It follows that if thou thinkest the infinite, thou perceivest and
affirmest the infinitude of the power of thought; if thou feelest the
infinite, thou feelest and affirmest the infinitude of the power of
feeling. The object of the intellect is intellect objective to itself;
the object of feeling is feeling objective to itself. If thou hast no
sensibility, no feeling for music, thou perceivest in the finest music
nothing more than in the wind that whistles by thy ear, or than in the
brook which rushes past thy feet. What, then, is it which acts on thee
when thou art affected by melody? What dost thou perceive in it? What
else than the voice of thy own heart? Feeling speaks only to feeling;
feeling is comprehensible only by feeling, that is, by itself--for this
reason, that the object of feeling is nothing else than feeling. Music
is a monologue of emotion. But the dialogue of philosophy also is
in truth only a monologue of the intellect; thought speaks only to
thought. The splendours of the crystal charm the sense, but the
intellect is interested only in the laws of crystallisation. The
intellectual only is the object of the intellect. [7]
All therefore which, in the point of view of metaphysical,
transcendental speculation and religion, has the significance only
of the secondary, the subjective, the medium, the organ--has in
truth the significance of the primary, of the essence, of the object
itself. If, for example, feeling is the essential organ of religion,
the nature of God is nothing else than an expression of the nature
of feeling. The true but latent sense of the phrase, "Feeling is the
organ of the divine," is, feeling is the noblest, the most excellent,
i.e., the divine, in man. How couldst thou perceive the divine by
feeling, if feeling were not itself divine in its nature? The divine
assuredly is known only by means of the divine--God is known only by
himself. The divine nature which is discerned by feeling is in truth
nothing else than feeling enraptured, in ecstasy with itself--feeling
intoxicated with joy, blissful in its own plenitude.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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