning
number in hich the others, as it ere, are
submerged. .o, if one ishes to obtain an aesthetic
im%ression of a large quantum, one must try to quic#ly
reconstitute the original units out of the conce%t
re%resenting them, hich, e.g., in the %receding case,
ill occur hen one tries to constantly #ee% the first
segment in mind, hile loo#ing don at the entire
front.
,ut it is %recisely here, in this attem%t of the %oer of
imagination to restore the sensuousness of the mental
image out of the logical re%resentation %ro&ided by
number3conce%ts, and so to gras% length ith breadth,
simultaneity ith succession in one intuiti&e act, that
the limit of this ability comes to light2 yet, at the same
time, so does the strength of another ca%acity, through
hich latter disco&ery that lac# ill be more than
recom%ensed.
?eason insists, in accordance ith its necessary las,
u%on absolute totality of %erce%tion, and ithout letting
itself be rebuffed by the necessary limitation of the
%oer of imagination, the mind requires from it a
com%lete summation of all the %arts of a gi&en
quantum in one simultaneous mental image. The
%oer of imagination is thus com%elled to e$haust the
entire sco%e of its com%rehensi&e ca%acities, but
because it ne&ertheless does not com%lete this tas# to
the end, and, all e$ertions notithstanding, cannot
e$tend its sco%e, the %oer of imagination sin#s bac#
into itself e$hausted, and sensuous man e$%eriences
ith %ainful disquiet his limitations.
,ut is it an e$ternal force, hich gi&es him this
e$%erience of his limitations- Is it the fault of the
measureless ocean, or the infinite star3son hea&en,
that I become self3conscious of my im%otence hile
re%resenting their greatness- +hence, in that e&ent,
do I #no, that their greatness e$ceeds the reach of
my re%resentation, and that I can obtain no totality of
their image- @o I, indeed, #no of these objects, that
they are su%%osed to constitute a totality of a mental
image-=I could only #no this by &irtue of my mental
image of them, and in no other ay, and yet it is
%resu%%osed, that I cannot imagine them as a totality.
They are thus not %resented to me as a totality, and I
myself am the &ery one, ho first %ut the conce%t of
totality into them. I thus already ha&e this idea in me,
and I myself, the thin#ing being, am the &ery one, by
hich I, the being ho ma#es re%resentations of
images of the intellect, am &anquished. In
contem%lating these great objects, I indeed e$%erience
my powerlessness, but I e$%erience it through my
strength. I am not &anquished by .ature, I am
!an&uished by mine own self.
In anting to com%rehend all indi&idual %arts of an
a%%rehended quantum, hat do I actually ant to do-
I ant to recogni4e the identity of my self3
consciousness in all the %artial conce%tions, I ant to
find myself in e&erything. I ant to say to myself: 70ll
these %arts ha&e become concei&ed through me, the
eternally self3same subject.8 >ne must remember, that
?eason alays requires the com%rehension of only
those %arts hich are already a%%rehended, thus
already %resented in em%irical consciousness2 for a
magnitude only begins to affect me, if I ha&e scanned
it ith my %oer of imagination, thus a%%rehending its
%arts, yet cannot entirely com%rehend it.
Thus I ant to dissol&e images of the intellect, hich I
already ha&e, into a single one, and cannot do it, and I
am %ained, that I cannot. ,ut in order to e$%erience,
that I cannot fulfill a requirement, I must at once ha&e
the idea of this requirement and that of my inca%acity.
,ut this requirement is %resent: totality of the %arts in
the act of com%rehension, or unity of my 7I8 in a certain
series of transformations of my 7I.8 Thus I must only
imagine, that I cannot generate in consciousness a
mental image of the unity of my 7I8 in all these
transformations2 but %recisely in so doing I do %roduce
this idea. 6recisely in so doing, I thin# the totality of the
hole series, and that I want to thin# it, for I can ant
nothing of hich I do not already ha&e an idea. I thus
already bear ithin myself this totality hich I see# to
re%resent, just because I see# to re%resent it.
*reatness, therefore, is in me, not outside me. It is my
eternally self3same /ubject, %ersistent through e&ery
change, finding itself once more in e&ery
transformation. I can continue the act of a%%rehending
into infinity: this means nothing else, than that, in
endless transformations of my consciousness, my
consciousness is self3identical, the entire infinity lies in
the unity of my 7I.8
This solution can be e$%ressed in another formulation.
In all ideas about objects, including magnitude, the
mind5s s%irit is ne&er sim%ly hat is determined, rather
it is at the same time alays hat determines. It is
indeed the object hich changes me, but I, the
concei&ing /ubject, am hat ma#es the object into an
object, and through its generation, changes itself. In all
these transformations, hoe&er, there must be
something hich does not change, and this eternally
immutable principium is %recisely the %ure and self3
identical 7I,8 the ground of the %ossibility of all objects,
in so far as they become re%resented to the intellect.
+hate&er of greatness lies in the idea, lies in us, ho
bring forth these ideas. +hate&er la may be gi&en to
us for our thoughts and actions, it is gi&en us by us2
and e&en if, as sensuously constrained beings, e
must lea&e unfulfilled, as e do, the la of totality here
in the theoretical realm in the %ortrayal of magnitude,
or hen, as free beings endoed ith ill, e brea#
the la, as e do the moral la in the %ractical realm,
still it is alays we ho ha&e established the la. I
may thus lose myself in the di44ying idea of
omni%resent s%ace, or ne&er3ending time, or I may feel
my on nothingness in the idea of absolute %erfection
=it is after all only I, myself, ho gi&es s%ace its
infinite breadth, and time its eternal length, it is I,
myself, ho bear ithin me the idea of the )oly of
)olies, for I create them2 and the *odhead, hich I
concei&e, is my creation, so surely as my thought is
my on.
The sublimity of the magnitude is therefore no
objecti&e %ro%erty of the object to hich it is attributed2
it is %urely the effect of our on subjecti&ity,
occasioned by that object. It arises in one %art out of
the imagined inca%acity of the %oer of imagination of
the mind to achie&e the totality demanded by ?eason
in %ortraying magnitude, %artly again from the
imagined ca%ability of ?eason to ma#e such a
demand. >n the first is based the re%ulsi&e, on the
second the attracti&e %oer of great magnitude and of
the /ensuous3Infinite.
0lthough the sublime is a %henomenon hich is first
%roduced in our subjecti&ity, yet the object itself must
contain the reason hy only this object and no other
gi&es us occasion to ma#e this use of it. 0nd since,
furthermore, e %osit the %redicate of the sublime in
our judgment into the obect (by hich e indicate,
that e do not sim%ly resol&e u%on this connection
arbitrarily, but rather thereby intend to establish a la
for e&eryone), so our subjecti&ity must contain a
necessary reason hy e ma#e %recisely this use of a
certain class of objects, and no other.
There e$ist accordingly internal and e'ternal
necessary conditions of the mathematical3sublime. To
the former belongs a certain s%ecific relationshi%
beteen the mind and the %oer of imagination, to the
latter a s%ecific relationshi% of the %ercei&ed object to
our aesthetic measure of magnitude.
The %oer of imagination as ell as ?eason must
e$%ress themsel&es ith a certain degree of intensity if
something of great magnitude is to affect us. It is
required of the %oer of imagination, that it summon
u% all its resources of com%rehension to set forth the
re%resentation of the 0bsolute, toard hich ?eason
unremittingly %resses. If the imagination is sluggish
and dull, or if the emoti&e tendency of one5s mind is
more toard conce%tual formulations than intuiti&e
&ision, e&en the most sublime thing remains merely a
logical object, and ill not be brought before the
aesthetic tribunal at all. This is the reason, hy those
ith o&erbearing intensity of analytical understanding
seldom %ro&e to be &ery rece%ti&e to that hich is
aesthetically great. 'ither their %oer of imagination is
not li&ely enough to so much as &enture toard the
re%resentation of ?eason5s 0bsolute, or their mind too
%reoccu%ied to a%%ro%riate the object itself, and %lay it
o&er from the field of intuition onto the mind5s
discursi&e terrain.
+ithout a certain intensity of imagination, great objects
do not become aesthetic at all2 ithout a certain
strength of ?eason, on the other hand, that hich is
aesthetic does not become sublime. The idea of the
0bsolute certainly requires a more than ordinary
de&elo%ment of the higher faculty of ?eason, a certain
richness of ideas, and a more rigorous acquaintance
on the %art of the indi&idual ith his noblest self. )e
hose ?eason has undergone no culti&ation at all, ill
ne&er #no ho to ma#e a su%ra3sensual use of the
grandness of the senses. ?eason ill not become
in&ol&ed in the business at all, and it ill be left to the
%oer of imagination alone, or to the mere
understanding alone. The %oer of imagination,
hoe&er, for itself, is not about to tolerate a %rocess of
synthesis hich becomes embarrassing for it. It thus
contents itself ith the mere a%%rehension of
something, and it ne&er e&en occurs to it to ant to
gi&e its re%resentations uni&ersality. This is the source
of that most stu%id insensibility ith hich the sa&age
can dell in the la% of most sublime .ature, and
amidst the symbols of the Infinite, ithout thereby
being ao#en from his bestial slumber, ithout
re&ering e&en from afar the great s%irit of .ature,
hich s%ea#s to a feeling soul out of the sensuous3
immeasurable.
+hat the crude sa&age ga%es at ith dull insensibility,
the unner&ed ea#ling flees as an object of horror, one
hich shos him not his strength, but only his
im%otence. )is straitened heart feels %ainfully %ulled
asunder by great ideas. )is imagination is sufficiently
e$citable to ma#e an attem%t at re%resenting the
sensuous3infinite, but his ?eason is not sufficiently
inde%endent to com%lete this underta#ing ith
success. )e ants to scale the summit, but goes to his
#ness halfay, fainting. )e does combat ith
aesome *enius, but only ith earthly ea%ons, not
immortal ones. 9onscious of this ea#ness, he %refers
to ithdra from a sight hich ould &anquish him,
and see#s succor from the consolatri$ of all ea# men,
the rule. If he cannot stand u% straight to the greatness
of .ature, then .ature must climb don to his small
%oers of com%rehension. /he must e$change her
bold forms for those of artifice, those alien to her, but
hich are yet hat his s%oiled senses require. /he
must subject her ill to his iron yo#e, and cringe ithin
the shac#les of mathematical regularity. That is ho
the earlier 1rench taste in gardens arose, hich at last
has almost entirely gi&en ay to the 'nglish, ithout in
its course ha&ing come a%%reciably closer to true
taste. 1or .ature5s character has just as little to do
ith sheer &ariety as ith uniformity. )er laful,
tranquil seriousness accords just as little ith these
sudden, fri&olous transitions, hich in the ne
gardening style ha&e her ho%%ing from one decoration
to another. 0s .ature transforms herself, she does not
relinquish her harmonious unity, in modest sim%licity
she conceals her fullness, and e&en in the most
e$uberant freedom, e see her u%hold the la of
continuity. A
0mong the objecti&e conditions of the mathematical3
sublime are, first, that the object deemed by us to be
such, constitute a hole, and thus manifest unity2
second, that it ma#e the largest sensuous measure,
hich e habitually use to measure all magnitudes,
utterly useless to us. +ithout the first condition, our
%oer of imagination ould not be challenged at all to
attem%t a re%resentation of its totality2 ithout the
second, it ould not be %ossible for this effort to fail.
The hori4on sur%asses any magnitude hich can e&er
come before the mind5s eye, since all magnitudes in
s%ace must lie ithin it. .e&ertheless e often
obser&e, that one %articular mountain, rising o&er the
hori4on, can gi&e us a far stronger im%ression of the
sublime than our entire field of &ision, hich
encom%asses not only this mountain, but also
thousands of other magnitudes. This comes about,
because the hori4on does not a%%ear to us to be a
single object, and thus e are not in&ited to
com%rehend it and re%resent it as a totality. ,ut if one
remo&es all objects from the hori4on hich es%ecially
attract our attention, if one concei&es of a ide,
continuous %lain, or an o%en sea, the hori4on itself
becomes an object, and indeed the most sublime
hich can e&er a%%ear before our eyes. The circular
sha%e of the hori4on es%ecially contributes to this
im%ression, because, in itself, it is so easy to gras%,
and all the less can the %oer of imagination abstain
from see#ing to com%ete the sha%e.
The reason for the aesthetic im%ression of magnitude,
hoe&er, is that the %oer of imagination attem%ts in
&ain to gi&e a com%lete re%resentation of the gi&en
object, and this can only come to %ass in such a
manner, that the ma$imum measure of magnitude
hich the %oer of imagination can gras% clearly at
one stri#e, adding to itself as many times as the mind
can clearly thin# all together, is too small for the object.
,ut from this it seems to follo, that objects of li#e
magnitude ould also ha&e to ma#e an im%ression of
li#e sublimity, and smaller si4e ould elicit a lesser
im%ression, hich, hoe&er, is contrary to e$%erience.
1or according to e$%erience, the %art often seems
more sublime than the hole, the mountain or toer
more sublime than the s#y it stretches toard, the cliff
u%on hich the a&es ash more sublime than the
ocean. )ere one must recall the condition mentioned
abo&e, by force of hich the aesthetic im%ression only
ensues hen the imagination is rece%ti&e for the
totality of the object. If it omits to do so ith res%ect to
the far larger object, and on the other hand carries it
out ith res%ect to the smaller one, it may be
aesthetically stirred by the latter, and yet insensiti&e to
the former. If it thin#s this larger object as a magnitude,
hoe&er, the imagination thin#s it, at the same time, as
a unity, and then it must necessarily ma#e a relati&ely
stronger im%ression, the more it e$ceeds the other in
si4e.
0ll sensuous magnitudes e$ist either in s%ace
(e$tended magnitudes) or in time (numerical
magnitudes). 0lthough e&ery e$tended magnitude is at
the same time a numerical magnitude (for e must
also a%%rehend in time that hich is gi&en in s%ace),
numerical magnitude is yet itself sublime only insofar
as I transform it into a s%atial magnitude. The 'arth5s
distance from /irius is certainly an enormous quantum
ith res%ect to time, and if I ant to gras% it in its
totality, it o&erhelms my imagination2 but it ould
ne&er occur to me to behold this tem%oral magnitude,
on the contrary, I a&ail myself of numbers, and that,
only hen I call to mind, that the ma$imum s%atial
magnitude I can com%rehend as a unity, e.g., a
mountain3range, is ne&ertheless a much too small and
utterly useless measure for this distance, do I recei&e
the im%ression of sublimity. Thus, I do ta#e the
measure for this distance from e$tended magnitudes,
and it de%ends u%on just this measure, hether or not
an object is to seem large to us.
*reat magnitude in s%ace a%%ears either in lengths or
in heights (hich also include de%ths, for de%th is only
a height belo us, just as height can be termed a
de%th abo&e us). 0ccordingly, <atin %oets did not
hesitate to use the e$%ression %rofundus Bdee%C for
heights as ell: ni facerent, maria ac terris coelumque
%rofundum qui%%e ferent ra%idi secum....AA =0eneid,
I., &. DE
)eights indeed seem more sublime than equally great
lengths, %artly for the reason that the dynamic3sublime
combines ith the &ision of the height. 0 mere length,
hoe&er im%ossible it may be to see its end3%oint, has
nothing at all terrifying about it, but a height surely
does, for e could fall don from it. 1or the same
reason, a de%th is still more sublime than a height,
because the idea of the terrible immediately
accom%anies it. 1or a great height to frighten us, e
must first thin# oursel&es aloft, and thus transform it
into a de%th. >ne can readily e$%erience this if one
beholds a blue s#y intermi$ed ith clouds in a ell, or
in dar# ater, here its infinite de%th gi&es an
incom%arably more terrifying a%%earance than its
height. The same thing ha%%ens to a still greater
degree, hen one loo#s u%side3don at the s#y, hich
in the same ay becomes a de%th, and, because it is
the only object hich stri#es our &ie, it irresistibly
com%els our %oer of imagination to re%resent its
totality. )eights and de%ths affect us more intensely for
e$actly this reason, because no %rocess of
com%arison ea#ens the estimation of their
magnitude. 0 length alays has a metric on the
hori4on, before hich it %ales, for, hoe&er far a line
may e$tend, the hea&ens also e$tend so far. The
highest mountain range is indeed small against the
height of the firmament, but that is merely hat the
understanding teaches, not the eye, and it is not the
hea&ens hose height ma#es the mountains lo,
rather it is the mountains hich, by their magnitude,
sho the ele&ation of the s#y. It is, accordingly, not
merely an optically correct, but also a symbolically true
idea, hen it is said, that 0tlas holds u% the hea&ens.
Fust as the hea&ens themsel&es literally seem to rest
on 0tlas, so our idea of the height of the hea&ens rests
u%on the height of 0tlas. Thus the mountain, in the
figurati&e sense, really holds u% the hea&ens, because
it holds the hea&ens aloft for our sensuous
com%rehension. +ithout the mountain, the hea&ens
ould fall, that is, it ould sin# before our eyes and be
brought lo.
NOTES
A B/chiller footnoteC: The art of gardening and the art of
drama ha&e had in recent times somehat the same
fate, and indeed in the same nations. The same
tyranny of rules in 1rench gardens and 1rench
tragedies2 the same motley, ild unruliness in the
%ar#s of 'nglishmen and in their /ha#es%eare2 and as
*erman taste from time immemorial has had the la
laid don by foreigners, in this case too it as
com%elled to sing bac# and forth beteen those to
e$tremes.
AA /chiller5s translation, from 7@er /turm auf dem
Tyrrhener Geer8:
Thaet er das nicht, sie braechen her&or,
durchuehlten die Geere, /chleiften den 'rdball, und
schleiften den eigen )immel Git sich dahin....