objects and cognitions only in so far as they can be represented by
means of intuition. But this circumstance is easily overlooked,
because the said intuition can itself be given a priori, and therefore
is hardly to be distinguished from a mere pure conception. Deceived
by such a proof of the power of reason, we can perceive no limits to
the extension of our knowledge. The light dove cleaving in free flight
the thin air, whose resistance it feels, might imagine that her
movements would be far more free and rapid in airless space. Just in
the same way did Plato, abandoning the world of sense because of the
narrow limits it sets to the understanding, venture upon the wings
of ideas beyond it, into the void space of pure intellect. He did
not reflect that he made no real progress by all his efforts; for he
met with no resistance which might serve him for a support, as it
were, whereon to rest, and on which he might apply his powers, in
order to let the intellect acquire momentum for its progress. It is,
indeed, the common fate of human reason in speculation, to finish
the imposing edifice of thought as rapidly as possible, and then for
the first time to begin to examine whether the foundation is a solid
one or no. Arrived at this point, all sorts of excuses are sought
after, in order to console us for its want of stability, or rather,
indeed, to enable Us to dispense altogether with so late and dangerous
an investigation. But what frees us during the process of building
from all apprehension or suspicion, and flatters us into the belief
of its solidity, is this. A great part, perhaps the greatest part,
of the business of our reason consists in the analysation of the
conceptions which we already possess of objects. By this means we gain
a multitude of cognitions, which although really nothing more than
elucidations or explanations of that which (though in a confused
manner) was already thought in our conceptions, are, at least in
respect of their form, prized as new introspections; whilst, so far