II.
ANTICIPATIONS OF PERCEPTION.
The principle of these is: "In all phenomena the Real, that which is an object of sensation, has Intensive Quantity,
that is, has a Degree."
PROOF.
Perception is empirical consciousness, that is to say, a
consciousness which contains an element of sensation. Phenomena as
objects of perception are not pure, that is, merely formal intuitions,
like space and time, for they cannot be perceived in themselves.*
They contain, then, over and above the intuition, the materials for an
object (through which is represented something existing in space or
time), that is to say, they contain the real of sensation, as a
representation merely subjective, which gives us merely the
consciousness that the subject is affected, and which we refer to some
external object. Now, a gradual transition from empirical
consciousness to pure consciousness is possible, inasmuch as the
real in this consciousness entirely vanishes, and there remains a
merely formal consciousness (a priori) of the manifold in time and
space; consequently there is possible a synthesis also of the
production of the quantity of a sensation from its commencement,
that is, from the pure intuition = 0 onwards up to a certain
quantity of the sensation. Now as sensation in itself is not an
objective representation, and in it is to be found neither the
intuition of space nor of time, it cannot possess any extensive
quantity, and yet there does belong to it a quantity (and that by
means of its apprehension, in which empirical consciousness can within
a certain time rise from nothing = 0 up to its given amount),
consequently an intensive quantity. And thus we must ascribe intensive
quantity, that is, a degree of influence on sense to all objects of
perception, in so far as this perception contains sensation.
[*]
They can be perceived only as phænomena, and some part of them must always belong to the
non—ego; whereas pure intuitions are entirely the products of the mind itself, and as such are cognized in
themselves. — Tr.
All cognition, by means of which I am enabled to cognize and
determine a priori what belongs to empirical cognition, may be
called an anticipation; and without doubt this is the sense in which
Epicurus employed his expression prholepsis. But as there is in
phenomena something which is never cognized a priori, which on this
account constitutes the proper difference between pure and empirical
cognition, that is to say, sensation (as the matter of perception), it
follows, that sensation is just that element in cognition which cannot
be at
all anticipated. On the other hand, we might very well term
the pure determinations in space and time, as well in regard to figure
as to quantity, anticipations of phenomena, because they represent
a
priori that which may always be given
a posteriori in experience.
But suppose that in every sensation, as sensation in general,
without any particular sensation being thought of, there existed
something which could be cognized
a priori, this would deserve to be
called anticipation in a special sense— special, because it may seem
surprising to forestall experience, in that which concerns the
matter of experience, and which we can only derive from itself. Yet
such really is the case here.
Apprehension,* by means of sensation alone, fills only one moment,
that is, if I do not take into consideration a succession of many
sensations. As that in the phenomenon, the apprehension of which is
not a successive synthesis advancing from parts to an entire
representation, sensation has therefore no extensive quantity; the
want of sensation in a moment of time would represent it as empty,
consequently = O. That which in the empirical intuition corresponds to
sensation is reality (realitas phænomenon); that which corresponds to
the absence of it, negation = O. Now every sensation is capable of a
diminution, so that it can decrease, and thus gradually disappear.
Therefore, between reality in a phenomenon and negation, there
exists a continuous concatenation of many possible intermediate
sensations, the difference of which from each other is always
smaller than that between the given sensation and zero, or complete
negation. That is to say, the real in a phenomenon has always a
quantity, which however is not discoverable in apprehension,
inasmuch as apprehension take place by means of mere sensation in
one instant, and not by the successive synthesis of many sensations,
and therefore does not progress from parts to the whole. Consequently,
it has a quantity, but not an extensive quantity.
[*]
Apprehension is the Kantian word for perception, in the largest sense in which we employ
the term. It is the genus which includes under it as species, perception proper and sensation proper. — Tr.
Now that quantity which is apprehended only as unity, and in which
plurality can be represented only by approximation to negation = O,
I term intensive quantity. Consequently, reality in a phenomenon has
intensive quantity, that is, a degree.
If we consider this reality
as cause (be it of sensation or of another reality in the
phenomenon, for example, a change), we call the degree of reality in
its character of cause a momentum, for example, the momentum of
weight; and for this reason, that the degree only indicates that
quantity the apprehension of which is not successive, but
instantaneous. This, however, I touch upon only in passing, for with
Causality I have at present nothing to do.
Accordingly, every sensation, consequently every reality in
phenomena, however small it may be, has a degree, that is, an
intensive quantity, which may always be lessened, and between
reality and negation there exists a continuous connection of
possible realities, and possible smaller perceptions. Every colour—
for example, red— has a degree, which, be it ever so small, is never
the smallest, and so is it always with heat, the momentum of weight,
&c.
This property of quantities, according to which no part of them is
the smallest possible (no part simple*), is called their continuity.
Space and time are quanta continua, because no part of them can be
given, without enclosing it within boundaries (points and moments),
consequently, this given part is itself a space or a time. Space,
therefore, consists only of spaces, and time of times. Points and
moments are only boundaries, that is, the mere places or positions
of their limitation. But places always presuppose intuitions which are
to limit or determine them; and we cannot conceive either space or
time composed of constituent parts which are given before space or
time. Such quantities may also be called flowing, because synthesis
(of the productive imagination) in the production of these
quantities is a progression in time, the continuity of which we are
accustomed to indicate by the expression flowing.
All phenomena, then, are continuous quantities, in respect both to
intuition and mere perception (sensation, and with it reality). In the
former case they are extensive quantities; in the latter, intensive.
When the synthesis of the manifold of a phenomenon is interrupted,
there results merely an aggregate of several phenomena, and not
properly a phenomenon as a quantity, which is not produced by the mere
continuation of the productive synthesis of a certain kind, but
by the
repetition of a synthesis always ceasing. For example, if I call
thirteen dollars a sum or quantity of money, I employ the term quite
correctly, inasmuch as I understand by thirteen dollars the value of a
mark in standard silver, which is, to be sure, a continuous
quantity, in which no part is the smallest, but every part might
constitute a piece of money, which would contain material for still
smaller pieces. If, however, by the words thirteen dollars I
understand so many coins (be their value in silver what it may), it
would be quite erroneous to use the expression a quantity of
dollars; on the contrary, I must call them aggregate, that is, a
number of coins. And as in every number we must have unity as the
foundation, so a phenomenon taken as unity is a quantity, and as
such always a continuous quantity (quantum continuum).
Now, seeing all phenomena, whether considered as extensive or
intensive, are continuous quantities, the proposition: "All change
(transition of a thing from one state into another) is continuous,"
might be proved here easily, and with mathematical evidence, were it
not that the causality of a change lies, entirely beyond the bounds of
a transcendental philosophy, and presupposes empirical principles. For
of the possibility of a cause which changes the condition of things,
that is, which determines them to the contrary to a certain given
state, the understanding gives us a priori no knowledge; not merely
because it has no insight into the possibility of it (for such insight
is absent in several a priori cognitions), but because the notion of
change concerns only certain determinations of phenomena, which
experience alone can acquaint us with, while their cause lies in the
unchangeable. But seeing that we have nothing which we could here
employ but the pure fundamental conceptions of all possible
experience, among which of course nothing empirical can be admitted,
we dare not, without injuring the unity of our system, anticipate
general physical science, which is built upon certain fundamental
experiences.
Nevertheless, we are in no want of proofs of the great influence
which the principle above developed exercises in the anticipation of
perceptions, and even in supplying the want of them, so far as to
shield us against the false conclusions which otherwise we might
rashly draw.
If all reality in perception has a degree, between which and
negation there is an endless sequence of ever smaller degrees, and if,
nevertheless, every sense must have a determinate degree of
receptivity for sensations; no perception, and consequently no
experience is possible, which can prove, either immediately or
mediately, an entire absence of all reality in a phenomenon; in
other words, it is impossible ever to draw from experience a proof
of the existence of empty space or of empty time. For in the first
place, an entire absence of reality in a sensuous intuition cannot
of course be an object of perception; secondly, such absence cannot be
deduced from the contemplation of any single phenomenon, and the
difference of the degrees in its reality; nor ought it ever to be
admitted in explanation of any phenomenon. For if even the complete
intuition of a determinate space or time is thoroughly real, that
is, if no part thereof is empty, yet because every reality has its
degree, which, with the extensive quantity of the phenomenon
unchanged, can diminish through endless gradations down to nothing
(the void), there must be infinitely graduated degrees, with which
space or time is filled, and the intensive quantity in different
phenomena may be smaller or greater, although the extensive quantity
of the intuition remains equal and unaltered.
We shall give an example of this. Almost all natural philosophers,
remarking a great difference in the quantity of the matter* of
different kinds in bodies with the same volume (partly on account of
the momentum of gravity or weight, partly on account of the momentum
of resistance to other bodies in motion), conclude unanimously that
this volume (extensive quantity of the phenomenon) must be void in all
bodies, although in different proportion. But who would suspect that
these for the most part mathematical and mechanical inquirers into
nature should ground this conclusion solely on a metaphysical
hypothesis— a sort of hypothesis which they profess to disparage and
avoid? Yet this they do, in assuming that the real in space (I must
not here call it impenetrability or weight, because these are
empirical conceptions) is always identical, and can only be
distinguished according to its extensive quantity, that is,
multiplicity. Now to this presupposition, for which they can have no
ground in experience, and which consequently is merely metaphysical, I
oppose a transcendental demonstration,
which it is true will not
explain the difference in the filling up of spaces, but which
nevertheless completely does away with the supposed necessity of the
above—mentioned presupposition that we cannot explain the said
difference otherwise than by the hypothesis of empty spaces. This
demonstration, moreover, has the merit of setting the understanding at
liberty to conceive this distinction in a different manner, if the
explanation of the fact requires any such hypothesis. For we
perceive that although two equal spaces may be completely filled by
matters altogether different, so that in neither of them is there left
a single point wherein matter is not present, nevertheless, every
reality has its degree (of resistance or of weight), which, without
diminution of the extensive quantity, can become less and less
ad
infinitum, before it passes into nothingness and disappears. Thus an
expansion which fills a space— for example, caloric, or any other
reality in the phenomenal world— can decrease in its degrees to
infinity, yet without leaving the smallest part of the space empty; on
the contrary, filling it with those lesser degrees as completely as
another phenomenon could with greater. My intention here is by no
means to maintain that this is really the case with the difference
of matters, in regard to their specific gravity; I wish only to prove,
from a principle of the pure understanding, that the nature of our
perceptions makes such a mode of explanation possible, and that it
is erroneous to regard the real in a phenomenon as equal
quoad its
degree, and different only
quoad its aggregation and extensive
quantity, and this, too, on the pretended authority of an
a priori
principle of the understanding.
[*]
It should be remembered that Kant means by matter, that which in the object
corresponds to sensation in the subject — the real in a phænomenon. — Tr.
Nevertheless, this principle of the anticipation of perception
must somewhat startle an inquirer whom initiation into
transcendental philosophy has rendered cautious. We must naturally
entertain some doubt whether or not the understanding can enounce
any such synthetical proposition as that respecting the degree of
all reality in phenomena, and consequently the possibility of the
internal difference of sensation itself— abstraction being made of its
empirical quality. Thus it is a question not unworthy of solution:
"How the understanding can pronounce synthetically and a priori
respecting phenomena, and thus anticipate these, even in that which is
peculiarly and merely empirical, that, namely, which concerns
sensation itself?"
The quality of sensation is in all cases merely empirical, and
cannot be represented a priori (for example, colours, taste, &c.).
But the real— that which corresponds to sensation— in opposition to
negation = O, only represents something the conception of which in
itself contains a being (ein seyn), and signifies nothing but the
synthesis in an empirical consciousness. That is to say, the empirical
consciousness in the internal sense can be raised from 0 to every
higher degree, so that the very same extensive quantity of
intuition, an illuminated surface, for example, excites as great a
sensation as an aggregate of many other surfaces less illuminated.
We can therefore make complete abstraction of the extensive quantity
of a phenomenon, and represent to ourselves in the mere sensation in a
certain momentum,* a synthesis of homogeneous ascension from 0 up to
the given empirical consciousness, All sensations therefore as such
are given only a posteriori, but this property thereof, namely, that
they have a degree, can be known a priori. It is worthy of remark,
that in respect to quantities in general, we can cognize a priori only
a single quality, namely, continuity; but in respect to all quality
(the real in phenomena), we cannot cognize a priori anything more than
the intensive quantity thereof, namely, that they have a degree. All
else is left to experience.
[*]
The particular degree of "reality," that is, the particular power or intensive
quantity in the cause of a sensation, for example, redness, weight, &c., is called in the
Kantian terminology, its moment. The term momentum which we employ, must not be confounded
with the word commonly employed in natural science. — Tr.