Metaphysics of Rhythm by Aurelius Augustine

The force of attraction of St. Augustine is colossal. Entering the orbit of this giant, you immediately notice that its attractiveness from the outside, accessible to the first observer, can be explained by its unique scale and massiveness. The vastness of the creative heritage of this father of the Western Church is, indeed, so great that the description given to him by his sincere admirer Isidore of Seville in the “formula” of library poems should not be perceived only as a stylistic figure: He is lying who boasts: “I read all of it!” Does anyone have the entire range of his creations? After all, in thousands of volumes you, Augustine, shine; They are evidence of what I say. Mentitur qui te totum legisse fatetur: An quis cuncta tua lector habere potest? Namque voluminibus mille, Augustine, refulges? Testantur libri, quod loquor ipse, tui 1. True, no matter how great - be it extensively or intensively - we recognize the phenomenon of Augustine, we, defining it only on this plane, would remain with him only in direct relation, within the boundaries of which Isidore with his “praises” resides. This attitude is quite understandable for a medieval intellectual who was less than two centuries removed from the authority that directly influenced him. However, for us, who are more than one and a half thousand years away from the phenomenon in question, Augustine’s attraction can no longer be as direct, but must prove itself in the form of a more complex connection. This deeper relationship lies in the fact that we strive to discover his necessity, and, moreover, such a one, the circle of which would be the circle of our own necessity, for otherwise we would lose any basis for asserting that Augustine influences us, as they say, ex profundis. Having taken up the issue of taking Augustine seriously, we will, of course, proceed from what we already know about the certainty of his philosophical heritage, for it is this that constitutes the matter of our study. It is certain that the fundamental form of philosophizing of the Bishop of Hippo, as well as of other contemporary Fathers of the Church, was Neoplatonism, which is rightfully considered the “synthesis” and completion of ancient philosophy and, consequently, the entire ancient culture as a whole. But what, one may ask, is the definition and even the purpose of ancient education, which received its concentrated expression in Neoplatonism? We believe that this is its metaphysical character, for culture in general arises precisely as metaphysics in the broad sense of the word 4. The point is that education begins precisely with the fact that the “surface” of the spirit, its actual existence, is negated, and its still only natural peculiarity is immersed or - which is the same thing - elevated into its substantiality, into universality. The certainty of ancient education, according to the remark of G.V.F. Hegel, and consisted in the fact that the ancients tested themselves with philosophy in every particularity of their existing existence and permeated it through and through with universality 5 . If, to explain what we mean by metaphysics, we take the relation of forms of consciousness, then its result will be the transformation of the realm of sensory experience into the realm of a priori thinking 6 . Thus, the work of ancient philosophy and culture was the work of metaphysics, the principle of which - “ideality in all reality” - was carried out through the fact that the spirit, comprehending, rose from the givenness of the present world to the ideal world existing in itself, to the whole in the element of universality 7, to the world as the world of thought 8. But what was that middle term, in the specificity of which the spiritual ascent from sensory existence into the realm of substantial universality began, and without which these extremes could not be brought into interconnection? Such a medium was beauty, and it is precisely this that is the stage of ancient consciousness 16 (i.e., the image to which the spirit was able to develop itself in ancient times, before it began to cognize itself in the form of selfhood, or thought). It is in beauty that the idea, the logical, receives its embodiment in reality, becomes an ideal, thereby appearing to the spirit and acquiring its universal objectivity. Thanks to this phenomenon of the logical in beauty itself, its conscious work on itself begins 17. That is why it is not surprising that the treatise “On the Beautiful” by Augustine’s philosophical teacher, Plotinus, is first in Porphyry’s list of 18 works by the founder of Neoplatonism. It is also clear that it was ancient culture that taught our father the idea that the ascent of the soul to the heavenly world begins with the beauty of the earthly, because the latter turns out to be the starting point of that turn, so significant for Augustine, by which the metaphysical flight to the intellectual fatherland is accomplished 19. In this regard, it is very significant that in one of his Easter sermons, the Bishop of Hippo admits that “the pagan sages, called philosophers, ... carefully examined nature and from the creations they knew the Creator” (sapientes Gentium, quos philosophos dicunt, ... scrutatos fuisse naturam, et de operibus artificem cognovisse) 20. Moreover, they managed to know God precisely because they proceeded from the beauty of existing things. Augustine's very eloquent presentation of this cognitive procedure is as follows: “Ask the beauty of the earth, ask the beauty of the sea, ask the beauty of the expanded and open air, ask the beauty of the sky, ask the order of the constellations, ask the sun, which illuminates the day with its radiance, ask the moon, with its light tempering the darkness of the coming night, ask the animals moving in the water, attached to the earth and flying in the air; hidden souls and visible bodies; the visible governed and the invisible ruling; ask all this, and you will hear the answer: “Look, we are beautiful.” Their beauty is their confession. Who created this transitory beauty if not he who is beautiful in an everlasting way?” 21. In this aspect of knowledge, Augustine’s connection with antiquity is all the more definite for us when he, completely following the tradition of Platonism, moves from sensory beauty to intellectual beauty, and especially to the beauty of science. One who strives for knowledge (studiosus) studies (studet) science because he contemplates and loves with his mind its beauty (pulchritudo doctrinae, species doctrinae) 22. Since for antiquity there is nothing more beautiful than wisdom, which, according to Augustine, is true beauty itself 23, it is necessary to turn from philocalia (as love for still-sensual beauty) to philosophy 24 as knowledge “not of this world” 25, which is the true cult of God (Dei cultus) 26 and should be placed above any other science 27. The latter is of fundamental interest because with one of its meanings it reveals rhythm as still only a sensual, albeit ordered, element, containing supersensible “secrets” as the foundations of its existence, while with another – namely, the fact that it is a number – it affirms it in the intelligible world of enduring essences 30 . Thus, in particular this concept, a universal metaphysical ascent is accomplished, which is why we have the right to believe that rhythm is the key “gestalt” in the formation of the ancient spirit 31. It is very significant that such a deep mastery of rhythmic problems by an African led the research to the idea that his concept began to be interpreted as a logical conclusion in the development of the ancient understanding of rhythm 32 . Moreover, it seems that only such an interpretation would be a logical justification for one of the concluding characteristics of Augustinian aesthetics given by K. Svoboda, according to which it was “the synthesis and crown of ancient aesthetics” (la synthèse et le couronnement de l' esthétique ancienne) 33. But for us, in the context under consideration, it is important to emphasize that the metaphysics of rhythm, as Augustine himself understood it, was the universal spiritual ladder along which antiquity climbed to the realization of its concept. However, it would be more than strange if we did not recognize that Augustine, as a Christian in general, and even more so as a clergyman and even the Father of the Church, should have manifested the outlines of a new spiritual culture. These new formations undoubtedly won their own living space in his person, which is why they entered into inevitable confrontation with the previous education. Therefore, it has long become commonplace to point out that the Bishop of Hippo was a contradictory figure, combining in himself the ancient spirit that was completing its formation and the spirit of Christianity that had begun its formation 34 . However, this “combination” itself is for now only a completely external relationship; it has become a kind of stereotype, serving only as a “wrapper” for a more complex phenomenon. That is why it is both superficial and hasty to assume, like R.A. Marcus that, “Augustine in many respects belonged to both worlds, and not least intellectually” (emphasis added – A.T.) 35. Moreover, the statement of J.M. is not entirely thought out. Rist that Augustine managed to “baptize” ancient thought, transforming it in the most radical way 36. In fact, there is no talk of any “mixing”, “convergence” or even “baptism” in the proper sense of the intellectual, i.e. philosophical attitudes are out of the question, because in order for Christian culture to influence the philosophical position of the ancient thinker, it itself had to first develop into its own philosophical form. However, this philosophical transformation will occur, as we know, only in the modern era. In the meantime, even at the center of his Christian educational program, which is his treatise “On Christian Science,” Augustine, in order to explain the purpose and objectives of this work, with all the diligent quoting of Holy Scripture, is forced to turn to the development of Plotinus’ image of a journey made to return to his homeland, as an illustration of the essence of metaphysical knowledge 37 . It is this process of the spirit in rhythmic determination, or rhythm as a process of metaphysics itself, that is our main interest in Augustinian thought. Therefore, while in the previous study we drew attention to the seemingly paradoxical phenomenon of the transition of Augustinian aesthetics of rhythm, on the one hand, from a scientific form to an artistic one (represented in his work, respectively, by the learned treatise “On Music” and “Psalm against the Donatists”), and on the other, from the ideal canons of ancient versification to the emerging new Christian one, far from flawless from a classical point of view, and tried to give this phenomenon a reasonable explanation 38, in this work we concentrate on the scientific form of its rhythm, i.e. we study the movement of his metaphysics of rhythm as reaching its limit and transgressing its border 39 . This means that initially we consider the steps by which Augustine raises rhythm from the “vale” of artistic experience to the “heaven” of the abstract principle, which is the completion of ancient thinking in general and the understanding of rhythm in particular. Since the limit of thinking thus placed makes it finite (after all, its certainty remains on the other side, in the “this-worldly” world), it becomes its boundary, in which metaphysics itself is denied. But this negation, as Hegel puts it, is “double-edged” 40 . And since thinking from itself correlates with its limit, then this limitation in it is subject to removal, and it overcomes it. Therefore, the conclusion of our consideration should be thinking in which the “earthly” aspect of rhythm, previously mercilessly condemned, received its “metaphysical” (i.e., generally philosophical) justification and proved itself as an obligatory stage in the comprehension of its concept. We find this type of thinking in the German aesthetics of verse at the end of the 18th century. Having thus outlined the general direction of our work, let us ask ourselves the question of how well-trodden the road is for the researcher. It is quite predictable that the versatility and universality of such a spiritual phenomenon as St. Augustine necessarily causes an ongoing resonance in the cultural environment. Let us remember that his contemporary St. Jerome testified to the worldwide fame of Bishop Hippo 41 . Therefore, it is not surprising that almost a hundred years ago P. Alfarik began his work “The Intellectual Evolution of St. Augustine" (1918) with the assertion that Augustine is the most written about church author, and that just a list of works devoted to him would fill the contents of a weighty volume 42. It is also quite understandable why two decades later A.-I. Zu Augustinus' Begriff des Schönen) (1975), which notes that, firstly, rhythmic equality as an expression of the beauty of existence is, according to Augustine, an aesthetic reflection of the most divine (absolute) beauty; and secondly, that the Augustinian approach to the artistic sphere forms in us the understanding that a work of art in its sensory image represents an “idea”, which is why it, despite its entirely “functional” or “illusionistic” character, turns out to be a transformation of reality. Also noteworthy is D. Walhout’s article “Augustine on the Transcendent in Music” (1989), which shows that Augustine’s treatise “On Music” serves as proof that music has a transcendental dimension. The metaphysical “spirit” of the Augustinian concept is noticeable in the article by A. Schmitt “Number and beauty in the sixth book of Augustins De musicá” (Zahl und Schönheit in Augustins De musica, VI) (1990), arguing that number for Augustine means not just a countable, quantifiable many, but something that goes far beyond this certainty and is more universal, i.e. Critical edition with translation and introduction" (Aurelius Augustinus. De musica VI. A Critical Edition with a Translation and an Introduction) (2002). The work of S. Gersh “The Metaphysical Unity of Music, Motion and Time in Augustinés De Musica” (2009) is also noteworthy, since it establishes that although in the Augustinian approach to music some researchers see an evolution from an earlier ancient model to a later one inspired by the acceptance and study of Christianity and church activity, Augustine as The outstanding Latin representative of the Platonic tradition always clearly separated the practice of music, which relates to the sensory world, and its theoretical principles, which go back to the intellectual field of numbers and relations, which is why it is the latter that are held as the common denominator of Augustinian thought. In conclusion of this brief review, the book by S. Berg: “Musical mechanism: orientation-hermeneutic studies of the relationship between music and religion” (Spielwerk: Orientierungshermeneutische Studien zum Verhältnis von Musik und Religion) (2011), one of the three parts of which is “Music and religion in the ontological horizon: Augustin’s De musica” (Musik und Religion im seinsphilosophishen Horizont: Augustins De musica); as well as the report by J. Christians “Augustinus on (musical) beauty as the path to God” [Augustinus over (musikale) schonheid als weg naar God] (2011), where the author likens music to an “interface” as some kind of formation between the sensory world and the higher divine order (als soort tussen de zintuiglijke wereld en de hogere, goddelijke orde) 45. This means that we must be aware of the certainty of the historical and philosophical activity we carry out: is it only historical or actually philosophical knowledge? It is highly significant that this question was raised in the context of the study of Augustine’s philosophy, namely in the article by I. Bose “The status of the history of philosophy according to Letter 118 of Augustine to Dioscore” (Le statut de l'histoire de la philosophie selon la Lettre 118 d'Augustin à Dioscore). I. Boshe began studying this copy of the epistolary heritage of the holy father because in it he addressed the historical and philosophical questions posed by his correspondent, which revealed two interconnected fundamental aspects of his attitude to the subjectivity of the history of philosophy: the method of reading and assimilating historical texts of philosophy and the problem of interpreting the historical and philosophical process as having a certain meaning as a whole. As the French scientist believes, Augustine’s position represents a “philosophical act” (acte philosophique) 46 (emphasis added – A.T. only an experienced approach to history in general and the history of philosophy in particular, in the inexperience (imperitia) of which its moments are taken in a random form, which is why they remain in an abstract relationship to each other and do not reveal their unity, to the philosophical approach (or, if you like, “a priori”), since it is goal-setting, which means that the historical first arises as a whole, thanks to which history is freed from the form of its insanity - chronicle, becoming history in the true sense of the word 52. But what is this substantial goal of the history of philosophy, in the totality of which only the real meaning of each of its special formations, including the Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm, can be revealed? And is it possible that Augustine considered such a goal, i.e. what this goal was for him is also this goal itself, or for us? There are necessary answers to these challenges of thinking, but it will be legitimate to voice them only after we remember once again that when solving historical and philosophical problems we are dealing specifically with philosophical knowledge. Meanwhile, as J. Hessen, who studied the Augustinian metaphysics of knowledge, rightly noted, “The Sphinx riddle of all philosophy is the problem of the connection between subject and object, thinking and being” (Das Sphinxrätsel aller Philosophie ist die Frage nach dem Verhältnis von Subjekt und Objekt, Denken und Sein) 53, and “knowledge consists in putting thinking and being in the right relation” (Erkennen heißt ja Denken und Sein in die richtige Beziehung setzen) 54. This means, first of all, it is necessary to indicate what form of thinking and being (or either thinking or being) is this “correct attitude”. Only that in the specificity of which both extreme terms reveal their concreteness can be such. And this is the relation of the concept, or the logical relation, for it is in its form that the peak of both subjectivity and substantiality is sharpened, which means that the true unity of thinking and being is found. So, when the question is raised about the goal of the historical development of philosophy, then its logical form should be considered as such, since, as was said, it overcomes the finite nature of knowledge, due to the fact that thinking has not yet eliminated the opposition existing in it between itself and its objectivity. The logical form is substantial if we consider it as the essence and basis of special philosophical concepts existing in history. However, it is substantial only to the extent that it is their true self, subject, absolute self-consciousness, in the universality of which the finite ways in which thinking was aware of itself are sublated, but the concrete content deployed through them is preserved. As a consequence, the African point of view should not be considered as independent, but as drawn into historical-philosophical education, and only as a result of the latter does it acquire its true meaning. For us, this result is the point of view of Hegelian philosophy, and, as a result, it is a logical principle. But since the principle as a whole is valid only to the extent that its parts reveal themselves to be its embodiment and prove themselves to be its members, we strive to show that the peculiarity of the Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm is a necessary personification of its universal concept. The French researcher summarized his thoughts in the work “On Historical Knowledge” (De la connaissance historique) (1954), filled with the spirit of Kantian criticism. He views it as “a prolegomena to any attempt to intelligently develop history” 62 and sets its goal to clarify the boundaries of its knowledge. First of all, however, he draws attention to the need for a philosophical attitude to history and seeks to tear historians out of the stupor in which the empirical (positivist) approach kept them 63. Moreover, from Marroux’s point of view, in historical knowledge one should not just rise above the “dust of small facts”, but strive for an understanding and explanatory rational look into the past, as a result of which its general lines and chains of causal or target relationships should be identified (des lignes générales, ...det chaînes des relations causales ou finalistes) 64. At the same time, Marru admits that the essential tool is the concept (le concept), so that to know historically means to replace the incomprehensible “bare fact” itself with a system of concepts developed by the spirit 65. However, the substance of the historical process in the ideas of historical criticism must remain the Kantian thing-in-itself, “noumenal reality,” a completely incomprehensible “apeiron.” Therefore, it is necessary to stop meditating on its object and begin to start from the historian 68, whose subjectivity precisely forms what is called history, for it is formed as a result of his cognitive activity. In the case of the history of philosophy, this means that its interpretation by both Augustine and Hegel is dogmatic, metaphysical, since they transform its actual course into a genealogical picture into which the emergence of their own philosophy fits. These are, in nuce, the fundamental principles of the criticism that can be directed at the speculative point of view we occupy. However, let us imagine that we are saturated with its spirit and wish only that the subjectivity of the historian, which has now become our principle, receives certainty. In other words, what is the form of subjectivity in whose determination history will be legitimized? Is this a form of sensory intuition or perception? No, because we remember well how Marroux refused to recognize the “bare facts” appearing in their certainty as real. Perhaps this is a form of fantasy, which theorists of “narrativism” 69 gladly exploited as a principle. Not at all, since for Marroux history must have “true” intelligibility, and not be an arbitrary exercise of the imagination that destroys all the seriousness of history as a science and the significance of its truth 70 . But the only serious form, the significance of which the French scientist recognizes, is the form of the concept. If so, then only conceptual, logical, or simply philosophical history can be genuine. So, quite the contrary, it is not the speculative point of view that is dogmatic and metaphysical, but precisely the “critical” position of Marroux, who posits between “our history” (whatever you call it, “phenomenal”, “conceptual”, scientific), i.e. between “subjective” and “objective” (“noumenal”) history there is a real difference (la distinction réelle) 71. After all, if any philosophy (even “critical”) claims that the distinctions it makes are real, objective, then its claims should be recognized as naive metaphysics, or we should stop considering these distinctions themselves as metaphysically fixed and immovable. Thus, the problem of the stated critical point of view is that although it is, of course, correct in positing the moment of subjectivity of the concept, for it is in the latter that it finds its completeness, it turns out to be false to the extent that it cannot understand that this subjectivity is nothing other than the totality of substance, the objectivity of the concept itself. Having thus made sure of the reasonableness of the speculative approach to the study of the historical in general and the historical-philosophical in particular, let us move on to consider what division our study of Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm should receive in accordance with its very concept. Since every concept has as its prerequisite the certainty of thinking in language and in its contemporary era, the first task will be to study the concept of rhythm as a Latin-language phenomenon and to clarify its significance in particular Roman culture. Next we must move on to consider it as a logical principle proper, and then to study the forms of its implementation in nature and the final spirit. Since the concept is self-conscious, the only adequate form of its implementation is the sphere of the universal (absolute) spirit, where it is realized in the forms of art and science. Any concept is a movement of self-positing, realized in the form of history and a certain cultural tradition. That is why one cannot remain with a concept only in direct relation, as if it were something essential outside of what mediated it, i.e. in abstraction from its development. At the same time, it is important not just to state the existence of a distance between what rhythm is for us and what it was for the intellectual of the times of the fall of the Roman Empire; it is necessary to try to overcome this distance by mastering the real certainty in which rhythm appeared in the ancient consciousness that completed itself. This step must be taken all the more because the Latin way of comprehending its concept is truly remarkable and even unique. Let us look carefully at how this uniqueness is determined. Augustine, of course, was not the first Roman author to use the Latin word numerus to express the concept of rhythm. In this sense, he only followed the tradition established long before him, the bearer of which was already Cicero. The latter argued that everything that falls under a certain auditory measure is called numerus, and in Greek is called ῥυθμός 72. However, it is known that the Latin analogue of the Greek expression has a predominant meaning of number, for which in Greek itself there is a direct correspondence - ἀϱιθμός, and “rhythm” is not found among the meanings of the latter. In turn, ῥυθμός can be understood not only as any repeating measured movement or period of time (which is exactly what is familiar to our idea of ​​rhythm), but also as a proportion and symmetrical relationship of parts, regardless of whether the body is moving or not, which is why it could even appear in the meaning of simple orderliness. Moreover, Aristide Quintilian in his treatise “On Music” argued that the word “rhythm” is used not only when talking about something that moves (κἀπὶ πάντων τῶν κινoυμένων), but also about motionless bodies, as in the case when talking about a beautiful statue 73 (emphasis added - ours) A.T. Let us also mention that the Greek “rhythm” even reveals the meaning of the state or composition of anything, as well as the shape, appearance or outline of a thing, and, finally, the meaning of the image, method or method 74. But on what basis does the Latin term numerus, as well as the adjective numerosus, the adverb numerose (numerositer) and the noun numerositas derived from it, which previously served only to explicate the relations of quantity and number, acquire the aesthetic load of rhythmic certainty? Since in the linguistic field itself there are no grounds for “expanding the scope” of this concept, we believe that its reason should be sought in the particularity of the Roman spirit itself as the final phase of ancient culture. To understand this, it is necessary to remember once again that in the time of St. Augustine, the Christian world has not yet descended from the heaven of religious imagination and has not embodied itself in contemplated reality. And this means that the era, the grasp of which in thinking was Neoplatonic philosophy in general and Augustinian philosophy in particular, remained the era of a fully realized Roman state. As we know, the ancient spirit arises as a Greek one, and the Greek religion was a religion of beauty and art. However, beauty is such a certainty of the spirit that makes it limited, since it captures universality in the form of a finite image of reality. Therefore, the Greeks themselves, fed up with the bliss of the beautiful, awakened in philosophy not only to strive for a different kind of beauty, but also to be able to treat it negatively in the activities of their classics and begin to consider the beautiful in general as something that is not a complete totality, as something that still has a goal in itself (and therefore directly outside itself), which is why it turns out to be only a means and is captured by the process of purposeful activity. This religion of expediency was precisely the Roman religion, whose gods are serious and reasonable, in contrast to the frolicking, childish gods of the Greeks. In this context, Augustine's metaphysical position in general and in rhythm in particular is an eloquent illustration of how everything particular must say goodbye to its independence and recognize the dominance of the universal. In the introduction, we mentioned the opposition of such definitions of Augustinian thinking as uti (use) and frui (enjoyment), the significance of which goes beyond the scope of ethical problematics (within whose boundaries it is directly formulated) 80 and is of metaphysical interest in the broad sense of the word. Augustine develops his thoughts regarding this opposition in many works, but he speaks especially clearly about it in the first book of the treatise On Christian Science. Here he points out that objects that should be enjoyed (illae quibus fruendum est) make us blissful, and those that should be used (istis quibus utendum est) 81 help us achieve this bliss. If we prefer to enjoy what we should only use, then, due to love for the lower, we go astray and even completely turn away from what we should enjoy. In accordance with his view, rhythms that do not achieve the formation of the mind (numeri qui sunt infra rationem), although they can be beautiful in their own way (in suo genere), this particular beauty of theirs is not beautiful in a universal way, that is, for itself and for itself. Therefore, if the soul chooses their finite beauty as the object of its love, then it loves in them not only what makes them beautiful, and this is the highest metaphysical principle of eternal and unchanging equality, but also their orderliness, which has a transitory nature. But such love for inferior beauty defiles the soul, for this inferiority, compared with the dignity of the soul, must be despised. Consequently, these final rhythms cannot be loved as if we became blessed by enjoying them (neque amemus eos, ut quasi perfruendo talibus beatati efficiamur). “We will abstain from them, since they are temporary...,” concludes Augustine, “however, using them for good (his etenim, quoniam temporales sunt..., sed bene utendo carebimus)” 87 (our italics - A.T.). The substantiality of number, according to Macrobius, also manifests itself in the fact that the world soul itself turns out to be composed of musical harmonies and rhythms (ex symphoniis quoque musicis constitisse) 93; and in the fact that the combination of souls with bodies is established by a certain ratio of numbers (numerorum certam constitutamque rationem animas sociare corporibus) 94; and, of course, in the fact that the planetary spheres produce harmonious sounds in their movement, inaudible to mortals. Thus, it is clear that the arrhythmological, or even numerological, approach to Augustine’s rhythm was “sanctified” by the actively developing tradition of all ancient thinking. 2. Numerus as a logical principle in Augustine’s metaphysics of rhythm 95 The German specialist is convinced that in the field of everything tangible and intelligible, number for Augustine is also the principle of intelligibility, so that through it, beings generally become knowable and as one distinguishable from another 98. This conviction is confirmed by Augustine’s text from his treatise “On Free Will,” in which he delivers an inspired sermon on how divine wisdom in every external image as a concrete being, having finite definiteness and sensory perception, speaks to us through its “traces” and calls us to penetrate inside, into the substance of these formations. We are thereby required to realize that everything that attracts us and gives us pleasure in this bodily and sensory is numerosum, that is, rhythmic and/or determined by number. Augustine also strives to achieve understanding that we can make our judgment regarding what we perceive through the bodily senses, that is, regarding the particular, only because there are universal laws of beauty 99. This means, the African concludes, “in order for the changeable to be kept in existence, and even with a properly distributed variety of forms to seem to make turns in time, there must be an eternal and unchanging form (aliquam formam aeternam et incommutabilem), which would not be contained and, as it were, dissipated in space, would not continue and change in time, but through which the finite would be able to be formed and in its own particularity (pro suo genere) to fulfill and to carry out the rhythms of a certain space and time (locorum ac temporum numeros)" 100. Of course, this “eternal and unchanging form” is number (numerus). At the same time, it is important to emphasize that since for Augustine it is from rhythms-numbers (ex numeris) that the matter of finite being is woven, then rhythm-number, delving into itself, reaches itself, but not in a special, but in a universal form, realizing itself as a logical, ontological or “metaphysical” (here for us it’s all one) principle 101. For us, this “subtle” distinction of the mind into regions of being and knowledge that are opposite in their immediacy is extremely remarkable because in it we receive the key to explaining the subsequent corresponding division of rhythm, which is contained in the Augustinian musical doctrine, but in its particularity is not quite consciously carried out. In order to delve into the distinctions hidden in the Augustinian concept, it is necessary to additionally differentiate the moments of the previously considered differences in the rhythmic-numerical area, namely, the differences within the Latin concept of numerus itself. Until now, this difference has been defined, so to speak, only flatly, in a literal sense, one-sidedly metaphysically, as the difference between Rome and number, sensuality and intellectuality, the coming and the eternal, the particular and the universal. As it should be understood, with such a straightforward opposition, some, no matter how sonorous they appear, should always have been only muffled, inarticulate traces of others, remaining in the innermost and majestic silence 104. However, we note that each of the moments of opposition is a totality within itself, since it is divided, in turn, into the certainties of being and knowledge. These are, first of all, differences in the area of ​​sensory rhythms: between sensual (sensible) rhythms (sensibiles) and feeling (sensing) rhythms (sensuales). In the treatise “On Music,” for example, we encounter this opposition more than once in the same context of argument. Thus, reflecting on the fact that even when addressing the bodily sphere we cannot be divorced from the rhythms of the mind, which are excellent in their beauty, Augustine notes that otherwise, the driving rhythms would not measure the sensory ones, whose functions, in the presence of bodily movements, include identifying the sensory beauties of the rhythmic beats (progressores numeros sensuales non modificarent: qui rursus movendis corporibus agunt sensibiles temporum pulchritudines) 105. Perhaps no less indicative is the text where our “musicologist” states the existence of rhythms that sense what moves appropriately or not in actions, from which it is not forbidden to call them also sensory, for it is sensed signs that are what some souls influence others in this way (qui sentiant quid in his actibus commode sive incommode moveatur, quos item sensuales appellare non pigeat, quia sensibilia signa sunt quibus hoc modo animae ad animas agunt) 106 . In this regard, it turns out that in the Augustinian interpretation, the logical for itself is limited in its knowledge of itself only to the form of abstraction from certainty (which logically is number) and has not known itself in the form of its integrity, the concept, since it has not yet passed through the crucible of knowledge of itself as the actual subjectivity of finite self-consciousness 111. In the above nuances of Augustine’s classification of rhythms, what is striking first of all is that the aspect of subjectivity, self-consciousness, “intelligence”, which we discover in the content of his rhythmic concept, does not become a “formal”, conscious principle. But substantialism, set by the thinker as a criterion, is itself not yet sufficiently founded, “substantial”, since it remains a naive, direct method of mediation, because it considers the justified in metaphysical abstraction from its grounder. Thus, the created, the created, always turns out to be defective in comparison with the creator, the creator, as if the latter did not reflect inwards from the former and thereby did not receive its mediation and justification from it. Only the self-existent integrity of the moments of mediation forms the true substance, which in fact is the subject. This problematic nature of the Augustinian interpretation of numerus does not allow it to unfold in all the fullness of its significance, and this dissonance between its concept and reality is heard with particular piercingness in the reflections of the “musicologist” devoted to self-conscious forms of spiritual activity - art and scientific knowledge. As for the rhythms present in artistic creativity, it must immediately be noted that from the Augustinian point of view (expressing the Platonic tendency in relation to art), they should in no way be overestimated, just as those who make or honor such works cannot be taken for anything significant (nec... pro mango habendi sunt qui talia opera fabricantur aut diligunt) 119 . The disdain we experience for artistic activity is easily explained in the context of ancient substantialism by the fact that we cannot see in the artist its true subject, which “in reality” is only the “highest art” (ars summa) of the Divine, also called his Wisdom 120, for it is she who acts in the masters in such a way that they create the beautiful and conformable (ipsa operatur etiam per artifices, ut pulchra et congruentia faciant). But this means that artists are by no means the creators of beautiful forms, harmony, rhythms, but assimilate them in their souls from this higher wisdom, which previously imprinted all this much more artistically in the universal body of the universe 121. Augustine therefore insists that the beautiful in nature is superior to the beautiful in art, 122 and the African does not leave us without arguments regarding this thesis. The thinker is convinced that the master only through “intelligible rhythms” (rationabilibus numeris) (which, as we remember, is not from himself, but from the “highest art”) is able to produce “sensible rhythms” (sensuales numeros), which are present in his skill, and through the senses - the moving ones with which he sets his members in motion, and finally, with their help, produce, say, from wood, visible forms measured at intervals of a certain space. But, as we must understand, the nature of things, subject only to the divine will, without any mediation by subjectivity and its “feeling rhythms,” is capable of creating a tree from earth and other elements, for there is no shoot that does not take root from the seed and grow in accordance with certain rhythms, and, in the end, does not bear fruit or the seed itself 123. However, the idea expressed by him in the section devoted to the beauty of images (de pulchritudine simulacrorum) of his work “On Eighty-Three Different Questions” should have served to even greater conviction. Here he argues that in nature there are already bodies of living beings that are formed from the elements of this world, and, moreover, they are much more perfect than the same figures and images that are the result of imitation in the works of mortal artists (artifices homines). In addition, not all the rhythmicity of the human body (numerositas humani corporis) is found in the statue, and even what is in it is transmitted there through the soul of the sculptor by that Wisdom, which shapes the human body itself in accordance with nature 124. The passages we have cited seem to indicate quite eloquently both that finite self-consciousness, our subjectivity, I, i.e. artifex homo (and not the abstract, otherworldly artifex Deus 125), is removed from what Augustine calls ars, “art,” and that man is not its creator. That is why, in order to contemplate the eternal rhythm, the numerical sphere in its purity (ut numerum sempiternum videas), he pronounces the verdict: “Transcend also the soul of the artist” (Transcende ergo et animum artificis) 126. As a consequence of this kind of metaphysical “pessimism” 133, music as an “almost divine science” (pene divina ista disciplina) 134, like the science of numbers, is denied by Augustine to have the meaning of a self-conscious activity. In the essay “On Christian Science,” he, without any hesitation, declares: “With regard to the science of numbers (and/or rhythms - A.T.), it is clear to the last idiot that it was not established by people, but, perhaps, sought and discovered (Iam vero numeri disciplina cuilibet tardissimo clarum est quod non sit ab hominibus instituta, sed potius indagata et inventa) 135. But why? Because no one can arbitrarily make, for example, so that three times three is not nine. Consequently, whether numbers are considered in themselves, or are applied to the laws of images, sounds, or some other movements, they have unshakable rules that are not at all humanly established. Augustine's position is very clear. However, the fundamental significance of one apparently “nondescript” detail eludes him. Having brought our study of Augustinian rhythm to the present moment, we have reached the point at which numeri is defined as a logical, i.e., as a metaphysical or ontological principle of all special, finite being. We also found out that this logical in the Augustinian doctrine is within itself the true integrity of the idea, which nevertheless lacks this completeness in its self-realization, in the way it knows itself, which is why, despite all its essential significance, it is not yet a full-fledged subject. Because of this deficiency in thinking, the concept of rhythm, which continues to remain only its substance until it reveals itself to itself in its own form, is forced in the process of speaking to make the famous Cartesian larvatus prodeo its motto. Metaphysical substantialism, therefore, is a mask, a guise that the concept has to try on in the representation it plays out, so that every moment of it, every feature of it, realizes itself, receives a role and is established in its meaning. But since as a result of this drama of the concept its true subject is exposed, which in reality is the single personality of its author, actor and spectator, the final interpretation of this work, action, spectacle arises. That is why our concept of rhythm, of course, cannot be in its immediacy the way Augustine knew it. But for the same reason, we not only have the right, but also must, in our own light, present how his science is defined, and proceed in the study of its content from our principle. This is all the more necessary because in its totality the principle of Augustine’s metaphysics of rhythm is preserved as a moment. As a consequence, we propose to consider and classify the levels of his rhythmic doctrine not in an abstract-metaphysical way, as the Hippoman himself did, but in accordance with how the logical as a whole distinguishes and classifies itself in the forms of its reality. The logical becomes this concreteness only by putting differences between itself and itself, 138 by becoming different in relation to itself. Only through this externality does it first arise for itself, become its own object and be known, realizing its concept. Nature is the first aspect of the reality of the logical. She is the form of his existence outside of himself, in which he does not yet know himself. The logical that knows itself is the spirit, which, being directly determined by nature, is initially a “screaming” discord, a dissonance with itself, which constitutes its finitude. The finite spirit therefore breaks down into the opposite forms of subjective and objective, “individual” and “society”, only formal freedom, on the one hand, and its substantiality, not brought to developed consciousness, on the other. But since an individual person, through education (παιδεία, cultura, Bildung), realizes his concept, making freedom real, the existing existence of this freedom - the world - through history strives to develop its consciousness to a concept. As we know, the original categories of nature are space and time, and time acts as the truth of space (i.e., space becomes time), since it is in it that the negativity of space that it has, being defined 139, is removed. But since in time the opposite moments held together sublate themselves, it itself turns out, as Hegel puts it, to be a “joint fall” (das Zusammenfallen) into indifference, into outsideness, that is, space. Since the negative definition of space, which is a point, ceases to be such only in itself, but through total negativity, which is time, becomes posited and internally concrete, we receive the category of place. Finally, the place itself, taken in certainty, has its own negativity, which means another place and a transition. This passing and new emergence of space in time and time in space, in which time is posited spatially as place, and space as temporal, is movement 140. Let us begin with the rhythms that must have the most abstract “mechanical” definition, namely those that Augustine calls “temporal” (temporales numeri) and “rhythms of place” (locales numeri). If we do not lose sight of the context in which these forms of rhythm were given, then it will immediately become clear that the interpretation of the Hippo is very chaotic and not consistent with what they should be according to their logical certainty. Augustine argues that “temporal rhythms” necessarily precede the “rhythms of place” (locales numeros temporales numeri antecedant necesse est), for, as he resonates, there is no type of plant that does not, by certain measures of time, replace the seed and take root, sprout, strive to the sky, unfold leaves, grow stronger, bear fruit, or seed again 142. At first glance, this may seem not unreasonable, because logically the category of time, as a more abstract one, precedes the category of place. However, in reality, Augustine’s use of the expression “temporal rhythms” in the “pure” meaning of the concept “time” is not justified. In general, it must be stated that Augustine does not show any noticeable interest in what concerns the rhythm of “finite mechanics”. This is understandable because he recognizes as actually rhythmic, measured a movement that reveals itself as a system, a totality, i.e. one about which we can say that it “as if dominates” (quasi dominari), since it is accomplished for its own sake (propter se ipse) 146, and that means it is for itself, returns to itself from its determination. The primary expression of this kind of movement in nature is “celestial mechanics,” which, as we know, is the favorite theme of all ancient, medieval and even modern reflections on music, 147 filled with wonderful poetic images in this regard. However, let us pay attention to something typical in the classification of natural elements, which will further convince us of its metaphorical nature. That element, which in the books “On Music” should have been called fire, receives the name “the highest in this (i.e. physical - A.T.) kind of beauty” (or the highest species) (summa in hoc genere species) 158, and like fire it is called “sky” (coelum) in the treatise “On the book of Genesis literally” 159. Moreover, an essential sign of this nature is seen in the fact that it manifests itself as the “highest revolution”, which is limited to the entire universe of visible bodies 160. But in this way it turns out that physical elements are not hierarchized in accordance with physical certainty itself, i.e. finite physicality, but, on the contrary, in accordance with the extent to which they lose it and are “raised” to pure mechanics. The first stage of the organic is the geological, mineral, which forms the appearance, the general structure of life 164. Regarding its process, we were unable to find in Augustine any clear insight into its rhythm. Therefore, to fill this omission, let us allow ourselves to cite the provisions of the congenially thinking Aristide Quintilian in this regard. Thus, in the process of the life of the Earth, this Neoplatonist identifies the inherent moments of the atmospheric and marine processes and establishes their musical certainty, which is why they turn out to be reliable evidence that earthly life reveals in itself sympathy for the heavenly world and in its generation is in such a relationship with it that it “goes hand in hand.” In particular, these “evidence” are seasons, climatic diversity, movements of water masses, and weather changes. Aristides, of course, also includes here the ebb and flow of the sea that occurs in accordance with a certain course and phases of the moon 165. Moreover, the penetrating rhythm should be revealed in the plant and animal kingdoms of living nature. The fact is that in a geological whole, which, according to Hegel’s expression, represents only a “bone skeleton” (Knochengerüst) 167 of organic matter, which can be considered as dead, its features, differences, “members” turn out to exist for themselves only formally, which is why this whole, as their subject, does not reflect from them back into itself, which means that its own process turns out to be external to itself. On the contrary, the plant is already unfolding its parts in such a way that they themselves become subjects, which is why it is the beginning of reflection, but cannot yet return from this multiplicity of subjects, their opposition to each other, into itself as a single subject, as a totality, preserved for itself in its dismemberment. By doing this, she affirms herself in her virtues (which, by the way, from an Augustinian point of view should be assessed as non-sensual “beauties of the soul” 175), ensures health for the body, and salvation for herself. Moreover, Augustine even comes to the idea that everything that is ugly and sinful in our soul turns out to be beautiful and ordered in itself, the rhythm of which we could perceive and appreciate if the whole circle of “divine providence” (divina providentia) arose for us, i.e. that necessity, that whole of which the bad is a part 176. Augustine speaks no less characteristically about the rhythmic certainty of human life in the “socio-political” or “world” plan. Thus, speaking in “On the City of God” about the Psalmist as a man educated musically (vir in canticis eruditus), and, moreover, in such a way as to be carried away not by the sensual side of music, but to see in it a metaphysical purpose to serve God, it is not by chance that he connects this topic with the state structure, noting that the measured consonance of various sounds based on a rational attitude (diversorum sonorum rationabilis moderatusque concentus) inspires the idea of the unity of a well-ordered civil society, united by the consent of the differentiated 177. In it, the bishop of Hippo, referring to the divinely inspired words of the prophet Isaiah (in accordance with the Latin translation of the Septuagint) that God produces the world rhythmically or in accordance with number (qui profert numerose saeculum) (Isaiah 40:26), develops the idea that music was given to people from the bounties of the Lord precisely so that they would realize this great thought. After all, if even a writer of poetry knows how to distribute lengths according to words, so that when read, a poetic composition would sound most beautiful, then all the more so God, whose wisdom incomparably surpasses all kinds of arts, did not fail to make sure that all the periods of time in which people are born and die, which are like syllables and words that make up the shares of this age, have in this, as it were, an amazing song of the transitory, no shorter or longer sound than is required in advance. known and definite rhythmic proportionality (modulatio) 180. The problem, according to Augustine, lies in the short duration of human existence, which is why people are not able to form in their imagination the actual circumstances of previous centuries and other peoples, which they did not experience (sensu non valent causas contexere saeculorum priorum aliarumque gentium, quas experti non sunt) 181. However, according to the thinker, rhythmic “art” 182 helps to understand how these diverse parts are combined into a single whole, which thereby also turns out to be the principle of comprehending the truth of world history. In general, what Augustine sets out in his rhythmic concept regarding the certainties of the finite spirit consists of an undoubted “consanguineous” relationship with the general metaphysical attitude of the ancient vision of music. To illustrate, we will cite just a few obvious statements (from the work of Aristide, which has become an indispensable subject of our references). Thus, he points out that everything that is considered in accordance with the number is consonant. For example, if you wish to contemplate in the soul the middle term between the rational and the appetitive parts, you will find the proportion of both in the passionate; if you contemplate the state structures, you will be surprised to discover that between the Council and the people there should be military ἐθέλοις, εὑϱήσεις λογισμοῦ καὶ ἐπιθυμίας μέσην τὴν κατὰ τὸ θυμικὸν ἀμϕοῖν ἀναλογίαν. θεωϱήσειας, θαυμάσεις ὡς τοῦ μὲν βουλευτικοῦ καὶ δημοτικοῦ μέσον τάττεται τὸ πολεμικόν) 183 . In the same vein, he “numerologizes” the virtues that were classic throughout antiquity (which, let us recall, Augustine also discusses in his treatise “On Music”), which, from the point of view of the Greek writer, turn out to be “similar to numbers” (πϱὸς ἀϱιθμοὺς ὁμοιότητας). In his interpretation, prudence (ϕϱόνησις) corresponds to the monad, since the simplest knowledge of each person is monadic; courage (ἀνδϱεία 184) - to the dyad, for it shows pressure and transition from one to another; moderation (σωϕϱοσύνη) – to the triad, as it brings proportionality between deficiency and excess; justice (δικαιοσύνη) - to the four, because it is the first that shows equality and consists of equals multiplied by equals 185 . The formalism of the stated points is that they indifferently define both spirit and nature, as if the spirit should not have its own internal, i.e. spiritual rhythm. We therefore believe that such rhythmic indifference is caused by a lack of comprehension of spiritual nature as a whole, which is reflected in the “uncollectedness” and even “looseness” of linguistic expression in the explication of the concept of spirit. Therefore, we cannot fix Augustine’s methodically, conceptually drawn distinction between soul and spirit, although he was aware of the problem of how to designate the “human soul” 186 . So, to express the concept of spirit, Augustine uses at least the following set of words: anima, animus, spiritus, mens. All these terms are synonymous, although they can take on different connotations. In his work “On Eighty-Three Different Questions,” Augustine notes that sometimes, when speaking of the anima, it is thought together with the mind (cum mente), as when it is said that a person consists of soul and body (cum dicimus hominem ex anima et corpore constare). When they talk about it, excluding the mind, it is understood from the actions that we have in common with animals, because animals lack reason, which is the proper sign of the mind (bestiae namque carent ratione, quae mentis est propria) 187 . The thinker also has a special note regarding the animus. In his work “On the Trinity,” he reports that some authors writing in Latin, by the name animus, distinguish what is best in man and what is not in cattle, from anima, which is also inherent in cattle 188. In addition, in the conversation “On the Magnitude of the Soul,” Augustine even gives a formal definition of animus, according to which it is “a certain substance involved in the mind (rationis particeps) and capable of governing the body” 189. Finally, such an authoritative classicist as J. O’Daly, in his work “Augustine’s Philosophy of Spirit,” insists that animus, unlike anima, cannot be used when referring to irrational beings 190 . Regarding the spiritus, the Holy Father speaks in such a way that he connects it with mens, and, on the contrary, correlates mens with the spiritus, contrasting it with the corporeal. Thus, in the treatise “On the Trinity,” Augustine, speaking about love, asserts that if it is some kind of substance, then it, of course, is not a body, but a spirit, and the mind is also not a body, but a spirit (et si aliqua substantia est amor, non est utique corpus, sed spiritus; nec mens corpus, sedus est), and then completely speaks of them as identical definitions (mens vero aut spiritus) 191. As for the relationship between the terms anima and spiritus, it is the subject of special consideration by Augustine in his work “On the Soul and Its Origin.” Here the philosopher would seem to note that there is a difference between anima and spiritus, i.e. between soul and spirit, since he recognizes that it is the spiritus that is “the understanding in us” (rationale nostrum), thanks to which the anima becomes capable of judging and understanding. Its harmony resides in the “between worlds” and remains silent, since it does not acquire embodiment, does not become a subject 196. Be that as it may, it is in the development of oneself as a subject, self-conscious integrity that the realization of the concept of spirit lies. That is why we must move from considering rhythm in its final form, where it does not yet “hear” itself, does not know itself as a spirit (does not enjoy itself and does not understand itself), to its self-conscious rhythm in the forms of art and science 197 . 4. Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm in art The starting point of our education, the education of the West, the first form of which was Greek culture as the foundation of antiquity as a whole, is beauty, comprehended and created in art. However, ever since the ancients began to think about their origin, they, trying to penetrate into its essence, crossed the border of existing existence and immediately found themselves in a negative attitude towards the spontaneity of beauty, towards its determination in the form of sensuality. That is why that region of the spirit, which today we call art, ceased to be for them the sanctuary that it was until the philosophical church of metaphysics was erected. Art was destined to lose its independent position in relation to it, because the culture of metaphysics either eliminated its activity, which led the spirit into the realm of ghosts and prevented it from achieving its substantial goal, or turned it into its propylaea 198. Moreover, it is necessary not to forget the fact that ancient thinkers, both Greek and Roman, gave the term “art” (τέχνη, ars) a meaning very different from how we understand it in our time. If for us art is a rational activity that satisfies the spiritual need to comprehend the universal, which is carried out in the form of sensory contemplation and from the side of this form is opposed to scientific knowledge, carried out in the form of thinking, then for the ancients it was, perhaps, on the contrary, identified with science (ἐπιστήμη, disciplina). Without going into the nuances of the relationship between “art” and “science” in antiquity as varieties of science itself, we note for ourselves as fundamental only that Augustine himself, in a treatise devoted to the problems of rhythm, indifferently uses the words ars and disciplina to denote the objectivity of supersensible musical foundations (rationes musicae) 199, recognizable not by the ear, but by the mind (quod non aurium sed mentis est proprium), not a reasonable opinion (non irrationabili opinione), but “true and reliable reason” (vera et certa ratione) 200. Augustine limits the same activity of the spirit, which art is for us, to the framework of artistic experience in the aspect of its “irrationality”, since in such a certainty the rhythmicity of, say, sound movements produced by lyre players and flute players does not at all exceed the rhythmicity of nightingale trills. In other words, behind the appearance, the illusory nature of the image-rhythms of “our” art, generated by its connection with sensuality, the thinker cannot discern anything other than unconsciousness on the part of their form and imitation on the part of the content. That is why, as a metaphysician, Augustine strives to free art from the veil of this imaginary finite existence and establish it in the element of the imperishable. As a result, art for him is only logical. But since such logical is deprived of the certainty of real self-consciousness, since the integral human subject is excluded from his substantiality, it turns out to be abstract-rational, “fallen into unconsciousness” regarding what in its appearance (without which it is unreal) is mediated by sensory consciousness. Anything that arouses the slightest suspicion of connections with sensuality must be immediately arrested and expelled from the field of art. But because of this, its very concept is deprived of the necessary content, because for us art is the universal spirit, which includes the totality of the subject, I, and therefore not only theoretical activity in the form of thinking, but also such forms of its intelligentsia as contemplation and representation. Based on this, we must consider rhythm in art not as it is defined for Augustine, but as it appears for us, i.e. according to its concept. True, we should also remember that a reasonable consideration of his concept of rhythm must take into account how the area of ​​artistic rhythms is defined for him, since it is this hypostasis that constitutes the starting point of the historical peculiarity of this philosophical problematic that we are studying (otherwise, the historical-philosophical soil we are cultivating will disappear from under our feet, and we will fall into metaphysical schematization, unforgivably indifferent to the subjectivity of its subject). Since in his vision of rhythms in art the theoretical aspect is most explicit, the basis for their division for us will be the concept of the intelligentsia itself, the peculiarity of which, i.e. division, and posits the corresponding stages of contemplation (rhythms of sensuality), representation (rhythms of recollection, imagination and memory) and thinking (judging rhythms of “natural feeling”). The noted milestones should be recognized as their own authorities in the content of Augustinian interpretation of artistic rhythm. At the same time, it must not be forgotten that the metaphysical methodology of Augustine’s presentation of these moments is only a perverse echo of the rhythm that they represent in their conceptual order. 4.1. The rhythm of artistic contemplation Since art is the universal spirit contemplating itself, and contemplation has the certainty of feeling as a side of its immediacy, then we will begin our consideration of how artistic rhythm is realized in the Augustinian concept with sensuality, and the subject of our interest is not “sensory rhythms”, as they are presented in Augustinian theory, but the rhythm of sensuality itself. At the same time, we must not lose sight of the fact that sensuality in artistic contemplation does not have the status of sovereignty, but is only a sublated moment in the spiritual whole that determines it, which is why the sensuality of art is only an appearance. First of all, let us ask ourselves the question of what is the subject of feeling in contemplation, for in reality this is a question about the rhythm of sensibility as a whole. This problem is also relevant because the thinker leaves a certain space for interpretations (sometimes very unexpected and critical) of his understanding by historians of philosophy and theologians 201 . At first glance, Augustine's concept of the rhythm of sensuality is quite simple. Take, for example, the sense of hearing. If someone says something in a rhythmic voice, then the hearing will be brought into a certain rhythmic state. This means that this state is possible thanks to its producer (effector) - sound. Then the feeling can be likened to a trace imprinted on water, which can be formed there only during the influence of the body on it 202. Summarizing this “empirical” passage, I. Choquette concludes that for the holy father, the subject of feeling can feel only on the condition that the object of feeling is presented to him 203 . But then the question arises as to whether the so directly affected subject of feeling (spirit) can be its true subject, being passive in this state, because the feeling itself in this case receives the name “bodily feeling”, and if quite literally, then even “body feeling” (sensus corporis) 204. According to domestic researcher I.V. Popova, Augustine in his essay “On the Trinity” “overcomes” the Neoplatonic dependence in epistemology and gives us reason to believe that it is the corporeal object that is active in sensuality, since it “informs” the sense, so that the latter is in the same relation to it as matter is to form 205. Moreover, the Russian theologian, to complete his argument, cites a “direct statement” allegedly made by the Holy Father: “The body, this lower creature, gives birth to sensation in the higher creature, in the spirit” 206. However, the Latin prototype of the proposed maxim in Russian has an excellent meaning. This is what Augustine himself says: “Ex ultima quippe, id est corporea creatura, qua superior est anima, in ipsa anima fit per sensum corporis” 207. In the essay “On Music,” the thinker quite definitely makes it clear to us that since the soul is in no way lower than the body, and any matter is lower than the master, the soul in no way can be matter subordinate to the body-master, in which it would form rhythms 210. Quite the contrary, for Augustine it is the corporeal that is “matter,” which is why in reality it is not the body that affects the soul, but the soul “acts from it and in it, as if subjugated by its divine dominion” (facere de illo et in illo tanquam subjecto divinitus dominationi suae) 211. For us, this means that the spirit of the sensuality of contemplation receives all its content not from the outside, as is usually imagined, but from itself, because the so-called bodily influence produced on the form of “bodily feeling” is nothing more than the immanent activity of the spirit itself. Now we must ask ourselves what serves as the principle of difference in the rhythm of sensibility, i.e. How does Augustine's soul produce its sensory determination? In the immediacy of sensuality there is still no definite content for the spirit, since the intelligentsia (spirit) has not yet heeded it, because it has not yet harnessed itself to the indifference of its element. Meanwhile, Augustine himself notes that for the soul, when it feels, its movements, actions or influences (that is, everything that constitutes the certainty of its sensory relationship) “do not remain unknown” 213. This is due to the fact that the intelligentsia distinguishes itself in its totality from this immediacy, separates it from itself, positing it as negative in relation to itself, but thanks to this it now accepts it as its own. It is characteristic that Augustine also points to the need for the soul for its definiteness in sensuality to appear negatively, or, as he himself says, for it to be applied “with some - let it be so expressed - otherness” (nonnulla, ut ita dicam, alteritate) 214. This triune concreteness of intentionality is expounded by Augustine as follows. If we first take visual contemplation as an example, then, firstly, there is sensual objectivity itself, which can be seen (it constitutes the objective moment of sensuality) and which, as the thinker believes, existed before it was seen. Secondly, there is a vision that did not exist before the objectivity presented to sensation was felt (the moment of subjectivity). Thirdly, and finally, there is something that holds, occupies (detinet) the visual sense in a visible object - the tension (attention) of the soul (intentio animi) 217. Otherwise, auditory contemplation is unrealizable, as, for example, when we, thinking about something else, do not hear our interlocutors 220. But since for Augustine the spiritual is recognized as “excellent” only as a substance, objectivity, and not as a self-conscious subject, it turns out that although he affirms the dominance of the spirit over nature, the soul over the body, this dominance turns out to be posited not in the form of a self-knowing determinacy, but, on the contrary, in the form of a moment that does not know itself. But such domination is abstract and unreal. Therefore, the real definiteness of the spirit turns out to be external to him and does not have the meaning of his own position. That is why Augustine is forced to state that in the three components of sensory contemplation we mentioned, not only a difference is evident, but also a different nature (In his igitur tribus, non solum est manifesta distinctio, sed etiam discreta natura) 221. He, therefore, cannot understand that sensually perceived rhythm, both in its being and in its knowledge, i.e. both objectively and subjectively, there is a single “nature” of the creativity of the spirit, which is first realized through its intentionality. Obviously, on this false basis, he places in his classification the responding rhythms that we have already cited, expressing the subjective moment, the moment of consciousness in sensory contemplation, below the so-called driving rhythms (progressores numeri), which take place in the unconscious (imperceptible) movement of the soul in the body 227. However, no matter what metaphysical transformations intentionality undergoes in the Augustinian concept, we still, based on its content, recognize that it is through it that the spirit produces definiteness in feeling and makes the feeling itself definite. In its conscious form, intentionality, as we have seen, is attention, and with its help sensibility becomes internally distinguished into moments of subjectivity and objectivity. However, in attention this difference itself is not yet posited, not realized as a difference, which is why Augustine notes in the psychology of intention precisely that it connects differing moments of feeling 228. But the spirit cannot stop at such incompleteness and must move on to the development of this difference, i.e. so that the subject and object of feeling acquire a real character for him. The discrimination of this difference is achieved in contemplation itself. However, the considerations expressed in this work are interesting because in them he presents a hierarchy of special forms of sensibility, constructed on a metaphysical basis. The fact is that they are hierarchized by him depending on the fact that to the extent that this or that feeling is more subtle in the bodily nature, the closer it turns out to be to the spiritual nature (Quanto autem quidque subtilius est in natura corporali, tanto est vicinius naturae spiritali) 232. In accordance with this thought, Augustine, quite in line with the Neoplatonic tradition, considers fire to be the most “spiritual” physical element, which he conceives as a substantial element that penetrates the other elements 233. In its “pure” form, fire is light that spreads through the eyes, which is why vision is considered the primary (as the most bodily) sense. Augustine considers air, interpreted as the element of hearing, to be the second most “spiritual” element. It is extremely remarkable that in his hierarchy the Hippo opposes these first two elements to the rest, i.e. water and earth, characterized by “passive corporeality” (patiendi corpulentiam). What is the peculiarity of contemplation through sight and hearing? As the Holy Father himself admits in a letter to Volusian, these forms of sensuality contain a lot of “hidden” (latebrosum), so that they represent an “amazing question” (afferunt mirabilem quaestionem) 236. The fact is that, according to Augustine, the other three senses are felt, as he puts it, in themselves (apud seipsos sentiunt), while with the help of sight and hearing the soul either “feels where it is” (sentiat ubi non vivit), or “is where it is not” (vivat ubi non est) 237. We believe that the fog of these rather ambiguous expressions will dissipate if we interpret them in the sense that, in contrast to touch, smell and taste, sight and hearing are such sensory forms in which the spirit is freed from its direct relationship to objectivity. As we know, the immediacy of the sensory, both in the moment of objectivity and in the moment of subjectivity, is determined by singularity. But perhaps even more insightful is Augustine’s observation that it is through sight and hearing that the spirit manifests an attitude towards its objectivity, which in our time Kant’s genius would designate (which later became a philosophical meme) with the term “disinterested pleasure” (des uninteressierten Wohlgefallen). The fact is that, as the Hipponese notes, in other feelings the pleasure that the spirit can experience is not such in the proper sense of the word (that is, not pure, not free, as I. Kant would put it), but only to the extent that it is caused by it for a certain purpose, which is not itself. In the case of sight and hearing, Augustine is convinced, the pleasure achieved is called by its proper name (vocatur proprio jam nomine) 243. Why? But because in visual and auditory forms the artistically beautiful itself appears, which is free from any “interest”, i.e. a goal that is final in nature. Being logical, the beautiful in its expression must be an “enlightened”, spiritual sensibility. This is only the appearance of sensuality and, thus, it is not substantiality, but subjectivity that is precisely formed by the contemplation of sight and hearing. Let us recall that as a result, an image of objectivity appears in consciousness, while it is precisely this that constitutes the original meaning of the word “rhythm”. Consequently, everything rhythmic in artistic contemplation has a certainty either of vision, when the eyes reveal “reasonable proportionality of parts” (congruentia partium rationabilis), or of hearing, when we talk about “reasonable harmonious consonance and reasonably composed measured singing” (quando rationabilem concentum dicimus cantumque numerosum rationabiliter esse compositum) 244. 4.2. Rhythm of artistic performance However, precisely insofar as this universality does not remain merely an abstract form, indifferent to its content, it realizes itself as an independent universality, as an organism that digests its premise - sensory intuition - into itself, and communicates its reality to itself in the image. The image (imago) is the initial determination of the intelligentsia in representation (memory). As a result, Augustine considers it necessary to divide representation (memory) into two different regions: into figurative memory as the memory of the sensory, which, in his opinion, we even share with animals, and “pure”, purely intellectual memory 254. Based on this division, he, of course, believes it is necessary to avoid the “darkness of bodily images” (caligines imaginum corporalium) 255, because they interfere with the achievement of the goal - the knowledge of truth, which in a metaphysical interpretation cannot in any way be associated with the form of sensory consciousness 256. But in his recognition of the superiority of the spiritual nature of the image over sensory corporeality, Augustine reaches the point of paradox. Thus, although he points out, quite in accordance with the Neoplatonic attitude, the inadmissibility of believing that the body can produce anything in the spirit, as if the latter were subject to the first as matter producing principle, and, therefore, that the spirit itself produces its own images 261, we cannot forget that images are called by Augustine “blows” and “wounds” (plagis vulneribusque) inflicted on the spirit through bodily feelings 262. And in fact, if you follow the Hippo, you can only be surprised, as the Mentor advises the Student in the dialogue “On Music,” that the body is capable of producing something in the soul 263 . As a result, the entire rhythm of figurative representation, which for Augustine belongs to the field of memory, necessarily shares the revealed duality of Augustine’s metaphysical approach. On the one hand, the rhythms of images formed through sensuality are an independent genus, existing separately from others (i.e., the rhythms of contemplation), but on the other, since they turn out to be imprinted by the preceding ones, according to the notorious rule of preference of the producer to the produced, they must be placed almost at the very bottom of the rhythmic classification, according to which they are lower not only than intellectual rhythms, but also “moving rhythms” having sensual certainty (progressores). numeri) and “rhythms that respond” (occursores numeri) 266. In other words, what we call thinking, and what Augustine classifies as intellectual, lacks a real process. Meanwhile, thinking is real only when it proves itself as a process of subjectivity, and therefore presupposes an “illusory” form of figurative representation as a necessary moment of its genesis. What is striking and at the same time quite expected is that the development of universality as a designated process of subjectivity is definitely present in the content of the Augustinian understanding of the rhythm of figurative representation, although the Hippo bishop is aware of it in all its specificity. First of all, the universality of the image manifests itself in what turns out to be the negativity of sensory contemplation. The fact that Augustine compares memory to a stomach in which food loses its taste 269 tells us that in the image sensuality is deprived of its former certainty. But this means that in the image its content ceases to be directly related to the space and time of contemplation and is immersed in the interior of the intelligentsia, henceforth it acquires its “matter”. That is why Augustine does not find a better definition of time as just “the extension of the soul” (distentio animi) 270, and calls memory itself “as if the light (i.e. matter, environment, universality - A.T.) of time intervals” (quasi lumen temporalium spatiorum) 271. Moreover, since the universality of the content of the spirit first receives concrete existence, becomes real in memory, figurative representation, it is in it, in non-sensual contemplation, that it realizes its concreteness and is totalized. In other words, without an image, a representation (or memory, as the Hippo prefers to put it), the intelligentsia in contemplation cannot have any definite content. Augustine was undoubtedly captured by the pathos of this thought and more than once became its oracle. In the last (twelfth) book of the essay “On the Book of Genesis Literally,” he sets out the relationship between the image and direct contemplation as follows: “... if the spirit in itself did not immediately form the image of the sound perceived by the ear and did not retain it in memory, then it would not be known whether the second syllable was the second, for the first, which touched the ear and sounded out, would no longer exist; but then all the meaning of the statement would be lost, all the pleasantness of the singing, and, finally, every bodily movement in our actions would be disrupted...” 272. universality), without which it could not exist, memory 274 is absolutely necessary. Augustine, therefore, consolidates the tendency of ancient thinking in the understanding that the rhythm of sensory contemplation would not be consistent if it were not determined by the integrity of the rhythm in the definiteness of representation, the existence of which is the image. By the way, it is not difficult to realize that in relation to contemplation and image there is a relationship that is inverse in nature. It is noted by M. Moreau in the article “Memory and Duration,” dedicated to the Augustinian problems we are studying: “A strange reversal of psychological data! The image, which has sensuality as its condition, becomes the condition of sensuality itself” 275. However, there is nothing “strange” from a logical point of view, since contemplation is only the immediate determination of the intelligentsia, which is substantially determined by its interiority, subjectivity, the first realization of which is the image of representation. However, representation is, of course, not only an image as existing existence and consciousness. Since the spirit, the intelligentsia, is the subject of its determinations and, as a totality, also their being-in-itself, the image, as held within, no longer exists and is unconscious. Calling to comprehend the intelligentsia as a concrete universal, Hegel compares it to “a night shaft in which is held a whole world of infinitely many images and ideas that are not brought to consciousness” 276 . It is this aspect of preserving or retaining the image, i.e. unconsciousness of figurative representation, was deeply “felt” by Augustine, so that he supplies the memory with a considerable number of very characteristic expressions. In the sixth book, “On Music,” he speaks of it as “hidden repositories” (secreti reconditi) 277, and in the tenth book of “Confessions” he dresses it in the epithets of “secret and ineffable depths” (secreti atque ineffabiles sinus) and “treasury” (thesaurus) 278. But this is precisely where the question arises regarding how the images sleeping in the night of the spirit awaken and ascend to its consciousness. The problem is that the moments of the representing intelligentsia - the present image and its unconsciousness - are directly different, so that the first has the certainty of external, and the second internal. As a consequence, their connection (unity), although generally the own, “organic” and, therefore, internally necessary activity of the intelligentsia, initially appears not as free (i.e., the spirit does not voluntarily yet produce the contemplation of the image in itself), but as “mechanical,” random, conditioned by an external “impulse” in the form of direct sensory contemplation. In this way the recognition of the image is accomplished, and, taking this last point into account, we obtain the fullness of the representing spirit at its first stage, which is generally called recollection. In other words, such recognition [of representations in contemplation] is recognition and recollection (talis agnitio, recognitio est et recordatio) 283 . So, we find in Augustine all three moments that make up the concept of memory (image, retention, recognition), which means that the rhythm of memory (recordabiles numeri) in the Hippo concept is posited in the fullness of its structure. The completeness of this rhythm is also its sublation and transition to the rhythm of imagination. The fact is that in recognition the spirit certifies itself as an existent, since it recognizes the interiority, subjectivity and universality of the content of the image in the external, “objective” individual contemplation consistent with it. Thus, in order to be defined in representation, the intelligentsia no longer needs the behavior mentioned above, i.e. now she is free in her determination and independently imagines herself. The category of imagination is undoubtedly fundamental not only in considering the rhythm of artistic representation, but also in the general movement of its metaphysics, and it should be recognized that Augustine pays very close attention to it. Nevertheless, we are forced to note that the thinker often gets lost “in that whole forest of images” (in hac tota imaginum silva) 284, which for him consists of the moments of this form of spirit. For the most part, these wanderings are due to terminological sloppiness and arbitrariness, which, however, was a completely conscious position expressing his reluctance as a metaphysician to engage in serious study of categorical vocabulary in the area of ​​interest to us. Augustine liked to repeat that if the essence of the matter is clear, then there is no need to worry about words, since all meaning is in the thing, and names are established by convention, and not by nature (De vocabulis quidem nihil satagas; res in potestate est: placito enim, non natura imponuntur) 285. As a result of this carelessness in relation to the thesaurus of the imagination, several versions of its structure are found in Augustinian reflections. For this reason, it seems to us that, following the spirit and not the letter of his concept, we must give a generalized statement of his views on the imagination. In order for this generalization to become possible, we need to preface it with a brief presentation of the aspects of the concept of imagination, as it is seen from a speculative point of view. First of all, we point out that the successive stages of the rise of the spirit in the imagination are reproduction, association and creativity (fantasy). As a reproducing imagination, the spirit itself (voluntarily, without the assistance of contemplation) determines images so that they enter into existence, which is how imagination generally differs from memory. But such activity of the intelligentsia in the imagination is so far only of a formal nature, because it does not manifest itself in any way in relation to the content of the images. Meanwhile, their content in the imagination correlates them with each other and elevates them to universal ideas, thereby being associative. Therefore, if in memory there was a subsuming of intuition under the idea in general (a stored image), then in association the spirit subsumes the individual idea under the universal. However, the intelligentsia in association is not only a universal form, but also a specific, specific subjectivity with its own content. Owning the volume of images belonging to her, she freely connects and subsumes it under her inherent content, i.e. transforms it, becoming fantasy (productive imagination) 286. This is the rhythm of the imaginative spirit, and we now need to trace how it is reflected in Augustinian thought. All the more remarkable will be the contrast between the reasonableness of the content of this observation and the metaphorical way of its relation to this form of representation (but more on this elsewhere). As for the reproductive imagination as such, Augustine does not have a term that he would use exclusively to designate it. As a rule, what we mean when we talk about the moment of reproduction in the imagination is called by the Hipponian with the very ambiguous word “fantasy” (φαντασία), borrowed from Greek. True, Augustine himself can use this word to designate other aspects of the intelligentsia, including here not only all moments of imagination, but even memory. In his treatise “On Music,” he gives a rather abstract definition of “fantasy,” referring to it as “any movement of the soul retained by memory, performed in response to influences undergone by the body” 289. According to it, it is impossible to distinguish between remembered rhythms and those “movements of the soul” that should characterize the imagination. However, despite this terminological problematicity, we are quite capable of isolating the reproducing form and considering its components. Thus, in the essay “On the Trinity,” he, for example, provides us with the use of “fantasy” already with the presence of the desired meaning of reproduction: “When I want to talk about Carthage, I look within myself for what to say, and I find in myself the fantasy (phantasiam) of Carthage; I found it through the body, i.e. through a bodily sense, since I was present in this city with my body and saw it, felt it and retained it in my memory so as to find its name in myself when I wanted to talk about it” 290. In this passage, it should be noted that “fantasy” does not simply appear as a stored image of sensuality, involuntarily emerging into consciousness in the event of suitable contemplation. In fact, it is the result of an intentional, conscious discovery, i.e. reproduction activities. In another passage on the reproducing imagination, which clarifies its structure with greater certainty, Augustine describes “phantasy” as the form in which an image appears, previously existing in memory, and now residing in the “eye of the soul” imagined by memory 291. “Fatasia,” therefore, is here the result of a directed “extraction” of an image from memory into consciousness. It is noteworthy that here Augustine again speaks of “kindred” relations and notes that the image by which the “fantasy” of the conscious (phantasia cogitantis) is imagined is not at all the “true parent” of it as a “true child,” for between them the activity of the intelligentsia is the mentioned “gaze of the soul.” If Augustine had fully developed the idea that as we move inside the spirit and with the complexity of subjectivity we acquire a truer form of consciousness and objectivity, he would have reliably recognized the “superiority” of the rhythms of “fantasy” as a reproductive imagination over the rhythms in the certainty of images stored in memory. But, as we know, Augustine was a proponent of that point of view that we call metaphysical substantialism, and in accordance with it he was forced to constantly roll back to the recognition that unreflected determination has a substantial meaning. So in this case, he has to make a reservation that in no way should one take “fantasies” for reality, for they are not such either as subject intellectual principles or as perceived sensory objects (bodies). Since Augustine does not know the universal as a process, he does not notice that “fantasy” as reproduction, repetition, imitation erases “random features” in conscious rhythm and thereby allows its universality to emerge. Again putting into flesh the spirit of Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm A.-I. Marroux in his Treatise calls the procedure of musical repetition (and therefore reproduction) “a deceptive state of consciousness, which is like an ersatz of eternity” 293. However, although “fantasy” as a reproducing imagination is not eternity itself, i.e. logical in its totality, it, despite the danger of illusion and formality, is another step in the advancement of rhythm to its concept. To understand this, let us pay attention to the fact that the imagination restores rhythms and images from memory, the universality of which is not only storage, but also oblivion, oblivion. In the Confessions, Augustine accompanied his reflections on memory with the argument that oblivion resides in memory itself. The reality of this emerging universality of the imagination is that, as negativity, it is the decomposition of the former concreteness of the image into features raised to its form, and as positivity, it is a correlation of images in accordance with the general certainty highlighted in them. Augustine, by the way, calls the imagining intelligentsia “separator” (separatricem) and “connector” (conjunctricem) 296. As such, it is an associative imagination. However, the highest point of imagination is creative, productive imagination, or fantasy in our sense of the word. What is Augustine's attitude to rhythm in this certainty? So, phantasia (in Augustine’s usage) is the movement or rhythm of the soul, carried out by it in accordance with sensuality and reproduced as it was retained in the “storehouse” of memory. But “fantasies,” in turn, can further generate other rhythms, which arise no longer as direct reproductions in the representation of the actions of the soul in response to influences experienced by the body and imprinted by the senses, but from the mutual influence of “fantasies” on each other, i.e. from the interference of rhythms that converge with each other and “seem to be tossed about by divergent and mutually repulsive impulses of aspiration” 297. Augustine calls this new form of representation a term, also borrowed from Greek, “phantasm” (φάντασμα) 298 . In the treatise “On Music,” the distinction between “fantasy” and “phantasm” is clearly drawn: “It is one thing to discover a fantasy in memory,” says the Hippoman, “and another to produce a phantasm from memory.” To make this difference better understood, he provides the following explanation. That in the form of which the father, say, who was often seen, appears, is a “fantasy”; the same form in which it appears to the grandfather, whom, for example, he has never seen - “phantasm” 299. Therefore, in the African concept, it turns out that if “fantasy” as a reproduction still retains a connection with “reality”, since it is mediated by a remembered image that arose as a result of the soul’s reaction to a bodily influence, then “phantasm” is a purely illusory being, abstract in relation to all reality, since it is the area of ​​“fabrications” or (in the words of Augustine), “as if images of images” (tanquam imaginum imagines). However, in such definiteness the difference between them remains only formal, for the thinker himself postulates the direct dependence of “phantasms” on “fantasies” and forms of “reality”, since he admits that if he had never seen human bodies, he would never have been able to visually imagine them arbitrarily (cogitando figurare) 300. Moreover, he even manages to call such “correct” “phantasms” true (vera etiam phantasmata) 301. However, it would be the height of error to take these “true” ghosts for something known in reality. Being a professor of substantialism, Augustine is convinced that the reality of sensory objectivity shared by us with animals is incomparably more genuine and reliable (certiora) than the “false bodies” of “phantasms” (despite the fact that “fantasies” have “intermediate” reliability) 302. There is no doubt that for Augustine as a philosopher, a representative of scientific consciousness in general, his existence “is most reliable without any mystifying imagination through fantasies and phantasms” (sine ulla phantasiarum vel phantasmatum imaginatione ludificatoria mihi esse me ... certissimum est) 306. However, the truth of such authenticity turns out to be extremely poor, devoid of real spiritual content. He does not even think about the fact that the fantastic (in our sense of the word) as the negativity of natural imagery, with all its arbitrariness, is the positing of a present existence in accordance with the spirit in the form of representation. The problem, in the end, is that although the Hippo man one way or another recognizes the need for a fantastic form of consciousness, in this necessity he sees only fate, and not freedom of spirit, i.e. does not understand the full extent of this need. Having carried out the consideration of rhythm in the certainty of productive imagination, we, following the internal logic of the intelligentsia, would have to move further through the dialectics of fantasy to the highest form of representation - memory in its own (and not in the Augustinian) sense of the word. However, in Augustine’s “books on rhythm”, i.e. in the treatises “On Music”, this aspect of the spirit is not thematic in any way. And although, in one way or another, his problematic can be found in such works as “On the Teacher”, “On Christian Science”, “On the Trinity” and others, it does not receive in them the form of rhythmic objectivity that interests us. As a consequence, we can only state that since in fantasy as a whole the intelligentsia produces the unity of representation, and in memory as such there is a transition to the activity of thought, which, as the objectivity of the spirit, no longer has, unlike, say, the image of representation, any independent meaning (i.e. whose objectivity completely coincides with subjectivity), insofar as it is thinking that is the final form of consideration of artistic rhythm in the Augustinian concept. In addition, we point out that since thinking in art cannot have the form of a self, be conscious thinking (otherwise we would be dealing with science), here it appears in the certainty of what Augustine himself calls the “natural judgment of feeling” (naturale judicium sentiendi) 307. 4.3. Rhythm of “natural judgment of feeling” Striving to ascend, together with Augustine, from the certainty of the “lower,” sensually contemplated rhythms through the realm of imaginable rhythms to the “heights” of intelligible rhythms, we for the first time enter the soil of thinking, which receives objectivity in the so-called “judicial rhythms” (numeri judiciales), and it is through them, as G. Delaby put it, “rationality makes its way into the musical feeling” 308. However, since this rationality, due to its artistry, is still embraced by sensuality and has not crystallized into the conscious form of itself, it has to limit itself to its formativeness, which I. Kant in modern times called “aesthetic judgment”, and Augustine himself designated it with the rather opaque (primarily for himself) name of “natural judgment of feeling.” Its opacity is evident from the fact that, along with it, Augustine uses more than a dozen other terms and descriptive expressions aimed at identifying the spiritual faculty in which the numeri judiciales are found. 309 Since we, unlike Augustine, proceed from the understanding that names in representation are the things themselves and that we think through names 310, we first need to pay attention to the certainty of how in the treatise “On Music” (in which the study of the objectivity of judging rhythms is presented) its author verbally designates this region of rhythm that does not have clear boundaries. The first thing that catches your eye is the terminological connection between their mental capacity and sensuality. Augustine can simply call the area in which they find themselves “sense” (sensus), “hearing” (auditus) and even “ears” (aures). However, we must be aware that the names given denote a sphere clearly different from sensibility as such. qua concinna adsciscimus, et absurda respuimus) 315, and more confident terms consonant with those given in the title of this paragraph: “judgment of feeling” (judicium sensus), “judgment of hearing” (judicium aurium), “judging feeling” (sensus judiciarius) 316. Thus, with its other side, namely the fact that it expresses a form of judgment, that ability manifests itself as the certainty of thinking. At the same time, Augustine constantly characterizes this type of judgment as just a “natural ability”, which is why it receives from him the parallel names of “natural measure” (naturalis dimensio), “general nature of hearing” (in audiendo natura communis), “natural and general feeling” (naturalis et communis sensus), “natural judgment” (naturale judicium) and “natural, as it were, judging ability” (naturalis vis quasi judiciaria) 317. The fact that this ability turns out to be only “natural” and not conscious, and also “judging” (i.e., thinking) only “as if”, undoubtedly indicates that thinking here appears in a form consistent with itself. These are the initial conclusions we have drawn based on the terminological adventures that befell this formation in the Augustinian doctrine. Now let’s try to find out what the need for the rhythm of the “natural judgment of feeling” is from the point of view of the Hippo himself. First of all, he shows that, along with the previous forms included in his classification, it forms an independent species: “It is one thing to sound something that relates to the body; another is to hear, which is the suffering of the soul from sounds in the body; third, produce rhythms more drawn out or brief; fourth, remember them; and, finally, fifth, to judge them all favorably or with disgust, as if on the basis of some natural right (aliud de his omnibus vel annuendo vel abhorrendo quasi quodam naturali jure ferre sententiam) (emphasis added - A.T.) 318. Since, according to Augustine, it is under the judging rhythms that the activity of all sensuality is subordinated, their strength and power are most impressive 319. The powers of these rhythms extend to driving rhythms because the latter can produce any rhythmic action in the body only “by unspoken command” (latente... nutu). They force us to walk with equal steps, chew food and swallow liquids with equal movements of the jaws, and carry out other bodily movements evenly. They are submitted to the judgment of those judging and responding (and therefore also those who mediated their sound), as far as memory is able to maintain their time intervals with its rhythms, which are also judged by them 320. The said judgment, as follows from the above, is that the sensual rhythm receives them through approval or condemnation, thereby causing pleasure or displeasure. The mortality of this ability is compounded by another consideration. For Augustine, as a metaphysician, the highest aesthetic principle is equality (aequalitas). Meanwhile, as he believes, it cannot be denied that in the enjoyment of rhythms the soul is not immune from the fact that it will be content as an equal with what, being in reality unequal, only imitates an equal, for we cannot perceive with certainty whether sensual rhythms fully fulfill their time. Consequently, in such a situation, the judging rhythm, despite all the beauty of its kind, leaves room for illusion 322 and cannot be recognized by a higher court. As we see it, the presented Augustinian concept of numeri judiciales in terms of content is the real Augean stables, since it contains completely heterogeneous categorical meanings of rhythm, of which the subject of our special interest, i.e. aesthetic, there is only one thing. Let's start with the fact that among the judging rhythms Augustine includes the purely natural certainty of driving rhythms, which are instinctive in nature (rhythmic walking, chewing, scratching). True, A. Schmitt, who studied this area of ​​rhythm in the doctrine of the Holy Father, is initially embarrassed to come to the conclusion that Augustine means “a kind of rhythmic instinct in the soul” (eine Art Zahleninstinkt in der Seele) 323, considering such an interpretation a “rash interpretation” due to the fact that in this perspective they cannot cover, at least, the corresponding rhythms. However, this confusion of his is explained, in our opinion, by not understanding the fact that judging rhythms are not at all a logically unified concept. It is clear, however, that with the aspect of their defining unconsciousness they express the instinctiveness that we share with animals; that side of its certainty, by which the inner sense embraces all others, is the universality of perception, in the form of which for us, for the first time, objectivity, called a thing, appears; finally, pleasure and pain (voluptas et dolor) as pleasant and unpleasant constitute the certainty of practical feeling, which manifests itself in the fact that “we desire consistency in accordance with our nature and reject inconsistency with it” 328. But none of the given meanings of judging rhythms achieves the concreteness of spirit that they objectify as the highest form of artistic rhythm. Let us not forget that we are dealing with the artistic spirit, the objectivity of which has already removed the definiteness of the final interest, which is why it cannot be for the spirit something only pleasant or not. Its true objectivity is the beautiful, which, as Augustine puts it, pleases with rhythm (number, proportionality) (pulchra numero placent) 329. Although this beauty has sensuality in the form of its reality, it is not addressed to it, but to the spirit as a whole, the highest point of subjectivity of which is thinking. That is why when the African bishop says that we enjoy through judging rhythms (judicialibus delectari), but this enjoyment is supposedly carried out by feeling (delectari sensu) 330, then by this “enjoyment”, nevertheless, it is necessary to understand not some kind of sensory satisfaction that has a finite character, but the universal and, therefore, “disinterested” interest of the spirit, which becomes available only in that form of thinking that is called by I. Kant "aesthetic judgment". O.V. also notes the “striking similarities” of judging rhythms in Augustine’s “aesthetics of the ascent” and the fundamental insights into this area made by Kant in his third Critique. Bychkov 331. This correct observation is also confirmed by the fact that, just as in Kant, what is called beautiful is liked “without a concept,” which is why an aesthetic judgment is made without the mediation of reason and is not a cognitive, logical judgment 332, the Augustinian “judging rhythms” we examined represent a “natural ability,” “feeling,” i.e. thinking, which in its conclusion is not aware of what mediated it, and remains thinking without discursiveness, without process. But this means that although the “natural judgment of feeling” (i.e., “aesthetic judgment”) measures the rhythms 333, the spirit in the determination of this form does not do this consciously, in a thinking way 334. In this regard, Augustine rightly notes that this ability has already “fulfilled its duty to the end” (peregit officium suum), since it has decided on what is beautiful 335. But in this “judicial determination” she proceeded from “irrational opinion” (irrationabili opinione), and not from “true and reliable reason” (vera et certa ratione) 336. In enjoying measured rhythms, the spirit does not know what special forms they are divided into, for this already shows, according to Augustine, following not “feeling”, but reason (rationem potius secutam esse, non sensum) 337 , much less what is the universal reason for the reasonable metering of rhythms (causa cur ita sit) 338 . Answering these questions is the own business, of course, not of “hearing” as an artistic ability of the spirit, but of “mind” (non aurium sed mentis est proprium) 339, i.e. conscious thinking carried out in the process of “understanding” (ratiocinando) 340. But this is precisely why Augustine’s consideration goes back to the idea that in rhythm there is necessarily an even more sublime region that surpasses the previous judging rhythms. The Holy Father is convinced that just as pleasure could in no way approve of consonant intervals and reject disorderly ones if it was not performed by definite rhythms, in the same way “the mind imposed on this pleasure cannot in any way judge lower rhythms without some kind of more life-giving ones” 341. It is these “more life-giving” rhythms that henceforth receive the status of genuine judging rhythms 342 and form the objectivity of no longer an artistic, but a scientific form of the spirit. 5. Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm in science 5.1. On the scientific knowledge of rhythm in general Rising with Augustine from the realm of artistic experience and his judgment into the ether of science, we are faced with a terminological nuance that requires urgent clarification. This nuance is that the African (however, traditionally for antiquity) uses the words “art” (ars) and “science” (disciplina) in a completely interchangeable manner. Such terminological interference is unacceptable for us, but for Augustine it turns out to be a very common thing, which serves as the best confirmation of the idea that antiquity, of course, did not know our concept of art 343. Moreover, on the same basis, Augustine argues that citharists, flutists, and singers delight the artistic taste of the crowd without any knowledge of rhythm (limiting themselves only to skill as a skill associated with bodily determination, sensuality and memory), unless they preserve in the purity and truth of the intellect everything that they represent and perform 348. However, for a normal metaphysician, such as Augustine, it is inconceivable that a spirit possessing knowledge should stoop to associate itself with such a base imitative activity, which in his eyes was the art of music in the modern sense of the word. That is why, in his understanding, art (ars), or science (disciplina), is fundamentally “reason” (ratio) as thinking that has reached its consciousness 349. Grammar, therefore, is the very form of spirit in which rhythm first acquires its conscious articulation. In it, the previously incomprehensible rhythmic element begins to be imbued with thought and is structured into a harmonious categorical hierarchy of varieties of feet, rhythms, meters and, finally, poetry. Thanks to the fixation of grammatical differences, rhythmic experience is ordered, which makes it possible to talk about whether this or that rhythmic phenomenon is correct. This means that a judgment, mediated by grammatical discipline, receives a basis determined by thought, which is why it ceases to be aesthetic and turns (to put it in Kantian terms) into logical. In other words, the truth of grammar is determined by its form, which it borrows from dialectics as the predominant logical science. But at the same time, this means that the form and content of grammar remain indifferent and abstract to each other. Consequently, in it, thinking as a form is in no way producing its own determinacy, content, and the latter thereby turns out to be not a free product of form, but only something preconditioned or given to thinking from the outside. Since the grammarians themselves regard this content as true, in relation to the rational form of science it acts as an authority, and grammar itself is endowed, according to Augustine, with the status of “guardian and manager of articulate speech” (vocis articulatae custos et moderatrix) 358. In his treatise “On Order,” the thinker argues that in the darkness of things that surrounds us, the path of science that we follow turns out to be dual (duplex enim est via...). It is either the path of reason or of authority. Although the path of authority precedes reason in time, which is why the latter flows from the first as from its infancy, authority is less preferable in examining the essence of the matter 362. The methodology of grammarians as guardians of authority in the rhythmic sphere is to codify and turn into a norm one or another special form of using rhythm (artistic experience). In this simple way, the poetic work is given the immediate certainty of rhythmic universality. However, if in regulating what is rhythmically beautiful, we really followed only authority, then, Augustine notes, the poems would only be as the most ancient poets wanted to hear them, say, Asclepiades, Archilochus or Sappho 363. In this form, rhythmic science is limited only to being history as a fixation and tradition (transmission) of these norms, which is why the Holy Father, not without disdain and irony, calls the grammarian “the guardian of history” (custos ille videlicet historiae) 364. At the same time, the grammarian is not able to explain why it is necessary for this or that poetic form to have its inherent rhythmic certainty. Meanwhile, as Augustine rightly points out, verse is created not so much from authority as from internal proportionality, proportion, or - literally - from reason (ratione potius quam auctoritate versum esse generatum) 365, and this, in turn, means that “prejudiced authority” (praejudicata auctoritas) 366, i.e. thinking, for which its definiteness remains a prerequisite not laid down by itself, cannot satisfy the science of rhythm. A grammarian who bows to external authority can be likened to a bent man with a downcast gaze, who cannot understand what depends on what in the aesthetic sphere. The transition from the grammatical (or metric) form of scientific consideration of rhythm to its musical form, i.e. to the science of music, is not at all just a special, and therefore random, historical vicissitudes of the rhythmic subject in the Augustinian concept. This rhythmic movement is rooted in the metaphysical determination of knowledge as a whole, so it should be understood as the universal necessity of thinking developing its concept. Science, thinking cannot stop at the fact that its reality is in external relation to its subjectivity, and is not its essential product; thinking cannot and should not stop at not reflecting into itself as into the universal from its particularity; so as not to know with all certainty that the latter is flesh of his own flesh. Therefore, rhythm in the science of music is immersed in the depth of its foundation, ratio, in the universal law, in the non-sensory objectivity of which thinking closes with itself. But let us not forget that since for metaphysics knowledge has as its goal the advancement from the visible to the invisible and the ascent from the temporal to the eternal (progredi a visibilibus ad invisibilia, et a temporalibus ad aeterna conscendens) 371, the differentiation of the science of rhythm to the lowest metric level, the law of which does not have the form of the law itself, but appears in the appearance of authority, and its highest stage - music, in which its eternal definition must be found, there is its inner need and life. Therefore, although the Hipponese allows himself derogatory attacks against the grammarians’ metrics, referring to it only as “carnal education” (carnales litterae) 372, he still “reluctantly” recognizes the dependence of music on traditional metrics, so that he calls the grammarians “fellow travelers not by choice, but by necessity”373. This necessity consists in, firstly, not rushing through metaphysical heights with weak wings, but gradually exercising the spirit in order to instruct it in the knowledge of more sublime objectivity, and secondly, providing it with material for reliable proof in the purely intellectual sphere 374. And in fact, four of the six books “On Music” have a more than close connection with metrics, going through in all detail the nuances of the formation and combination of feet, rhythms (in the narrow sense of the word), meters, and verses. Regarding the apparent slowness of the movement of metaphysical thinking ab inferioribus ad superiora in this Augustinian treatise (as, indeed, in his other works - “Against the Academicians” and “On the Trinity”) A.-I. Marroux expressed the reasonable idea that such a method represents a deliberate “dialectical exercise” that prepares the intelligentsia for the transition from external to internal 375. then we cannot know this, but only believe (neque... scire hoc possumus; sed tantummodo credere)..." (our italics - A.T.) 382. Further, the Hipponese contrasts two methods of scientific interpretation of these verses - grammatical (metric) and musical. If we interpret this size metrically, i.e. so, as those not versed in music (musicae imperiti) 383 would argue, then for them it consists of three dactyls and the last pyrrhic, for they do not know that the pyrrhic (as Augustine is convinced) cannot be placed after the dactyl. In the musical interpretation, i.e. “as reason instructs” (ut ratio docet), the first foot in this measure is a horiyamb, the second is an ionic, the long syllable of which is dissolved into two short ones, and the last is an iambic, followed by a pause of three time beats 384. The considered collision in the interpretation of rhythm is interesting not because of its peculiarity, but because it highlights Augustine’s attitude to the fact that he forms a true form of the science of rhythm: grammar, unlike music, is not yet scientific knowledge in its essentiality. Both are the activity of the mind, rationality, and - even more than that - both are the desire to grasp intelligible causes, reasons (rationes). However, in one case, knowledge has as its objectivity that which is unchangeable and eternal (quod immutabile ac sempiternum est) in its purity, and in the other, this imperishable appears in conjunction with the temporal (vero permixta cum temporalibus... aeterna) 388. It is obvious that knowledge is called historical knowledge because its rationality is realized not in its own form, but in external certainty. But this is exactly the case with Augustine in his interpretation of how grammar assimilates rhythm. It is also noteworthy that A.-I. Marru even identifies a pejorative sense in Augustine’s, according to which knowledge [which, according to the apostolic expression, puffs up - or literally swells (scientia inflat) 389 ] may turn out to be a deviation from the path leading to the metaphysical heaven, for, left to itself, it turns into a vain desire for things transitory 390 . It is precisely because of this law, says Augustine, that the feet of pyrrhichidium, spondeum, anapest, dactyl, proceleumaticus or dispondeum delight us, for their parts are related as equals. The iambic, trochaic, and tribrachial feet are beautiful because their larger part is divided into two parts, each of which is equal to the smaller one. Six-lobed feet are the most elegant due to the fact that they are divided either into two equal parts of three time shares each, or into smaller and larger ones in the ratio of one to two, i.e. so that the larger one is twice the smaller one and is thereby divided equally. Based on the same law, the feet are coordinated into combinations, be it rhythm, meter or verse; and in accordance with it, our hearing does not suffer from a lack of intervals of pauses, since it is filled, although not with sound, but with an equal time interval 398. In accordance with the same law of equality, other special provisions (which, in turn, can also be called laws) receive their justification in metrics, for example: the law of replacing one number of long syllables with a double number of short ones 399, the law of the members of a verse, or the law of the distinctive ending of a verse 400. So, due to the fact that the thinking of rhythm in the science of music does not stop at the given form of its certainty, authority, but, starting from it, strives to cognize rhythm in pure intellectuality, in the form of reason itself (ratio), which reveals itself at the stage under consideration in the certainty of number, it, undoubtedly, not only formally, but also actually proves itself as logical, and therefore rises into the element of its freedom. In this regard, however, the question arises: what is the certainty of the freedom that rhythm was able to achieve in Augustinian metaphysics, and is it not just a limit that must be removed in its historical development? 6. Logical-historical certainty of Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm But since this is still only its first certainty, i.e. immediacy, only being, insofar as it turns out to be only an abstraction, the unreality of self-knowledge by a concept. Therefore, the concept in the certainty of its metaphysics remains limited, unfree and does not fully control itself. As a consequence, although the historical form of Augustinian thought is a necessary milestone in the development of the logic of rhythm, it cannot be the embodiment of its perfect freedom. The incongruity of the concept of rhythm in the certainty of metaphysics manifests itself as a negativity that destroys the original form of its reality, and as its sublation into a certainty through which it must acquire its absolute meaning. As is clear from the issues outlined for the presentation, this chapter of the study represents the concluding section; in it, following the rhythm of the concept, from the certainty of Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm, we will try to reveal its fate, which is personified in the German aesthetics of verse of the late 18th century. The need for Augustine's science of music as a certainty of rhythmic objectivity was predicated by our entire previous consideration, and now it remains for us, to summarize, to reproduce this course of it. Rhythm as logical in general has spirit in itself, i.e. self-knowing intelligence. At the same time, as an intelligentsia as a cognizing spirit, rhythm realizes the concreteness of its concept, first of all, in artistic form, within which it is for itself only a contemplating and representing image, or in an “aesthetic judgment devoid of a concept.” In these formations of the intelligentsia, rhythm is still only testing its concept, experiencing its content. Therefore, although art is one of the forms of the absolute spirit, in which the finitude of being and knowledge is overcome, the consciousness of this infinity has not yet reached the form of its very essence - thinking. However, it is precisely in experience as the final relation of the consciousness of the spirit to its determination that its totality is posited for it. Since in philosophizing consciousness rises above the form of its naturalness, “physics,” in the tenets of which it was confused before it assimilated its content, the form it achieved rightfully receives the name metaphysical, and it is precisely this that constitutes the certainty of the Augustinian science of music. At the same time, it should be noted that, despite all the need for the certainty of rhythm that it develops in Augustine’s doctrine, before it reaches the kingdom of absolute freedom, i.e. it is still far from being formed into the form of a concept that knows itself as a concept. At the level of the metaphysics of rhythm, its concept is not yet transparent to itself, because, as we remember, from the position of the Holy Father, cognizing the absolute, the intellect as a subject is pushed out of its objectivity, which is why its substantiality remains impenetrable to it. But precisely for this reason, the formation of scientific thinking we are studying is not a stage of freedom as such, but only of necessity. Necessity in the face of fate, as Hegel notes, characterizes the ancient worldview as a point of view of substantiality, which directly opposes the worldview of modernity, which requires the preservation of subjectivity 409. The point is that in the process of necessity, i.e. In order to realize his own substance, the subject is forced to sacrifice finitude and abandon special goals. In terms of the rhythmic subject, this should be interpreted in the sense that the sphere of finite, special rhythm cannot be saved from passing away because it is attracted by a universal goal contained in it, but unknown to it. If we understand by subjectivity only the finite and particular, and by objectivity the substantial universal, then we should recognize the humility of the ancients before fate as a more sublime way of thinking than ours, according to which we, pursuing our subjective goals, dream of maintaining our finitude. However, the German classic continues, “subjectivity is not only bad (schlechte) and finite subjectivity opposed to the essence; in its truth it is immanent to the essence and, therefore, infinite subjectivity is the truth of the essence itself” 410. But subjectivity interpreted in this way is the concept, which, as a substance knowing itself, is the necessity of necessity itself, freedom. Since Augustine's metaphysics of rhythm was not the point of view of this developed subjectivity, in so far the concept of rhythm does not know itself specifically. This means that the Augustinian science of music turns out to be only one of the moments in the necessity of thinking about rhythm, which, having been achieved, must be removed. However, in order for the process of transition from the metaphysics of rhythm to its more developed form to itself receive the certainty of developed necessity, it is required that we especially consider the final character of thinking in its concept. The fundamental lack of freedom and limitations of Augustine's metaphysics of rhythm, as noted above, lies in the general doctrinal underdevelopment of subjectivity, characteristic, of course, of ancient thinking as a whole and completely overcome only in German classical philosophy 411. Because of the mentioned shortcoming, the logical in Augustine is devoid of processuality, the necessary internal mediation, dialecticity, for which reason the moment of universality in the concept of rhythm turns out to be abstract in relation to its particularity. This, first of all, is expressed in the fact that since the metaphysics of rhythm, as the first and, therefore, only the immediate and “naive” type of philosophical thinking of his concept, relates to experience negatively, although it is from it that it draws its certainty for itself, because it reproduces the content of metrical ideas, the gap between what it should be as philosophical thinking in general, i.e. the free self-consciousness of the spirit, and the way in which this thinking knows its certainty. Science, according to Augustine, is undoubtedly a rational activity, however, does he think about where the difference in the certainty of scientific knowledge comes from? Thus, although, according to the Augustinian point of view, developed in the first and sixth books of “On Music,” music as a science (disciplina, ars) should reside in the mind alone and not depend on the forms of experimental consciousness, i.e. “sensibility” [hearing and vision, recollection (“memory”) and imagination (“fantasies” and “phantasms”)], in the second book of the same work, hearing is considered as a source of definiteness of a rhythmic object. This, of course, served as the basis for the fact that the (apparently) Benedictine publishers of the treatise included in the title of the second chapter of the second book the provision that, unlike the grammarian, who judges poetry based on authority, the “knower of music” (musicus) judges based on reason and feeling (ex ratione et sensu) 413. In the discourse “On Order,” which belongs to the same “early” period of his works, rhythmic science is similarly defined as being equally involved in both intellect and feeling (ista disciplina sensus intellectusque particeps). However, many years later, in a letter (already cited in connection with the question of the nature of the soul) to Jerome of Stridon, dated 415, 415, the Bishop of Hippo, modifying Varro’s definition of music as “knowledge of good regularity,” calls it “knowledge and feeling of good regularity” (musica, id est scientia sensus ve bene modulandi) 414 (our italics – A.T.). The contradiction in the definiteness of music that exists in Augustine should not be assessed in the metaphysical spirit in which it testifies to the fact that the rhythmic object in itself is a transition from the finite form of rhythm, which is present in sensuality and is transitory, to its infinite form as a scientific system of numerical relations that remain unchanged forever. It should be recognized as a problem of “pure” science itself, the universal objectivity of which is deprived of its foundation if it does not have a negative attitude towards its own particularity, of which it is an abstraction. The fact is that although the Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm in the form of the science of music has the meaning of a law for the rest of rhythm, the definiteness of this law is extremely abstract, i.e. absolutely indefinite in a particular rhythmic sense, since it represents a numerical equation 415. But such a law ceases to be a determinate law and turns, as Hegel would say, into “merely the concept of the law itself” (den bloßen Begriff des Geseztes selbst) 416, for there is no determination in it by which it relates from itself to the area of ​​its appearance, which is a special rhythm. The determination that makes the rhythmic law a real law does not belong to it, but to the phenomenon, i.e. sensibility, subjected to direct negation in metaphysics. For this reason, Augustine is forced to turn to sensuality for the certainty of rhythm in order to preserve its objectivity as such. So a paradoxical situation arises of “reversing” the rhythmic relationship, since now it is no longer intellectual rhythm that is considered as the basis of the sensual, but quite the opposite: it is into its sensuality and finitude that the eternal rhythms-clocks are reflected as their basis, in order to thereby gain their existence. Thanks to this phenomenological inversion, which forms a whole “world inside out” (die verkehrte Welt) 417, our vision of the special, the finite, the sensual is fundamentally different from the ancient one. In this aspect one cannot but agree with A.-I. Marroux is that, as he notes, for the spirit of modernity, music is in close connection with the sublime idea formed by him from sensuality (la haute idée que nous nous faisons de la sensibilité...) (italics Marroux. - A.T.). “The ancient philosopher,” he continues, “who was thoroughly imbued with the Platonic tradition, which Augustine was, 418 does not master this concept of sensuality.” This is the negative nature of the metaphysical education of the holy father, within the narrow boundaries of which music could be recognized as the property of culture only if it was reduced to the intellect alone, if only it became a rational, mathematical science 419. But even having become a hierarch of the Church of Christ, the African could not reveal for himself the whole logic of his freedom, and therefore, as a thinker, he continued to remain a Roman serving fate, for whom metaphysical truth would remain even if the world perished (Erit igitur veritas, etiamsi mundus intereat) 421. In this context, it would be reasonable to once again turn to the cultural observations of Marroux, who noted that the science contemporary to Augustine “was a closed science, complete, not subject to change, where nothing else lived, did not promise, did not expect new achievements; [science] without doors open to the future" 422 . We logically justify such a harsh verdict of the French researcher by the fact that, having achieved its metaphysical goal - the form of abstract universality, the scientific knowledge of antiquity exhausted the energy of its impetus, which manifested itself in negativity towards everything special, and had to freeze for centuries, as if it had turned into a sculptural statue. The same Marroux rightly believes that the concept of scientific progress “was completely absent from Augustine’s thinking” 423 . Why? Yes, because, we answer, progress presupposes the authenticity of difference with oneself, the positing of oneself in the form of one’s negativity, i.e. the bifurcation of universality, its “ending”, through which it, having unfolded, gathers and becomes concrete. Finally, a modern researcher of the Augustinian concept of rhythm cannot fail to notice its “blatant” anti-historicism, which is a direct consequence of the fact that it expresses the moment of abstract universality in the concept of thinking of rhythmic objectivity. And indeed, our “musicologist” is not only not interested in the problem of the existence of different, i.e. special forms of versification and does not make any attempts to give them a reasonable explanation 424, but does not even raise the question of the existence and reason for the evolution of these forms. All of these “pain points” listed by us in Augustine’s metaphysical understanding of rhythm (lack of subjectivity, abstractness of the universal and negativity towards the particular, ahistoricality) form a single line of his lack of freedom, the border of which the thinking of rhythm was able to overcome only in the modern era. 6.2. German aesthetics of verse at the end of the 18th century. like the fate of Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm Fate is necessity as the unfolding of substance, in which it, removing the independence of its moments, realizes its absoluteness. At the same time, fate is still only a blind necessity, because in this process of itself, substance is not the consciousness of its necessity, it is not the providence of itself as its own goal. Only in the concept does substance become this knowledge of itself, a subject that remains free in its determination. Like the metaphysics of antiquity in general, the Augustinian concept of rhythm in particular was a necessity for rhythmic objectivity, since in it it passed from an experimental form into thinking, which, however, had not yet reached its concept as a concept, but continued to know it only as a substance. Therefore, the moment of substantiality in his position is replaced by the moment of (finite) subjectivity, I, which, in turn, turned out to be an inexorable necessity of the ancient way of thinking. However, although from now on self-consciousness, the subject, becomes the principle of thinking, the latter does not immediately recognize its substantiality. For this reason, thinking here begins with the I as still only empirical, “naturalistic,” then rising from this “anthropology” of its own to the level of transcendence. Only with the achievement of this stage of a priori subjectivity does the said principle then become so clear to itself that in its determination it remains with itself, which is why the logical is known both as its own work and as its own substance. Since, however, this absolute knowledge of oneself, thinking first becomes generally, in the form of a principle, the historical realization of which is Hegel’s philosophy, so at the previous stages of new European thinking, turning to the sphere of special objectivity, we do not find the entire integrity of the development of the principle of subjectivity. Therefore, the realization of the subjectivity of the concept of rhythm in modern European thinking, which occurred in the German aesthetics of verse, while being fateful, is not yet its perfect knowledge and liberation. When we talk about the historical transition of scientific thinking from ancient to new, we must not forget that this transition is essentially determined by the internal movement of the concept in its moments. Universality, accepted by ancient consciousness as truth, was an abstraction, and this negativity constituted its finitude, fulfilling which, thinking inevitably had to turn into the opposite of the first - at the moment of the special. Realizing both moments of its determination, the concept sublates them in its individuality, the truth of which is to be a concrete universality. How did this logical movement manifest itself in the special sphere of rhythm, which, in turn, had the form of its implementation in the “flesh” of poetic reflection? Let us begin, however, by pointing out two “real” nuances in its definition, which, as prerequisites, are drawn into the cycle of the concept. Firstly, we must remember that before the emergence of the new European form of thinking of verse (rhythm), its objectivity was already fully developed, i.e. a modern qualitative form of verse not only for Germanic verse (as well as the culturally predetermined Romanesque), but also for the verse of other European peoples (for example, Slavic and Baltic) 425. Secondly, just as the “authority” of grammar (metrics) in antiquity preceded the “reason” of metaphysics, the modern European science of verse in the 18th century. first acted in the formation of the normative theory of verse (which in the case of the Germans constituted a special section of the more general Regelpoetik). Regarding the latter, however, it should be said that it, of course, was not just parallel to the ancient metric. The point is that no matter how unsatisfactory the metric turned out to be in terms of comprehending the nature of rhythm, it was still in direct relation to ancient verse, i.e. was his direct reflection. As for the normative theory of verse during the period of classicism, it initially represented a remarkable perversion, consisting in the fact that the rules of versification were by no means generalizations of verse experience that arose on the basis of the natural (native) language, but abstractions borrowed from ancient quantitative metrics, recognized by that aesthetics as ideal. It is precisely this orientation toward imitation of classical models that we encounter in “An Experience in Critical Poetics for the Germans” (Versuch einer critichen Dichtkunst vor die Deutschen) (1730) by such a representative of classicism as I.Kh. Gotshed. After the preface to this work, Gottsched places his translation of Horace’s “Poetic Art,” believing that ancient verses reached the pinnacle of poetic art. However, such self-fanning has a logical and historical justification. Through this “slavish worship” of the classics, through this self-alienation and drill as violence against its naturalness, the spirit is no longer so much elevated to heaven, but, on the contrary, brings itself down to earth, since it strives to realize the universal in its particularity. Having endured this selfless discipline, the spirit, as finite self-consciousness, no longer seeks truth on the other side of its determinacy, but is filled with trust in itself, desires to draw its content from itself. Therefore, the logical principle of the science of rhythm becomes the particular as the opposite of the moment of abstract universality that characterizes the metaphysical type of thought. In this regard, in the second half of the 18th century, namely, starting with the figures of Sturm and Drang, there was a rejection of the classical examples of ancient poetics as norms (i.e. liberation from the “tyranny” of the universal), so that the ancient itself began to be considered only as special. It is not surprising that, having a positive attitude towards the sphere of the finite and changeable 428, I.G. Herder, in his “Comparison of the Poetry of Various Peoples, Ancient and Modern” (Resultat der Vergleichung der Poesie verschiedener Völker alter und neuer Zeit) (1796) comes to the conclusion that a dispute about the superiority of one or another special form, which would establish a relationship of subordination between them, is meaningless 429. Even more significant for the science of rhythm of this period is the conscious statement that the old classical metric is false for the natural rhythm of new languages. Therefore, for Herder, as G.-E. claims. Friedrich, “the traditional relationship between meter and language must be turned on its head. It is not the language that should be the equipment for canonical forms, but on the contrary: the rules of syllabic meters follow from the uniqueness of the language” 430. The indicated requirement for a “turn from head to foot” should, first of all, be understood as a revolution in the form of the reliability of scientific consciousness in general and rhythm in particular. Thinking now starts from the self as its starting point. This, however, does not mean that the self is initially realized in the fullness of its concept. Quite the opposite: first, self-consciousness finds itself, recognizes itself as a real essence, not as spirit, the highest form of subjectivity of which is thinking, but only as such a universality that remains spreading and externalizing without returning to itself - as nature 431. Therefore, naturalism (which, when applied to the field of spiritual activity, acts as anthropologism) becomes the basic principle of scientific explanation. But since nature is in the “literal” sense only a moment (momentum) of self-reflection, through which the self differs and knows itself as a process, thinking wants to know itself in its certainty indirectly, genetically, which is why history becomes the “soul” of scientific presentation, its form. In this aspect, the reflections of the romantic F. Schlegel (the younger brother of A. Schlegel, who most interests us with his concept of rhythm) about the essence and method of scientific knowledge in general are very eloquent. In his “Philosophical Lectures” (Philosophishe Vorlesungen) F. Schlegel divides all human activity into practice and pure knowledge, or history, since all pure knowledge, being positive, is historical (Die allgemeine Sphäre menschlicher Thätigkeit theilt sich in Praxis und in reine Erkenntniß oder Geschichte, denn alle reine Erkenntniß, die positiv ist, historisch). Moreover, it is obvious that knowledge itself (“pure knowledge”) must be positive for him because he rejects metaphysical content that does not have the sanction of the self. What is significant in the position of the younger Schlegel is that he wants to know the universe not in the form of a motionless substance, but as a process, which is why he says that “from the highest point of view there is only One Becoming, and therefore there is only One Science - History...” (Auf dem höchsten Standpunkte aber giebt es nur Ein Werden, also auch nur Eine Wissenschaft, die Geschichte...), according to for which reason all true knowledge must be genetic, i.e. historical 432. However, this direction of thought was set several years earlier by the works of his elder brother A. Schlegel, who, for example, in the Jena “Lectures on the Philosophy of Art” (Vorlesungen über die philosophische Kunstlehre) (1798–9) in a separate paragraph denotes “the concept of the natural history (Naturgeschichte) of art as a presentation and explanation of the necessary origin of art from the peculiar existence and natural environment of man.” 433 (our italics – A.T.). But what is especially valuable for our researcher is that A. Schlegel intended to embody these general methodological guidelines in the form of a natural history of rhythm, a proposal for which he made in “Letters on Poetry, Syllabic Measure and Language” (Briefe über Poesie, Silbenmaß und Sprache) (1795–6). It is impossible to recognize as accidental something that manifests itself again and again under rather opposite influences of climate and lifestyle, with such a different variety of predispositions at each stage of development, while remaining unchanged in essence. But if it is equally unacceptable to reduce that general coherence of the most diverse peoples and eras to some kind of arbitrary, random agreement, then the syllabic measure is by no means just some kind of external decoration, but is deeply woven into the essence of poetry 435. Those. for a person, the rhythmic course of poetry, according to A. Schlegel, is no less natural than poetry itself (der rhythmische Gang der Poesie dem Menschen nicht weniger natürlich ist als sie selbst) 436 (our italics - A.T.). For us, the key word here is “naturalness,” since the human essence, the self, is interpreted by the thinker as natural, which must be presented in a “historical,” or genetic, way of explanation, which from his point of view is the most acceptable because “when the way art became is explained, at the same time it is clearly shown what it should be” 437 . However, this “natural” history of rhythm, proposed by A. Schlegel, should in no way be confused with the empirical science of history, since it goes far beyond the limits of “verifiable” metrical events. Schlegel's history of rhythm even received the disparaging name of “speculative history” (that is, it was “metaphysical”, philosophical) 438, since it sought to give an explication of rhythm from the natural principle of man. For A. Schlegel (undoubtedly influenced by the aesthetic concept of F. Schiller), human nature combines two opposing principles: animal life, dependent on external impressions, and another principle, striving to make nature dependent on itself. The phenomenon of man arises from the struggle between both principles: passivity and pure activity, animal and pure intelligentsia 439. Departing from the animal state, man, through further development, breaks out of it and comes ever closer to a form of purely spiritual (“moral”) activity. However, how does rhythm reveal itself in this “struggle of opposites”? Initially, as A. Schlegel points out, rhythm can be realized in animal form, i.e. unconsciously (say, in the singing of birds, in the walking of people, or in the galloping of horses). In this regard, the German writer expresses solidarity with the Dutchman F. Hemsterhuis, who in (written in French) “Lettre sur l'homme et ses rapports” (1772) believed that “the idea of regularity is the first of our ideas and precedes even birth, because, as it seems, we owe it exclusively to the sensation of the consistent pulsation of the blood in the region ear" 440 . Such a physiological interpretation of rhythm appealed to A. Schlegel insofar as in this way the inclinations for rhythm are retained for the body and through this our sensuality becomes a rhythmic instrument 441 . It is noteworthy that in a letter dated December 10, 1795 Regarding the publication of the first two Schlegel “Letters” in the journal “Ory”, addressed to their author, Schiller even admitted that he was very intrigued by the course of his thoughts and found it reasonable to use a connection with nature in the argument, and also considered it to be very credible (ein großes Vertrauen) to believe that the source of rhythm is, first of all, physical necessity (überal lieber eine physische Notwendigkeit... zur Quelle des Rhythmus machen wollen) 442 . In this vein, the picture of the origin of rhythm is drawn as follows: unbridled, unlimited passion in the soul of a savage, be it joy or, conversely, sadness, would lead to the destruction of his bodily constitution if he did not pour it out and thereby receive relief. Moreover, “instinct” (der Instinkt) or “vague perception” (eine dunkle Wahrnehmung) 443 led man to the fact that he could indulge in these expressions of passion in the most comforting and least tiresome way if they took on a measured, rhythmic form. Thus, “at first, the involuntary and instinctive observance of temporary measures in expressive movements and sounds restored that balance between soul and body, which [previously] was eliminated due to the preponderance of violent mental experiences and the equally strong desire to give them free rein” 444. Further, the expression in words, tones and gestures, ordered through rhythm, was supposed to moderate and soften the affects and became the first step towards human education 445. However, for all the apparent coherence of the naturalistic explanation of the origin of rhythm, we find in it a certain “understatement.” Thus, A. Schlegel notes that although some animals by their nature are capable of producing movements at measured intervals of time, not a single animal is able to independently limit or regulate the arbitrariness (“freedom”) of its passionate manifestations. From this it follows, the German thinker concludes, that only a person feels the need “to invent a temporary measure” (Erfindung des Zeitmaßes), i.e., we would say, to ensure that it is also posited as an activity of his self-consciousness, and this means that this need cannot only be bodily, but must stem from a person’s own spiritual certainty (so kann es nicht bloß körperlich sein, sondern muß aus der ihm eigenthümlichen geistigen Beschaffenheit herrühren) 446 . The fact that A. Schlegel now finds spiritual certainty “proper for man” (and, therefore, forming his nature, we note) is a turn of thought that was supported by the friendly criticism of F. Schiller. The latter, in the already quoted letter to A. Schlegel [where the cause of rhythm is recognized as “physical necessity”, which, by the way, is called “a single act of freedom and reason” (als einen Akt der Freiheit und des Verstandes), and by “freedom” in this case one should understand arbitrariness, only the sensory certainty of the will, and by “reason” - its obligation, the certainty of thinking] although he agrees, then a person’s actions are in a state savagery can be explained on “physical” grounds, yet I am convinced that as his personality begins to manifest itself and reflection takes place (i.e., as we finally begin to talk about a person in his own form), mandatory requirements arise arising from his “independent and moral nature,” i.e. from his self-conscious spirit. Such requirements include rhythm as “a constant in change, and this is precisely what constitutes the character of human selfhood” (das Beharrliche im Wechel, und eben das ist der Charakter seiner Selbstheit) 447. True, F. Schiller then continues that in explaining this universal phenomenon, he adheres to the “restrained” point of view that since in general reason as conscious thinking [“as the faculty of clear concepts” (als das Vermögen deutlicher Begriffe)] does not participate in artistic creativity, reason in rhythm manifests itself instinctively, in direct connection with sensuality 448. But for us in general, it is important that in this discussion about the nature of the I as the source of rhythm, it fell to A. Schlegel to voice its final chord, allowing us to conclude that, starting with a naturalistic way of interpreting rhythm, the German thinker ends up with a representation indicating that he takes the position of transcendentalism, according to which the rhythmic area is interpreted as the sphere of self-activity, informing artistic experience its conditions. Here, as indeed in all philosophical thought, the final understanding that the true substance is the subject has not yet been voiced; and, therefore, also the understanding that rhythm, as we have already shown above, has as its true basis the self-difference of the logical, which is comprehended by thinking that has developed to its highest - speculative - form. However, after the Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm, it was the German aesthetics of verse of the 18th century. became a link that closed the circle of the historical process of its logic 450. Looking back at the path traveled in the study of Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm, it makes sense to recall in memory the most important conceptual accents in the rhythm of his process. However, the characteristic of numerus as the logical (i.e. metaphysical) basis of existence, i.e. as soon as substantially logical, it would be unacceptably flat and would not reveal the full rationality of Augustine’s rhythmic concept. As we were able to find out further, examining his doctrine of “rhythm-number” as a logical principle, this formation was not limited to the certainty of only the objective ontological background of the finite, but was internally distinguished into “intelligent” and “intelligible”, “objective” and “subjective”, i.e. was in itself, as Hegel would say, a “concrete totality,” an “idea.” Be that as it may, we also became convinced that the Augustinian logic of rhythm lacked the same thing that revealed the defectiveness of the entire ancient culture, the quintessence of which was metaphysics. Further study of the meaning of the concept of rhythm in his metaphysics was structured in accordance with the division of the logical into aspects of its reality - nature and final spirit. Since in nature the first logical layer is mechanics, it was established that the most illustrative form of rhythm in this realm of the finite is the natural circulation of the heavenly bodies, which, according to Augustine, forms a universal poem. Since the next in the logic of nature is the sphere of physics, then in the philosophy of the Hippo the rhythm of natural elements was considered, each of which has a proportionality of its own kind, revealing, at the same time, a well-defined hierarchy that reveals its metaphysical character. The study of natural rhythms is limited to the organic aspect, in which the rhythms of animal life are naturally recognized as the highest type. Due to the fact that the last stage of natural rhythm manifests its animation in feeling, it represents a transition to the rhythm of self-knowing subjectivity, i.e. spirit. Taking into account the significant difference between what art was for the ancients and what it is for us, we proceeded from its last determination, since it is in it that the development of its concept is completed. At the same time, we also did not lose sight of the fact that in Augustine’s concept of artistic rhythms the theoretical aspect is most realized, for which reason our classification of his representation of artistic rhythms takes place in the moments of contemplation, representation and thinking. The rhythm of sensual contemplation in Augustine is interesting, first of all, because it is a product of the complex intentionality of the spirit, and also because it reveals internal differentiation, in accordance with which auditory and visual contemplation are recognized as “ideal” and even “spiritual” forms of sensuality, for it is through them that an image is formed, in the certainty of which the rhythm of artistic objectivity is recognized. As for Augustine's vision of rhythms related to the field of representation, it was found that it is characterized by metaphysics in the most paradoxical way. On the one hand, Augustine had to recognize the superiority of figurative being over sensuality as the superiority of the spiritual over the physical, on the other hand, naively professing only the direct method in the certainty of the spirit, he was forced to see in the recalled rhythms, “fantasies” and especially in “phantasms” as forms of creative imagination (fundamental for artistic consciousness) only similarities and imitation of sensuality, deserving only contempt. The authority of artistic thinking in Augustine’s concept of rhythm is the rhythm of the “natural judgment of feeling.” This stage is occupied by a very curious “gestalt” of the artistic spirit, which by one moment of its certainty, namely the fact that it is fixed as a judgment in general, belongs to the element of thinking and, therefore, must be placed above the rhythm that precedes it as still sensual. However, since the “natural judgment of feeling” is not developed in the certainty of its element, is not discursive, and its act does not have the character of “understanding,” in its meaning it comes close to the “aesthetic judgment” of I. Kant. And yet, the certainty that the logic of rhythm acquired for itself in Augustinian metaphysics, despite its universality, was still only limited. We have established that, despite the necessity of the ascent made by rhythm in African teaching from the forms of its sensuality in the artistic spirit to the purely intellectual rhythm of substantial numbers revealed by the science of music, the logic of rhythm is not realized in it in the fullness of its concept, since it remains a one-sided abstraction, which continues to be opposed by the negated, but not removed, concreteness of the final rhythm. Therefore, in the logical texture of Augustinian metaphysics of rhythm, there are gaps of neglect of the realm of the particular, finite subjectivity and historicism. Hegel, G.W.F. Encyclopedia of Philosophical Sciences: in 3 volumes - M.: Mysl, 1974–1977. Guerrier, V. St. Augustine. – M.: Printing House S.P. Yakovlev”, 1910. – XV, 682 p. Danto, A.S. Analytical philosophy of history. – M.: Idea-Press, 2002. – 292 p. Dvoskina, E.M. 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Versus qui in Bibliotheca sancti Isidori episcopi Hispalensis legebantur, et alii sancto Isidoro ascripti, 5, 1–4 // PL, Vol. 83, Col. 1109. The medieval encyclopedist has one more (although not poetic, but no less “telling”) confession. In his “Etymologies,” speaking about “rich in heritage” authors, Isidore did not fail to note that Augustine “wrote so much that one cannot find anyone who could not even rewrite it all, working day and night, but simply read it” (Nam tanta scripsit, ut diebus ac noctibus non solum scribere libros ejus quisquam, sed nec legere quidem occurrat) (Etymologiae, 6, 7, 3 // PL, Vol. 82, Col. 237). On the identity of extensive and intensive quantities, see: Hegel G.V.F. The science of logic. – St. Petersburg: Nauka, 1997. pp. 197–201. Etymologiae... Isidore expresses the same thought in his poetic opus: No matter how wise other writers may be, What Augustine said is enough... Quamvis multorum placeat prudentia libris Si Augustinus adest, sufficit ipse tibi... (Versus..., 5–6). This “internal” attitude is more justified, especially because Augustine himself, speaking about the soul, noted that although it should be thought of as great, still without any connection with the mass (magna, sed sine ulla mole de animo cogitanda sunt) (De quantitate animae, 14, 24 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1049). Augustine notes (again in the Confessions) that he was prompted to metaphysical searches [literally, “to search for incorporeal truth” (quaerere incorpoream veritatem)] by reading the books of the Platonists (Confessiones, 7, 20, 26 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 746. This is confirmed by the opinions of such authoritative experts as A.-I. Marrou, convinced that for Augustine, during the period of his “early” Cassician dialogues, as well as during his later essay “On the Trinity,” the highest spiritual ability was the mind that comprehends divine truth (la raison à la compréhension de la vérité divine) (Marrou H.-I. Saint Augustin et la fin de la culture antique. - Paris: De Boccard, 1983. P. 364); as well as E. Gilson, who showed that for the Christian writer, the author of the “Commentaries on the Psalms,” the sphere of thinking not only remained the highest part of the rational soul, but was the one with which it “clung to the intelligible and to God” (c’est elle qui adhère aux intelligibles et à Dieu) (Gilson E. Introduction à l’étude de Saint Augustin. – Paris: J. Vrin, 1987. P. 56). De Trinitate, 1, 1, 3 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 821. De quantitate animae, 15, 25 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1049. In his later “Revisions,” Augustine gives it the following formulation: “to gradually come or lead through the corporeal to the incorporeal” (per corporalia ad incorporalia quibusdam quasi passibus certis vel pervenire vel ducere) (Retractationes, 1, 6 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 591). The speculative understanding of the relationship between the beautiful and the logical should not be perceived in the distorted form in which it was presented by M. Heidegger, who interpreted the German classic’s approach to Greek philosophy in his essay “Hegel and the Greeks” (Hegel und die Griechen). Heidegger believes that Hegel treated “the horizon of the stage of beauty as a stage of abstraction” (im Gesichtskreis der Stufe der Schönheit als der Stufe der Abstraktion) (Heidegger M. Gesamtausgabe. – Frankfurt a. M.: Vittorio Klosterman, 1976. S. 434). Such an interpretation is, firstly, a simplification, and secondly, it involves the substitution of a part for the whole. Beauty, according to Hegel, is, of course, not abstract, but is a logical, concrete idea in a sensory phenomenon. If the spirit begins with beauty its movement towards the idea as strictly logical, then it necessarily decomposes the concreteness of the beautiful. This is the abstracting power of thinking, and not the abstractness of the most beautiful spirit. Of course, as the initial product of the aforementioned decomposition, a thought arises that is only “very poor and extremely abstract” (ganz arm, höchst abstrakt) (Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 18. S. 178). This duality of the numeri has always left room for interpretation and in a sense poses an intellectual challenge to anyone who puts Augustine's concept of rhythm into modern language. A.-I. Marra, for example, prefacing his wonderful “Treatise on Music in the Spirit of St. Augustine" indicates that he prefers to translate the Latin term numeri (i.e. number) with the word "music" throughout the "philosophical" sixth book of Augustine's work. The French researcher explains that “in fact, the conversation is about rhythms (il s'agit, en fait, des rythmes), which Augustine, in accordance with his Pythagorean aesthetics, reduces to durations, and the latter to the numbers that measure them” (Davenson H. Traité de la musique selon l'esprit de saint Augustin. – Neuchâtel: Editions de la Baconnière, 1942. P. 9). B.B. Bychkov, in turn, characterizing Augustine’s books “On Music” as “an essay on rhythm in the broadest sense of the word, or, more narrowly, on the numerical laws of art” (Bychkov V.V. Augustine’s treatise “De musica.” At the origins of medieval aesthetics of number and rhythm // Augustine: pro et contra. - St. Petersburg: Publishing House of the Russian Chemical Institute, 2002. P. The fact that in antiquity it was rhythm that revealed itself as a true milestone in cultural formation is “indirectly” evidenced by the way fate decreed regarding the body of liberal sciences planned by Augustine for writing. From the commentary that the African gives in “Revisions” to his unrealized educational project, directing the spirit “through the corporeal to the incorporeal,” we know that, in addition to six books on rhythm (i.e., “On Music”), he only wrote an essay on grammar, which, however, was subsequently irretrievably lost. As for the rest of the “free” sciences, treatises about them remained in their infancy (see: Retractationes...). It is also noteworthy that the other planned six books about music, dedicated not to rhythm, but to melos, were also not destined to appear (see: Epistola...). A.-I. Marrou, however, would see in this only proof that the Bishop of Hippo was not sufficiently educated in mathematics, astronomy and geometry, and of music he could only know that part that related to metrics as a section of grammatical science (see: Marrou... R. 248–73). However, no matter how “decadent” Augustine may appear in the eyes of the French historian, he is forced to admit that the “incomplete culture” in question (culture incomplète) (emphasis added – A.T.) was characteristic of the end of antiquity and had “representative significance” (valeur représentative) (Ibid. P. 618). See: Dvoskina E.M. Ancient theory of rhythm: treatise by Aurelius Augustine “De musica libri sex”: dis.... cand. arts, sciences. M., 1998. P. 249. Svoboda K. L'Esthétique de Saint Augustin et ses sources. – Bmo; Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1933. P. 199. As an illustration, we present just a few judgments. V. Guerrier notes that Augustine “took an outstanding part in the struggle of these two cultures, these two worldviews” (Guerrier V. Blessed Augustine. - M.: Printing House of S.P. Yakovlev, 1910. P. 3); A.-I. Marrou says that he realized two cultures, ancient and medieval (il a bien eu deux cultures, l'antique et médiévale), and that we found both coexisting (nous les avons trouvées l'une et l'autre, coexistant...) (Marrou... P. 544); G.G. Mayorov similarly points out that “Augustine is not only a classic of medieval thought, but also a representative of ancient culture” [Mayorov G.G. Formation of medieval philosophy (Latin patristics). – M.: Mysl, 1979. P. 185]. Marrou... P. XII. To get an idea, it is enough to mention that only one bibliography of E. Nebreda (1928) (especially noted by Marru) has almost three hundred pages (See: Nebreda R.P., Eulogius. Bibliographia Augustiniana, seu operum collectio quae divi Augustini vitam et doctrinam quadantenus exponunt. - Romae: Typ. Pol. Cuore di Maria, 1928). Tashchian A.A. Op. cit. pp. 7–12. Christiaens J. Augustinus over (muzikale) schoonheid aïs weg naar God // Augustinusdag 2011. Augustinus: Minnaar van schoonheid / Ed. by A. Goovaerts. – Heverlee: Augustijns Historisch Instituut, 2011. P. 71. I am deeply grateful to Anneke Hoeferts, editor of this volume, researcher and bibliographer at the Augustinian Historical Institute of the Catholic University of Leuven (Belgium), for her translation from Dutch into English of this work. Bochet I. Le statut de l'histoire de la philosophie selon la Lettre 118 d'Augustin à Dioscore // Revue des Études Augustiniennes. 1998. Vol. 44. P. 50. In interpreting the history of philosophy as a philosophical act, I. Bose reproduces the thought of another compatriot researcher, P. Aubank (See: Aubenque P. Oui et Non / Nos Grecs et Leurs Modernes: Les strategies contemporaines d'appropriation de l'Antiquite. - Paris: Seuil, 1992. P. 23). Epistola 118, 4, 23 // PL, Vol. 33, Col. 442. Ibid. 5, 34 // Ibid. Col. 449. See: Ibid. 3, 13 // Ibid. Col. 438. A lapidary expression of such an interpretation of history may be the famous maxim of Leopold von Ranke, convinced that history should “say only what actually happened” (bloß sagen, wie es eigentlich gewesen) (Ranke L., von. Geschichten der romanischen und germanischen Völker von 1494 bis 1514. – Leipzig: Bey G. Reimer, 1824. S. VI). However, what was “in reality” implies, at the very least, a departure from immediacy and penetration into the essence. Fichte wonderfully discusses this at the beginning of the first and at the end of the ninth lecture on “The Fundamental Features of the Modern Era.” Thus, he points out that, unlike the “annalist”, who implements an empirical attitude to history, unable to reveal its internal necessity, the philosopher reveals an attitude consisting in turning the existing diversity of experience to the unity of the universal principle and from this unity explain and derive diversity. Therefore, in the philosophical interpretation of history it is necessary to proceed from its concept as a prerequisite for historical experience, which Fichte calls the “world plan” (Weltplan). Thanks to this “world plan”, individual periods (or, as in our case, philosophical concepts) in history acquire the status of features of a universal concept and thereby reveal their significance (See: Fichte J.G....S. 3–8; 303–11). Hessen J. Augustins Metaphysik der Erkenntnis. – Leiden: EJ. Brill, 1960. S. 1. Hessen J. Die Begründung der Erkenntnis nach dem Heil. Augustinus. – Münster i W.: Aschendorffsche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1916. S. 7. Without going into details, we note that speculative, as is known, has the meaning of contemplation, and, therefore, direct knowledge. However, the immediacy of speculative thinking as thinking is restored, reflected, and not direct immediacy, since it is the integrity of all its mediation, discursiveness, which is why in all its determination it remains within itself, relates only to itself. To be historically accurate, instead of “speculative”, “speculation” (speculativus, speculatio), Augustine prefers to use the terms “contemplativus”, “contemplatio”. That these expressions in the Latin language are synonymous, we verify in the “Lexicon of all Latin culture”, which explains the term “speculatio” as “an act of contemplation, contemplation” (actus contemplandi, contemplatio) (Lexicon Totius Latinitatis: R-S / Curante J. Perin. – Bononiae: Arnaldus Fomi excudebat; Patavii: Gregoriana Edente, 1965. P. 442). De Trinitate, 12, 12, 17 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 1007. Ibid. 15, 10, 17; 12, 14, 22 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 1069; 1010. Augustine himself, describing the process of “contemplation of the eternal” (contemplatio aeternorum), states: “To comprehend it with the gaze of the mind is the lot of the few. When, as far as possible, the eternal is perceived, then the one who comprehends it does not remain in it, but is rejected, since his very gaze is, as it were, reflected” (Ad quas mentis acie pervenire paucorum est; et cum pervenitur, quantum fieri potest, non in eis manet ipse perventor, sed veluti acies ipsa reverberata repellitur) (Ibid. 12, 14, 23 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 1010). Sermo 362, 7, 7 // PL, Vol. 39, Col. 1615. See also: Marrou H.-I. De la connaissance historique. – Paris: Éditions du Seuil, 1975. P. 14. Marroux calls this method “the conscious myopia of an erudite positivist, content with accumulating “facts” in his file cabinet” (Ibid. P. 52). It is worth noting that a similar description of the empirical method was given by the domestic thinker and researcher of poetry A. Bely. He pointed out that science should not be “the history of fat swimming in unnecessary things, easy collection of facts with a shortening of reflection on them,” because then it becomes “science,” “scientific mimicry” (Bely A. Rhythm as dialectics and “The Bronze Horseman.” - M.: Federation, 1929. P. 16:17). Marrou N.-I. De la connaissance historique... P. 44. On this see, for example: Walsh W.H. Philosophy of History, an Introduction. – New York: Harper, 1958. P. 11–2. Marrou H.-I. De la connaissance historique... P. 31. A. Danto also draws the same “watershed” in the philosophy of history, distinguishing it into “analytical”, i.e. critical, and “substantive”, “metaphysical” (Danto A.S. Analytical philosophy of history. - M.: Idea-Press, 2002. P. 11). Marrou N.-I. De la connaissance historique... P. 55–6. Here is what, for example, W. Walsh says about this: “What every historian strives for is not a bare reproduction of incoherent facts, but a smooth narrative in which each event falls, as it were, into its natural place and belongs to an intelligible whole. In this respect, the ideal of the historian is in principle identical with the ideal of the novelist or playwright” (Walsh... P. 33) Marrou N.-I. De la connaissance historique... P. 45, 51. “Quidquid est enim quod sub aurium mensuram aliquam cadit... numerus vocatur, qui Graece ῥυθμός dicitur” (Orator, 20, 67 // M. Tulli Ciceronis Ad M. Brutum Orator. A Revised Text with Introductory Essays and Critical and Explanatory Notes by J.E. Sandys. – Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1885. P. 75). Note that more than a century later, in his “Rhetorical Establishments,” Marcus Fabius Quintilian also wanted the Latin term numerus to be understood as the Greek ῥυθμός (numeros ῥυθμούς accipi volo) (See: Institutio Oratoria, 9, 4, 45 // The Institutio Oratoria of Quintilian with an English Translation by H.E. Butler, in 4 vol. - Cambridge, Massachusetts London: Harvard University Press, 1959. Vol. Πεϱὶ μουσικῆς, 1, 13 // Aristidis Quintiliani De musica libri III. Cum brevi annotatione de diagrammatis proprie sic dictis, figuris, scholiis cet. codicum mss. /Ed. A. Iahnius. – Berolini: Sumptibus S. Calvaryi et Sociorum, 1882. P. 20–1. Liddel H. G., Scott R. Greek-English Lexicon. – New York: Harper & Brothers, Franklin Square, 1883. P. 1367. Ῥητοϱική, 3, 8, 2–3 (1408b) // The Rhetoric of Aristotle with a Commentary by E.M. Cope: in 3 vol. – Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1877. Vol. 3. P. 85. Πεϱὶ μουσικῆς, 1,1 // Aristidis Quintiliani... P. 2. See: Hegel G.V.F. Philosophy of religion: in 2 volumes - M.: Mysl, 1976–1977. T. 2. P. 181; Encyclopedia of Philosophical Sciences: in 3 volumes - M.: Mysl, 1974–1977. T. 3. P. 373,381. Augustine, however, managed to give aesthetic meaning to this harsh thought about the inevitability and inexorability of the universal. A dozen centuries before Shakespeare’s famous expression “All the world’s a stage / And all the men and women merely players” (As you like it), the former rhetorician in “Confessions” speaks of transitory things as something that, having arisen, immediately hurries into oblivion; and that their rhythm (modus) is such that, without being all at once, the earthly beauties, leaving and following each other, realize the universe of which they are parts (Sic est modus eorum. ...non sunt omnes simul, sed decedendo ac succedendo agunt omnes universum, cuius partes sunt) (Confessiones, 4, 10, 15 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 699). Hegel H.W.F. Vorlesungen: Ausgewählte Nachschriften und Manuskripte. Hamburg: Meiner Felix Verlag, 1985. Bd. 4. S. 591. W. OConnor, for example, is convinced that, despite considerable disagreement regarding how to correctly interpret Augustinian ethics, scholars agree that Augustine’s distinction between uti and frui “plays a central role in his thinking” (ÓConnor W.R. The Uti / Frui Distinction in Augustinés Ethics // Augustinian Studies. 1983. Vol. 14. P. 45). De doctrina Christiana, 1, 3, 3 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 20. Ibid. 1, 4, 4; 22, 20 // Ibid. Col. 20, 26. Augustine gives a similar explanation of the relationship between uti and frui in “On the City of God”: “what we enjoy gives us pleasure in itself, regardless of anything else; but we use what we seek for the sake of something else.” Therefore, he concludes, one should use what is temporary, and enjoy what is eternal (De civitate Dei, 11, 25 // PL, Vol. 41, Col. 339). De doctrina Christiana, 1, 22, 21; 33, 37 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 27, 33. Let us note that such an interpretation of Christian love is only partly Christian. More precisely, precisely because it does not fulfill the content of the Christian attitude, it remains “old,” “imperial,” metaphysical. Thus, Augustine, moreover, notes that God does not enjoy us, but only uses us (non ergo fruitur nobis, sed utitur) (Ibid. 1, 31, 34 // Ibid. Col. 32). The latter, however, turns out to be in the religious aspect contradictory to the idea of ​​Christ’s sacrifice, and in its own logical sense it turns the universal into an abstraction, which in its own particularity is only the opposite of the particular, which is why it ceases to be universal. De musica, 1, 4, 5 // PL, Vol. 32. Col. 1086. Ibid. 6, 14, 45 // Ibid. Col. 1186–7. Ibid. 6, 14, 46 // Ibid. Col. 1187. Cm.: Forman R.J. Augustinés Music: 'Keys' to the Logos // Augustine on music: An Interdisciplinary Collection of Essays I ed. by Richard R. La Croix (Studies in the History and in Interpretation of Music). – Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 1988. P. 18; Stoltzfus Ph. Theology as Performance: Music, Aesthetics and God in Western Thought. – New York: T. & T. Clark International, 2006. P. 29. De civitate Dei, 19, 22 11 PL, Vol. 41, Col. 650. J. Guitton even strengthens Augustine's dependence on Barron with regard to the Pythagorean tendencies in the thinking of the Father of the Church. Based on the mention in the Augustinian treatise On Order of the work of the “credible” Barron (Varroni quis non credat?) (De ordine, 2, 20, 54 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1020), which also did not reach us, but was dedicated to Pythagoras, Guitton argues that the idea of “metaphysical arithmetic” (arithmétique métaphysique) was borrowed by Augustine from the Pythagoreans precisely through the Roman encyclopedist (Guitton J. Le Temps et l'Éternité chez Plotin et Saint Augustin. - Paris: Boivin, 1933. P. 105). Joost-Gaugier Ch.L. Measuring Heaven: Pythagoras and His Influence on Thought and Art in Antiquity and the Middle Ages. – Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006. P. 27. De Re Publica, 6, 18 // Cicero: De Re Publica. Selections/Ed. by J.E.G. Zetzel. – Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. P. 88. Commentarii in somnium Scipioni, 1, 6, 43 // Ambrosii Theodosii Macrobii Commentarii in Somnium Scipionis: 4 Tabulae / Ed. Jacobus Willis. – Stutgardiae, Lipsiae: Teubner, 1994. Vol. 2. P. 26. Ibid. 1,13,11//Ibid. P. 53. The main conceptual content of this section was originally published in my article “Numerus as the Metaphysical Principle in St. Augustinés Doctrine of Rhythm”, published in the journal “Laval Théologique et Philosophique” (Juin 2014. Volume 70, No. 2. P. 331–342). I express my sincere gratitude to the editors of this journal for their kind permission to include it in the text of this book. See: Tatarkiewicz W. The Great Theory of Beauty and Its Decline // Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism. 1972. Vol. 31, No. 2. P. 165–80. De ordine, 2, 20, 53 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1020. Beierwaltes W. Aequalitas numerosa. Zu Augustinus' Begriff des Schönen // Wissenschaft und Weisheit. 1975. No. 38. S. 147. De libero arbitrio, 2, 16, 41 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1263. Ibid. 2, 6, 44 // Ibid. Col. 1264–5. Theologian K. Pickstock also emphasizes the need for music to be understood as a metaphysical category, and even directly calls Augustine’s concept of rhythm “musical ontology.” In the case of such an understanding, music (rhythm) turns out to be the “key” to the domains of nature, psyche and political structure (Pickstock C. Music: Soul, City and Cosmos after Augustine // Radical Orthodoxy: A New Theology / Ed. by J. Milbank, C. Pickstock, and G. Ward. - London, New York: Routledge, 1999. P. 244, 246). De ordine, 2, 19, 49 // Ibid. Col. 1018. Ibid. 2, 11, 31 11 Ibid. Col. 1009. Cm.: De musica, 1, 13, 28 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1100 ; De libero arbitrio, 2.16, 41 // Ibid. Col. 1263; De Trinitate, 12, 14, 23 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 1011. De musica, 6, 11, 31 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1180. Ibid. 6, 13, 42 // Ibid. Col. 1185. Ibid. 1, 11, 18 // Ibid. Col. 1094. Ibid. 6, 17, 58 // Ibid. Col. 1094. We use the term “idea” here, of course, not in Plato’s, but in Hegel’s interpretation. De ordine, 2,15, 43 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1015. In the content of revelation religion, i.e. in Christianity, this moment in the consciousness of the Absolute was realized. However, this truth of religion had not yet been posited in reality, in the world, which is why, of course, it could not be the certainty of the philosophical spirit. See: Tashchian A.A. Or. cit. pp. 78–82. Retractations, 1, 11, 1 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 600. De musica, 6, 4, 6 // Ibid. Col. 1166. In its expanded form, Augustine’s “argumentation” sounds like this. Whatever is true should be preferred to what is false. But, let’s say, the tree that we see in a dream does not actually exist (vero), although its image is in the soul. Therefore, this image of the soul is false. Therefore, although the soul is better than the body, what is true in the body is better than what is false in the soul (Ibid. 6, 4, 7 // Ibid. Col. 1167). We encounter a similar demarche of Augustinian logic when he talks about “fantasies” and “phantasms” (Ibid. 6, 11, 32 // Ibid. Col. 1180–1). In both cases, the problem is the “major premise”, i.e. in what is considered true and what is false. For our metaphysician, as we understand it, the subjectivity of consciousness (“soul”) “loses” before the substantiality of the unconscious (body). Ibid. 6, 6, 16 // Ibid. Col. 1171. Let us note that freedom interpreted in this way turns out to be only an abstraction and formality, a lack of certainty, for the certainty of the soul begins precisely with “bodily suffering” (passiones corporis). Therefore, the soul is free not when it remains in unconsciousness, for such a state is absolute unfreedom, complete non-existence for itself, but when it recognizes their necessity, and this knowledge precisely arises due to undergoing bodily influences. By the way, Augustine has another formal argument, which consists in the fact that every form of being must be defined “properly.” According to this consideration, the image of rhythms that slips into the ear is proper in sounds, but not proper in the soul if it experiences their influence. The soul must turn away from carnal rhythms and be determined by eternal rhythms (Ibid. 6, 4, 7 // Ibid. Col. 1167). This means, again, Augustine believes, sensual rhythms in the soul, as incompatible with its concept, are “worse” than simply sounding ones. In this regard, we also point out that although bodies fulfill their nature by realizing their rhythmicity, and the soul, being not yet determined by bodily rhythms, the rhythmicity of the soul is better only insofar as it is more specific than the physical rhythmicity, and this in turn means that it must include it within itself, i.e. it must be defined by it. Ibid. 6, 10, 25 // Ibid. Col. 1177. “in teipsum redeas...” (!) (De libero arbitrio, 2.16, 41 // Ibid. Col. 1263). De diversibus quaestionibus octoginta tribus, 78 // PL, Vol. 40, Col. 90. It is noteworthy that, without changing the essence of the substantial relationship in any way depending on the peculiarities of the religious concept, this same “divine” could, following the options proposed by Aristides, also be called the god Apollo-Musagetes in accordance with the ancient tradition, or more philosophically - the Demiurge, the purest Species (εἶδος εὐαγές), Logos or Unity (λόγον εἴθ’ ἑνάδα), or, finally, a single Logos (λόγον ἑνιαῖον) (Περὶ μουσικῆς, 1, 3 // Aristidis Quintiliani... P. 3). De diversibus quaestionibus..., 78 // PL, Vol. 40, Col. 89–90. This thesis in our time could still find an echo in the “virgin forest” of the consciousness of the average person, but for a developed spirit such a position contradicts its reliability. De musica, 6,17, 57 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1191–2. De diversibus quaestionibus..., 78 // PL, Vol. 40, Col. 90. In his essay “On True Religion,” Augustine speaks of the certainty of the existence of an unchanging nature, which is above the rational soul - God (Nec iam illud ambigendum est, incommutabilem naturam, quae supra rationem animam sit, Deum esse), whose wisdom is that unchanging truth, which is rightly called the law of all arts and the art of the almighty Artist (est illa incommutabilis veritas, quae lex omnium artium recte dicitur et ars omnipotentis artificis) (De vera religione, 31, 57 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 147). De libero arbitrio, 2,16, 42 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1264. The Augustinian texts show that their author generally did not make a fundamental distinction between these concepts. They turn out to be even more synonymous if they are taken in opposition to sensuality. So, for example, he calls the human mind (hominis mens), the soul, both “rational” and “intellectual” and “rational” or “intellectual” nature. We even find in him the expression “mind, i.e. rational understanding" (mens, id est rationalis intellegentia), when he contrasts it with those "parts of the soul that are imagined as similarities to the body" (See: De Trinitate, 14,12,16; 14, 4, 6; 10, 5, 7 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 1048; 1040; 977). Ibid. 5, 1, 2 // Ibid. Col. 912. De libero arbitrio, 1,1, 3 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1223. Augustine forbids us to assume that, just because he who feels is better than what he feels, we can also conclude that everyone who comprehends intellectually is better than what he perceives. Such an assumption from his point of view is false, because a person comprehends wisdom intellectually, but at the same time he is no better than wisdom itself (ne fortassis ex hoc etiam cogamur dicere, omne intellegens melius esse quam id quod ab eo intellegitur. Hoc enim falsum est; quia homo intellegit sapientiam, et non est melior quam ipsa sapientia) (Ibid. 2, 5,12 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1247). De Trinitate, 12, 14, 23 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 1010. This misconception has its parallel in Augustine in the abstract division between such phenomenological moments of consciousness as cogitatio (the process of cognition, the moment of the existence of consciousness for itself) and notitia (knowledge as an object, as the in-itself of consciousness) (Ibid. 14, 6–7, 9 // Ibid. Col. 1042–3). Ibid. 15, 6,10 // Ibid. Col. 1064; De libero arbitrio, 2,16, 42 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1264. In general, truth for Augustine is necessarily something higher than our mind and thinking (aliquid quod sit mente nostra atque ratione sublimius). It cannot be equal to them because otherwise it would be changeable (Si autem esset aequalis mentibus nostris haec veritas, mutabilis etiam ipsa esset) (Ibid. 2, 13, 35; 2, 12, 34 // Ibid. Col. 1260; 1259). By the way, C. Boyer, noting that for Augustine, truth in its pure form surpasses our reason, provides for greater persuasiveness a very lengthy list of texts from the works of the holy father, confirming this position (Boyer Ch. L'idée de vérité dans la philosophie de saint Augustin. - Paris: Gabriel Beauchesne, 1920. P. 65). [Let us also note that the pathos of transcendence in Augustine is not without a certain contradiction. Thus, on the one hand, he argues that the human soul, due to the fact that it can descend, becoming worse, and rise, becoming better, and therefore is not completely unchangeable and incorruptible, is not a part of God (non est pars Dei anima) (Epistola 166, 2, 3 // PL, Vol. 33, Col. 721); on the other hand, he still admits that she can be a partaker of the truth, and this truth itself is the unchangeable God who is above it (Particeps enim veritatis potest esse anima humana: ipsa autem veritas Deus est incommutabilis supra illam) (De Genesi contra Manichaeos libri duo, 2,16, 24 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 208 )]. But thereby it is clear to us that Augustine deprives the truth, the universal, the Absolute of being a process within itself. That is why the true infinity is precisely our subjectivity, and not the metaphysical abstraction accepted by Augustine as truth. It is impossible to improve one’s philosophical “mood” in the Augustinian concept. The Bishop of Hippo himself consoles himself and his readers with interpretations of well-known religious ideas, according to which now and here, i.e. in this life, we see as if through a mirror and as in a riddle, and only then, i.e. after death (and, of course, provided that we are predestined to become blessed), we will see everything and everyone face to face (Videmus nunc per speculum in aenigmate: tunc autem facie ad faciem) (1 Cop. 13:12). De musica, 1, 2, 3 // Ibid. Col. 1084. De doctrina Christiana, 2, 38, 56 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 61. Cm.: Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 6. S. 572. In this context of the principle of difference, one should pay attention to the differentiation carried out by K. Pickstock in a series of articles related to the metaphysics of music in Augustine between two cultural paradigms of conceptualization of music - the eastern, clearly represented in Indian thinking, and the western, of which Augustine is the exponent. Pickstock explains that in the Indian concept of "nada" the main thing is the desire to "liberate" the self, consciousness from phenomenal reality by achieving complete indifference in relation to certainty, which in turn becomes possible only if the individual self is "sunk" in the creative principle of the universe. With such a substantializing, “nirvanizing” cultural approach, music turns out to be an all-dissolving undifferentiated continuum, which finds its expression in the repetition of the same words and generates a trance-like state in the subject. In this concept, both music and the self are reduced to an impersonal, unconscious organic process of the flow of time. In contrast to “nâda,” the Western musical tradition makes its credo the principle of harmony, which presupposes a clear differentiation, structuring and hierarchization of elements, as a result of which only a proportional rhythmic whole, the cosmos, can arise (See: Pickstock C. Music: Soul, City and Cosmos... P. 244–5; The Musical Imperative // Angelaki: Journal of the Theoretical Humanities. 1998. Vol. 3. No. 2. P. 8–9). However, the British theologian does not ask the question of why the principle of harmony as a developed difference is necessary, but only states its presence along with another special principle - indifference. Nor does it seek to reveal why this difference is related to the cultural characteristics of the East and West. We should therefore add: why the logical turns out to be self-difference is explained by the fact that it is a subject, a concept that knows itself. The point, then, of course, is not that harmony is also something that exists in the individual spirit, which is why it turns out to be a “psychically apprehended harmony” (Pickstock C. Music: Soul, City and Cosmos... P. 245), but in the fact that the subject itself, the spirit itself, is the universal ratio essendi of the rhythm and harmony of everything special. And isn’t this what Augustine himself testifies to us, when he discovered that the measure of time in general and rhythmic elements in particular is the soul itself? (See: Confessiones, 11, 26, 33; 27, 36 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 822–4). But precisely because this division must be carried out in the world determination of the spirit, it is necessarily structured into such components as the substantialism of the East and the subjectivism of the West, which reproduces this universal rhythm and harmony, revealing in turn differentiation into antiquity and the New World. See Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 9. S. 48. De musica, 1, 2, 4 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1082–3. Aristide Quintilian also notes that “the material of music is sound and bodily movement” μουσικῆς, 1.3 // Aristidis Quintiliani... P. 4). De musica, 6, 17, 57 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1192. K. Pickstock, studying the metaphysics of rhythm in Augustine and wanting to show that from his point of view, all spatial reality (spatial reality) is constantly generated from something that does not have extension, by a force essentially alien to this spatial reality, mistakenly does not distinguish between “spatial rhythms” and “local” in his concept (See: Pickstock C. Music: Soul, City and Cosmos... P. 248). The same idea is expressed by Augustine and without regard to the special certainty of the finite: “Beauty that changes only in time precedes that which changes both in time and in a certain place” (prior est species tantummodo tempore commutabilis, quam ea quae et tempore et locis) (Ibid. 6, 14, 44 // Ibid. Col. 1186). This treatise reveals another situation similar in meaning with the use of the opposition of “temporal” and “local” rhythms. Thus, he says that everything that we enumerate by means of carnal sensation can, it seems, retain and perceive the rhythms (numbers) of a place in some state of rest, unless temporal rhythms in motion, inwardly and in silence, precede them (locales numeros qui videntur esse in aliquo statu, nisi praecedentibus intimis et in silentio temporalibus numeris qui sunt in motu) (De musica, 6, 17, 58 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1192). In relation to what has been said, it should again be noted that if in the above passage “temporal rhythms” turn out to be a logical precedence (and there can be no other “spatial” or “temporal” precedence here), then all the more Augustine should have thought about “spatial rhythms” (spatiales numeri), which he, however, does not introduce. Finally, the same theme is in a passage from the essay “On True Religion,” where he speaks of supposedly incorporeal rhythms that penetrate all living things and “have no volume” (sine tumore), which “should be more surprising than what is in the body” (magis ibi mirandi sunt quam in corpore) (De vera religione, 42, 79 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 158). Ibid. 1, 2, 3 /// Ibid. Col. 1084. For a more detailed introduction to this topic, see, for example: The Harmony of the Spheres. A Sourcebook of the Pythagorean Tradition in Music / Ed. by J. Godwin. – Rochester, Vermont: Inner Traditions International, 1993. Περὶ μουσικῆς, 3, 20 // Aristidis Quintiliani de Musica libri tres / Ed. R.P. Winnington-Ingram. – Leipzig: Teubner Verlag, 1963. S. 119. De musica, 6,11, 29 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1179. Aristotle's student, the "patriarch" of the ancient science of music Aristoxenus (IV century BC), who introduced the concept of "rhythmized" into scientific use, in his "Elements of Rhythmics" pointed out that rhythm and rhythmicity are two different natures, correlating with each other in the same way as form and the shaped are correlated (Νοητέον δὲ δύο τινὰς φύσεις ταύτας, τήν τε τοῦ ῥυθμοῦ καὶ τὴν τοῦ ῥυθμιζομένου, παραπλησίως ἐχούσας πρὸς ἀλλήλας ὥσπερ ἔχει τὸ σχήμα καὶ τὸ σχηματιζόμενον πρός αὑτά). It is also important to add that thereby, as the ancient Greek thinker believed, each of the rhythmized ones acquires its multiple forms not by its own nature, but from the nature of rhythm ????? τοῦ ῥυθμοῦ) (Ῥυθμικὰ στοιχεία, 2, 3–4 // Aristoxeni Elementorum Rhythmicorum Fragmentum / Recensuit et explicavit lohannes Bartels. – Bonnae: Apud Albertum Matz, 1854. P. 4). From this, therefore, it follows that the “material” has its own rhythm as something external to itself. Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 9. S. 110. Let us recall that the Latin word species, used by Augustine, has the meaning of both beauty and species, which is what he actually plays on. See, for example: De civitate Dei, 8, 5 // PL, Vol. 41, Col. 230; and especially: De Genesi ad Litteram libri duodecim, 2, 3, 6 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 265. De musica, 6, 17, 58 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1192. De Genesi ad Litteram..., 2, 3, 6 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 265. Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 9. S. 142. “Quasi vero quidquam sit in eis vilius et abjectius quam terra est” (De musica, 6, 17, 57 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1192). Cm.: Hegel G.W.F. Werke. Vollständige Ausgabe durch einen Verein von Freunden des Verewigten: Ph. Marheineke, J. Schulze, Ed. Gans, L.v. Henning, H. Hotho, K. Michelet, F. Färster: in 18 Bänden. – Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 1835. Bd. 10. S. 153. Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 9. S. 337. Περὶ μουσικῆς, 3, 7, 37–46 // Aristidis Quintiliani de Musica libri trеs... S. 105. Ibid. 3, 19, 12–20 // Ibid. S. 119. Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 9. S. 340. De musica, 6, 5, 15 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1171. Ibid. 6, 17, 57 // Ibid. Col. 1192. Ibid. 6, 5, 15 // Ibid. Col. 1171. Ibid. 6, 5, 15 // Ibid. Col. 1171. True, for Augustine this insensibility and, therefore, also sensuality have only physical definition, for, as he explains, the mentioned “vegetable” parts of the animal organism are not capable of feeling because they are permeated with “less free air” (minus libero aere) (Ibid). We find a similar “spontaneous” train of thought in his algorithm of how the soul controls the body in feeling. It turns out that “the soul, being an incorporeal thing, acts first on the body adjacent to the incorporeal, such as, say, fire, or, perhaps, light and air, and thus on the remaining, denser components of the body...” (Anima ergo quoniam res est incorporea corpus, quod incorporeo uicinum est, sicuti est ignis, uel potius lux et aer, primitus agit et per haec caetera, quae crassiora sunt corporis.) (De Genesi..., 7,15, 21 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 363.). Ibid. 6, 5, 13 // Ibid. 1170. “...quaedam pulchritudo animi” in the definition of righteousness (see: De Trinitate, 8, 6, 9 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 954) De musica, 6, 11, 30 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1179–80. De civitate Dei, 17.14 // PL, Vol. 41, Col. 547. Ibid. 2, 21, 1 // Ibid. Col. 66. De re publica, 2, 42, 69 // M. Tullii Ciceronis De Re Publica librorum reliquiae / Ab Angelo Maio. – Bostoniae: O. Everett, 1823. P. 78–9. Epistola 166, 5.13 // PL, Vol. 33, Col. 726. Confessiones, 3, 7, 13 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 688–9. Ibid. 3, 7, 14 // Ibid. Col. 689. Περὶ μουσικῆς, 3, 8, 28–9; 37–41 // Aristidis Quintiliani de Musica libri trеs... S. 106–7. Ἀνδρεία – we corrected from ἀνδρία in the edition. – Editorial of the ABC of Faith. Ibid. 3, 24, 40–8 // Ibid. S. 126–7. Reverend W. OConnor convinces us of this in his dissertation “The Concept of the Human Soul according to Saint Augustine,” referring to the corresponding reflections of Bishop Hippo (ÓConnor, W.P. The Concept of the Human Soul according to Saint Augustine. – Milwaukee: Catholic University of America, 1921. P. 38). De diversibus quaestionibus..., 7 // PL, Vol. 40, Col. 13. De Trinitate, 15, 1, 1 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 1057. De quantitate animae, 13, 22 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1048. ÓDaly G. Augustinés Philosophy of Mind. – Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1987. P. 7. De Trinitate, 9, 2, 2; 9, 4, 6 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 962, 964. De anima et eius origine, 4, 23, 37 // PL, Vol. 44, Col. 546. De civitate Dei, 21, 10, 1 // PL, Vol. 41, Col. 725. In the treatise “On the Trinity,” Augustine says that the spirit does not exist at all because it is human, so that if you separate it from man, who is called such in connection with the body, then the spirit remains (Non enim quia mens et spiritus alicuius hominis est, ideo mens et spiritus est. Retracto enim eo quod homo est, quod adiuncto corpore dicitur; retracto ergo corpore, mens et spiritus manet) (De Trinitate, 9, 2, 2 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 962). For Augustine as a metaphysician - and this is extremely characteristic - there is simply no truly spiritual, infinite subject, since the word “subjectus” serves him to express only finite (bodily or mental) concreteness. See: Ibid. 10, 10, 15 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 981 (about the body as a subject); Soliloquia, 2, 13, 24 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 896 (about the soul as a subject). Since the spirit conscious of itself is the absolute spirit, the forms of which, as is known, are art, religion and philosophy (science), it is quite legitimate to ask why the rhythm of religion is absent as the subject of our consideration. In this regard, we note that just as representation as an internal intelligence is the middle between the form of its immediate determination in contemplation and the form of its freedom, which is thinking, religion in the absolute spirit turns out to be a “universality”, a “middle term”, pulling together within itself the “extremes” of art and philosophy. However, the way religion is present, “present”, precisely reveals itself in the objectivity of artistic contemplation and philosophical thought (See: Enzyklopàdie der philosophischen Wissenschaften, § 451; § 554// Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 10. S. 257; 366). We, of course, remember well how Plato already expels poets from his state, since these creators of ghosts do not know true reality and corrupt the soul by imitation of sensuality. The Roman Augustine should have been even more severe towards art. And in fact, he speaks with undisguised contempt about the performances of theatrical singers and clowns who seek the approval of the crowd, money, fame, and do not seek to know what is beautiful as such (See, for example: De musica, 1, 6, 11–2 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1089–90). However, no matter how derogatory the classics spoke about art in its uncensored independence, to a certain extent they considered it as a step in the education of an individual. Music, which included the art of poetry, was predominantly classified as παιδεία. Ibid. 2, 2, 2 // Ibid. Col. 1100. Ibid. 5, 5, 10 // Ibid. Col. 1152. T. Miethe, for example, referring to the work of the American theologian B. Warfield “Studies in Tertullian and Augustine”, reports that the latter’s theory of sensuality was interpreted as “one of the weakest elements in his entire philosophy due to the extremely active role assigned to the soul (Miethe T. Saint Augustine and Sense Knowledge // Augustinian Studies. 1977. Vol. 8. P. 11). He later cites the work of V. Burke “St. Augustinés Quest of Wisdom: Life and Philosophy of the Bishop Of Hippo, convinced that “in the Augustinian theory of knowledge, sensuality remains a sore spot” (Ibid. P. 18). De musica, VI, 2, 3 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1164. Choquette I. Saint Augustinés Doctrine of Sense Knowledge / A Thesis submitted in conformity with the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. – University of Toronto, 1943. P. 2. This means that the genitive case in the Latin expression can be understood as genetivus subjectivus. Popov I.V. Works on patrolology. - Sergiev Posad: Holy Trinity Sergius Lavra, 2005. T. 2. The personality and teaching of Blessed Augustine. P. 246. De Trinitate, 11, 5, 8 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 991. If you like, you can draw an analogy here with the Aristotelian doctrine that sense is like the imprint of a gold or iron ring in wax, which perceives not its matter, but only its form, i.e. perceives “in accordance with logos” (κατὰ τὸν λόγον) (Περὶ ψυχῆς, B, 12, 424a 17–24 // Aristotelis De Anima Libri III / Recognovit Guilelmus Biehl. – Lipsiae: in aedibus B.G. Teubneri, 1896. P. 66). This means that the definiteness of feeling is not the body in its immediacy, but sublated corporeality, i.e. directly incorporeal. De Trinitate, 11, 5, 9 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 991. De musica, 6, 5, 8 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1167–8. Ibid. 6, 5, 9 // Ibid. Col. 1168. Ibid. 6, 5, 11 // Ibid. Col. 1169. “Ego enim ab anima hoc corpus animari non puto, nisi intentione facientis” (Ibid. 6, 5, 9 // Ibid. Col. 1168). See also Augustine’s letter to Jerome, devoted to the theme of the origin of the soul: “The soul penetrates the whole body, which animates, not by spreading locally (non locali diffusione), but by a certain life-giving tension (quadam vitali intentione), being completely present simultaneously in all its parts” (Epistola 166, 2, 4 // PL, Vol. 33, Col. 722). Hegel also points out that although in attention there is separation and unity of the subjective and objective, the defining moment of their difference is unity, and the difference remains something indefinite (See: Enzyklopädie... § 448 // Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 10. S. 249). See: Ibid. § 401. Zusatz // Ibid. S. 102. De musica, 6, 5,10 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1169. De Genesi ad Litteram..., 3, 4, 6 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 281. Ibid. 3, 4, 6 // Ibid. Plotinus spoke in a similar way before, who, by the way, argued that fire is more beautiful than all bodies, and takes the place of eidos in relation to other elements, and also that it, being the subtlest of all bodies, is closest to the incorporeal, and that it does not accept anything else into itself, while others accept it (1, 6, 3) (Plotinus. First Ennead... P. 230) De Genesi ad Litteram..., 7, 19, 25 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 364. We also find the need to contrast vision and hearing with the other senses in Plotinus. In the Enneads (4, 6, 2) he points out that “if what is seen and what is heard are both not imprints, then for the soul they are different [from other forms of sensuality]” (καὶ διακριθείη τῇ ψυχῇ καὶ τὸ ὁρατὸν καὶ τὸ ἀκουστὸν, οὐκ εἰ τύποι ἄμφω) (Plotinus. The Fourth Ennead / trans. T.G. Sidash. - St. Petersburg: Oleg Publishing House Abyshko, 2004. P. 313) (We also note that in our opinion, T.G. Sidash himself gives in this context a not entirely accurate version of the translation: “... and the soul establishes the difference between what is visible and what is heard: [such a distinction is possible] if neither one nor the other are imprints”) (Ibid. P. 306). However, in Augustine this differentiation is carried out, as we will see, in a much more developed form. Epistola 137, 2, 5; 6 // PL, Vol. 33, Col. 518. De libero arbitrio, 2, 7, 15 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1249. Ibid. 2, 7, 16–9 // Ibid. Col. 1249–51. See also: Ibid. 2, 14, 38 // Ibid. Col. 1261. Enzyklopädie... § 401. Zusatz // Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 10. S. 103. De ordine, 2, 11, 32 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1010. We have already warned about Augustine’s well-known “freedom” in terminology, and this freedom characterizes, first of all, Augustine’s “fantasy”. However, in fairness, it should be noted that considerable variability in “fantasy” is found even in Aristotle. The German researcher D. Frede in his work “The Cognitive Role of Phantasia in Aristotle”, by the way, states that with regard to this term one cannot even be sure “what ability, what process and what product this word denotes in each case” (Frede D. The Cognitive Role of Phantasia in Aristotle // Essays on Aristotlés De Anima / Eds. M.C. Nussbaum, A.O. Rorty. – Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995. P. 279). De musica, 6, 11, 32 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1180. In “The City of God,” Augustine uses this term in connection with the teachings of the Stoics as transmitted by Aulus Gellius. Here “fantasy” is also interpreted in an extremely abstract way as “a vision of the soul” (“animi visa, quas appellant phantasias”) (De civitate Dei, 9, 4, 2 // PL, Vol. 41, Col. 259). De Trinitate, 8, 6,9 // PL, Vol. 42, Col. 954–5. Ibid. 11, 7,11 // Ibid. Col. 993. At the same time, the former judging rhythms descend to the level of only the “sentient” (sensuales), which once again indicates that for Augustine, as a metaphysician, the fact that this sensuality is not immediate, but is the sensibility of art, is indifferent. Concluding the study of “sentient” judging rhythms, one could draw another parallel with Kant’s thought, namely with such a feature of his theory of consciousness as the schematism of rational concepts. In the “Critique of Judgment,” the German philosopher notes that if the idea on which aesthetic judgment is based were a concept that unites reason and the faculty of imagination for the cognition of an object, then the consciousness of this relationship would be intellectual, as in the objective schematism of the faculty of judgment (Kant I. Kritik der Urteilskraft... S. 57). Indeed, according to the definition of the transcendental scheme in the “Critique of Pure Reason”, it is precisely the representation that mediates between phenomenon and concept, which, on the one hand, is intellectual, and on the other, sensual (Kant I. Sämtliche Werke... Bd. 1. S. 183). We, of course, remember that the definition of music as knowledge is not Augustine’s innovation, but a continuation of the established scientific tradition of antiquity (See: Tashchian A.A. Or. cit. P. 62). But it would be interesting to compare it with how Aristide defines music. He also calls music knowledge, namely “knowledge of what is proper in bodies and movements” (γνῶσις τοῦ πρέποντος ἐν σώμασι καὶ κινήσεσιν). True, unlike the Hippoman, he retains music as an art (τέχνη) a certain difference from it as a science in the sense that this knowledge can be used in the sphere of the finite, in paideia. It is obvious, however, that the main thing in its interpretation by Aristide is that it is defined as “a science from which reliable and infallible knowledge arises (ἐπιστήμη μὲν οὖν ἐστιν, ᾗ γνῶσις ἀσφαλὴς ὑπάρχει καὶ ἀδιάπτωτος) (Περὶ μουσικῆς, 1, 4 // Aristidis Quintiliani De musica libri III. Cum brevi annotatione... 1882. P. 4). “...in solo animo habitare scientiam” (De musica, 1, 4, 8 // Ibid. Col. 1087). Ibid. Col. 1088. And also: “Num ergo negas omnem scientiam intelligentia contineri?” (Ibid. 1, 6, 11 // Ibid. Col. 1089–90). Ibid. 1, 4, 8 //I bid. Col. 1088. “...ars ratio esse quaedam” (Ibid. 1, 4, 6 // Ibid. Col. 1086). De vera religione, 22, 42 // PL, Vol. 34, Col. 140. Obviously, therefore, Augustine was very critical of the “human arbitrariness” (hominum licentiam) regarding the hexameter verses so valued by him, which consisted in the fact that in their composition, and even more so in their theory, looseness (corruptio) of the rhythmic structure was allowed. Augustine was especially up in arms against the Greek metrics, who, in his opinion, tried to hide the “facts of corruption” in rhythm by the fact that “they did not divide each foot into two parts by stress, one of which is the arsis, the other is the thesis, but considered one foot to be the arsis, and the other the thesis, which is why the hexameter verse was called trimeter...” (De musica, 5, 11, 24 // PL, Vol. 32, Col. 1159). In fairness, however, it should be noted that Augustine was not accurate in his interpretation of the Greek foot theory, the founder of which was Aristoxenus. The fact is that, just like the Latin grammarians and Augustine, Aristoxenus and the Greek metrics divided the foot into two parts - heavier and lighter, which they respectively called bassis (βάσις) (as a movement from top to bottom), and arsis (ἄρσις) (as a movement from bottom to top) (see, for example: Westphal R. System der Antiken Rhythmik. - Breslau: Verlag von F.E.C. Leuckart, 1865. S. 1). Meanwhile, as the same R. Westphal notes, “it is easiest to come to a correct understanding of Aristoxenus if we translate the word “πούς” not as “foot”, but as “tact”, ἀσύνθετος πούς - as “simple”, and σύνθετος πούς - as complex tact. The same thing that we call foot or poetic foot, although it can be designated by Aristoxenus πούς, but still the foot or poetic foot falls under the category ποὺς ἀσύνθετος" (Aristoxenus von Tarent. Melik und Rhythmik des classischen Hellenentums / Übersetzt und erläutert durch R. Westphal. – Leipzig: Verlag von Abel, 1883. S. XX). Thus, the difference in tradition lies primarily in what is considered a foot. The fact that for Aristoxenus there is only a whole foot (ὅλος πούς), for Augustine it is a dipodium, i.e. two-foot combination. See: Enzyklopädie... § 147 // Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 8. S. 287–8. Unlike Augustine (as, indeed, all of antiquity), who valued only the inviolability of substantial rhythm in art, Herder with undisguised pleasure calls poetry “Proteus among the peoples” (ein Proteus unter den Völkern) and is not embarrassed to admit that it changes its image depending on the language, morals, customs, temperament and climate, and even on the way of pronunciation (Herder LG. Sämmtliche Werke. – Carlsruhe: Bureau der deutschen Classiker, 1821. Theil 7. Zur schönen Literatur und Kunst. Friedrich H.-E. "Geordnete Freiheit". Zur anthropologischen Verankerung der Verslehre in der poetologischen Diskussion des 18. Jahrhunderts. // Aufklärung. 2002. No. 14. S. 15. The unsuitability of the ancient quantitative metric for the German language is explained by Herder by the fact that in its qualitative sound it is “too full of accent” (zu volltönig) (Herder LG. Sämmtliche Werke / Zur schönen Literatur und Kunst. – Stuttgart und Tübingen: In der J.G. Cottáschen Buchhandlung, 1827. Erster Theil S. 69). In this regard, the considerations of K.-F. are very indicative. Moritz, expressed by him in his “Experience in German Prosody” (Versuch einer deutschen Prosodie) (1786). In this treatise, Herder’s colleague in the aesthetic direction notes that the sound nature of the German language is such that it is “more inclined to thinking than to expressing feelings” (Moritz K.Ph. Werke / Herausgegeben von Horst Günther: 3 Bde. - Frankfurt am Main: Insel, 1981. Bd. 1. S. 475), which, however, is fair in relation to the prosody not only of the German language, but also of other new European languages, in which the opposition of long and short syllables has already lost the phonological meaning that it had in the languages of antiquity. The fact that the semantic definiteness of an expression has already removed its direct dependence on the temporal duration of sound indicates that the spirit of language, and with it the verse, has freed itself from sensory naturalness. In this context, Moritz’s conclusion is quite consistent: “Among the ancients, poetry was entirely a language of feeling.... With us poetry is only half a language of feeling, and half a language of thought, for it pays equal attention not to all, but only to all significant syllables opposed to insignificant ones.” If we remember that German versification historically represented the counting of words, and not syllables, like ancient versification, then it will also be clear why the German thinker claims that “when we compose poetry, we, in fact, measure not syllables, but ideas” (Ibid. S. 528). See: Hegel G.V.F. Lectures on the history of philosophy: in 3 volumes - St. Petersburg: Nauka, 1994. T. 3. pp. 441–2. Schlegel F. Philosophische Vorlesungen aus den Jahren 1804 bis 1806. Nebst Fragmenten vorzüglich philosophisch-theologischen Inhalts / Herausgegeben von C.J.H. Windischmann. – Bonn: E. Weber, 1837. Bd. 2. S. 214–5. Schlegel A.W. Kritische Ausgabe der Vorlesungen / Hrsg. von E. Behler in Zusammenarbeit mit F. Jolies. – Paderborn, München, Wien, Zürich: Ferdinand Schöningh, 1989. Bd. 1. Vorlesungen über Ästhetik. S. 4. Schlegel A.W. Sprache und Poetik / Hrsg. von E. Lohner. – Stuttgart: Kohlhammer Verlag, 1962. S. 143. Ibid. S. 144. That “there are universal laws of euphony, based on human nature and the essence of sounds” (Es giebt allerdings allgemeine Gesetzte des Wohlklanges, auf die menschliche Natur und das Wesen der Töne gegründet) (our italics - A.T.) A. Schlegel also speaks in the essay “The Controversy of Languages. Conversation about “The Grammar Conversations of the Klopstock”” (Der Wettstreit der Sprachen. Ein Gespräch über Klopstocks grammatische Gespräche) (1798) (Schlegel A.W. Kritische Schriften: 2 Bde. – Berlin: G. Reimer, 1828. Erster Theil. S. 193). Schlegel A.W. Sprache... S. 147. See, for example: Ewton R.W. The literary theories of August Wilhelm Schlegel. – The Hague: Mouton, 1972. P. 22, 96. In addition, as the same Hugon points out, A. Schlegel in his Berlin “Lectures on Fine Literature and Art” (Vorlesungen über schöne Litteratur und Kunst) (1801–4) insisted that history as a mere chronicle is meaningless, and the historicity of events depends on whether the absolute goals of human progress are realized in them (Ibid. P. 96). And in fact, quite “metaphysically” A. Schlegel asserts that “just as philosophy is the history of the inner man, history is the philosophy of all humanity...” (Schlegel A.W. Kritische Ausgabe... S. 190). Hemsterhuis F. Lettre sur l'homme et ses rapports. – Paris: J.K. Dioptrice, 1772. P. 207. Schlegel A.W. Sprache... S. 167. Briefe Schillers und Goethes an A.W. Schlegel, aus den Jahren 1795 bis 1801 und 1797 bis 1824, nebst einem Briefe Schlegels an Schiller. – Leipzig: Weidmann'sche Buchhandlung, 1846. S. 7. Schlegel A.W. Sprache... S. 168. Ibid. S. 174. This “physiological basis,” in addition to the “Letters,” is also given in the Jena “Lectures”: “The sharpness of affects in wild people would be completely destructive if it were not subordinated to natural movements” (Schlegel A.W. Kritische Ausgabe... S. 11). Schlegel A.W. Sprache... S. 172. Briefe Schillers... S. 7. Schlegel A.W. Samtliche Werke: 12 Bde. /Hrsg. von Ed. Bocking. – Leipzig: Weidmann, 1846–8. Bd. 11. S. 193. To illustrate how close in essence the Schiller-Schlegel concept of rhythm is to Hegel’s reflections on the same subject, let us quote the following excerpt from his “Lectures on Aesthetics” (Vorlesungen über die Ästhetik), where he asks the question about the nature of rhythmic necessity in art in the special form of “temporary measure” (Zeitmafi) in music: “The need for certain temporal quantities unfolds from the fact that time is closely connected with the simple self, which in sounds listens and must listen to its inner, while time as an appearance has in itself the same principle that is involved in the self as the abstract basis of everything internal and spiritual. If simple selfhood is to become objective in music as interiority, then the universal element of this objectivity needs to be processed in accordance with the principle of that very interiority. The Self, however, is not an indefinite extension or self-limiting duration, but becomes a self only by concentrating and returning to itself. It transforms its sublation, through which I realized myself as an object, into being-for-itself, and only through such an attitude towards oneself is there self-feeling, self-consciousness, etc.” (Hegel G.W.F. Werke... Bd. 15. S. 164–5). Hegel interprets the reason for poetic rhythm in a similar way: “The fact that the I requires a certain concentration in itself, a return from the constant flow in time, and listens to it only through certain time units, marked through the beginning and end of a regular sequence, is the basis for why poetry consistently unites individual time relations into verses that retain their rule, taking into account the type and number of feet, as well as their beginning, progression and ending” (Ibid. S. 295) Terentianus – corrected by us from Terentius in the edition. – Editorial of the ABC of Faith.