 As for applied ethics, it is in the same position as any other practical science in that its degree of certainty is dependent upon contingent and unknown circumstances as well as upon actions’ effects that cannot be foreseen with certainty. The minor premise of the practical syllogism, determining what we should do in practice, i.e., in the case before us, runs through all levels of probability. Then, too, there is the possibility that the obligatoriness of some higher-level duty stands in the way of the application of a lower-level duty but that, given the situation, this fact escapes “the sharpest attention.” Indeed, what mortal, Mendelssohn asks, can be certain that his action is the best that he can do? In most cases, “conscience and a fortunate sense for the truth (bon-sens)” must stand in for reason. Like taste in regard to beauty and its opposite, conscience and a sense for truth are capacities, developed over time, of correctly distinguishing good and evil, true and false respectively without the benefit of extensive reflection and on the basis of inferences that are less than clear. Despite the fogginess of its inferences, “this inner feeling,” this sense for the good and the true, acts on us according to universal principles that, through constant practice, have been incorporated into our temperament and accordingly influence our desires far more than the clearest rational inferences that may convince but fail to stir us. Coupled with the acknowledgment of the lack of the appropriate distinct concepts for the particular application, this recourse to conscience as a feeling suggests a further sharp break with the rationalism of Wolff and his followers (Klemme 298f).