Nature in thee which concerns herself for her own preservation. Thou hast admitted without dispute, that although in the plant there exists a peculiar impulse to grow and develop itself, the specific activity of this impulse yet depends upon forces lying beyond itself. Bestow consciousness upon the plant, — and it will regard this instinct of growth with interest and love. Convince it by reasoning that this instinct is unable of itself to accomplish anything whatever, but that the measure of its manifestation is always determined by something out of itself, — and it will speak precisely as thou hast spoken; it will behave in a manner that may be pardoned in a plant, but which by no means beseems thee, who art a higher product of Nature, and capable of comprehending the universe."
What can I answer to this representation? Should I venture to place myself at its point of view, upon this boasted position from whence I may embrace the universe in my comprehension, doubtless I must blush and be silent. This, therefore, is the question, — whether I shall at once assume this position, or confine myself to the range of immediate self-consciousness; whether love shall be made subject to knowledge, or knowledge to love. The latter stands in bad esteem among intelligent people; — the former renders me indescribably miserable, by extinguishing my own personal being within me. I cannot do the latter without appearing inconsiderate and foolish in my own estimation; — I cannot do the former without deliberately annihilating my own existence.
I cannot remain in this state of indecision; on the solution of this question depends my whole peace and dignity. As impossible is it for me to decide; I have absolutely no ground of decision in favour of the one opinion or the other.
Intolerable state of uncertainty and irresolution! Through the best and most courageous resolution of my life, I have been reduced to this! What power can deliver me from it? — what power can deliver me from myself?
BOOK II.
KNOWLEDGE.
CHAGRIN and anguish stung me to the heart. I cursed the returning day which called me back to an existence whose truth and significance were now involved in doubt. I awoke in the night from unquiet dreams. I sought anxiously for a ray of light that might lead me out of these mazes of uncertainty. I sought, but became only more deeply entangled in the labyrinth.
Once at the hour of midnight, a wondrous shape appeared before me, and addressed me: — " Poor mortal," I heard it say, " thou heapest error upon error, and fanciest thyself wise. Thou tremblest before the phantoms which thou hast thyself toiled to create. Dare to become truly wise. I bring thee no new revelation. What I can teach thee thou already knowest, and thou hast but to recall it to thy remembrance. I cannot deceive thee; for thou, thyself, wilt acknowledge me to be in the right; and shouldst thou still be deceived, thou wilt be deceived by thyself. Take courage; — listen to me, and answer my questions."
I took courage. " He appeals to my own understanding. I will make the venture. He cannot force his own thoughts into my mind; the conclusion to which I shall come must be thought out by myself; the conviction which I shall accept must be of my own creating. Speak, wonderful Spirit! " I exclaimed, " whatever thou art! Speak, and I will listen. Question me, and I will answer."
The Spirit. Thou believest that these objects here, and those there, are actually present before thee and out of thyself?
/. Certainly I do.
Spirit. And how dost thou know that they are actually present?
I. I see them; I would feel them were I to stretch forth my hand; I can hear the sounds they produce; they reveal themselves to me through all my senses.
Spirit. Indeed! Thou wilt perhaps by and by retract the assertion that thou seest, feelest, and hearest these objects. For the present I will speak as thou dost, as if thou didst really, by means of thy sight, touch, and hearing, perceive the real existence of objects. But observe, it is only by means of thy sight, touch, and other external senses. Or is it not so? Dost thou perceive otherwise than through thy senses? and has an object any existence for thee, otherwise than as thou seest it, hearest it, &c.?
/. By no means.
/. By no means.
Spirit. Sensible objects, therefore, exist for thee, only in consequence of a particular determination of thy external senses: thy knowledge of them is but a result of thy knowledge of this determination of thy sight, touch, &c. Thy declaration — ' there are objects out of myself; depends upon this other — ' I see, hear, feel, and so forth. '?
I. This is my meaning.
Spirit. And how dost thou know then that thou seest, hearest, feelest?
7. I do not understand thee. Thy questions appear strange to me.
Spirit. I will make them more intelligible. Dost thou see thy sight, and feel thy touch, or hast thou yet a higher sense, through which thou perceivest thy external senses and their determinations?
/. By no means. I know immediately that I see and feel, and what I see and feel; I know this while it is, and simply because it is, without the intervention of any other sense. It was on this account that thy question seemed strange to me, because it appeared to throw doubt on this immediate consciousness.
Spirit. That was not my intention: I desired only to induce thee to make this immediate consciousness clear to thyself. So thou hast an immediate consciousness of thy sight and touch?
/. Yes.
Spirit. Of thy sight and touch, I said. Thou art, therefore, the subject seeing, feeling, &c.; and when thou art conscious of the seeing, feeling, &c., thou are conscious of a particular determination or modification of thyself.
I. Unquestionably.
Spirit. Thou hast a consciousness of thy seeing, feeling, &c., and thereby thou perceivest the object. Couldst thou not perceive it without this consciousness? Canst thou not recognize an object by sight or hearing, without knowing that thou seest or hearest?
/. By no means.
Spirit. The immediate consciousness of thyself, and of thy own determinations, is therefore the imperative condition of all other consciousness; and thou knowest a thing, only in so far as thou knowest that thou knowest it: no element can enter into the latter cognition which is not contained in the former. Thoji canst not know anything without knowing that thou knowest it?
7. I think so.
Spirit. Therefore thou knowest of the existence of objects only by means of seeing, feeling them, &c.; and thou knowest that thou seest and feelest, only by means of an immediate consciousness of this knowledge. What thou dost not perceive immediately, thou dost not perceive at all.
/. I see that it is so.
Spirit. In all perception, thou perceivest in the first place only thyself and thine own condition; whatever is not contained in this perception, is not perceived at all?
7. Thou repeatest what I have already admitted.
Spirit. I would not weary of repeating it in all its applications, if I thought thou hadst not thoroughly comprehended it, and indelibly impressed it on thy mind. Canst thou say, I am conscious of external objects.
7. By no means, if I speak accurately; for the sight and touch by which I grasp these objects are not consciousness itself, but only that of which I am first and most immediately conscious. Strictly speaking, I can only say, that I am conscious of my seeing and touching of these objects.
Spirit. Do not forget, then, what thou hast now clearly understood. In all perception thou perceivest only thine own condition.
I shall, however, continue to speak thy language, since it is most familiar to thee. Thou hast said that thou canst see, hear, and feel objects. How then, — that is, with what properties or attributes, — dost thou see or feel them?
/. I see that object red, this blue; when I touch them, I find this smooth, that rough — this cold, that warm.
Spirit. Thou knowest then what red, blue, smooth, rough, cold, and warm, really signify.
7. Undoubtedly I do.
Spirit. Wilt thou not describe it to tne then?
/. It cannot be described. Look! Turn thine eye towards that object: — what thou becomest conscious of through thy sight, I call red. Touch the surface of this other object: — what thou feelest, I call smooth. In this way I have arrived at this knowledge, and there is no other way by which it can be acquired.
Spirit. But can we not, at least from some of these qualities known by immediate sensation, deduce a knowledge of others differing from them? If, for instance, any one had seen red, green, yellow, but never a blue colour; had tasted sour, sweet, salt, but never bitter, — would he not, by mere reflection and comparison, be able to discover what is meant by blue or bitter, without having ever seen or tasted anything of the kind?
/. Certainly not. What is matter of sensation can only be felt, it is not discoverable by thought; it is no deduction, but a direct and immediate perception.
Spirit. Strange! Thou boastest of a knowledge respecting which thou art unable to tell how thou hast attained it. For see, thou maintainest that thou canst see one quality in an object, feel another, hear a third; thou must, therefore, be able to distinguish sight from touch, and both from hearing?
/. Without doubt.
/. Without doubt.
BOOK IL KNOWLEDGE. 41 Spirit. Thou maintainest further, that thou seest this object red, that blue; and feelest this smooth, that rough. Thou must therefore be able to distinguish red from blue, smooth from rough?
7. Without doubt.
Spirit. And thou maintainest that thou hast not discovered this difference by means of reflection and comparison of these sensations in thyself. But perhaps thou hast learnt, by comparing the red or blue colours, the smooth or rough surfaces of objects out of thyself, what thou shouldst feel in thyself as red or blue, smooth or rough?
7. This is impossible; for my perception of objects proceeds from my perception of my own internal condition, and is determined by it, but not the contrary. I first distinguish objects by distinguishing my own states of being. I can learn that this particular sensation is indicated by the wholly arbitrary sign, red; — and those by the signs, blue, smooth, rough; but I cannot learn that the sensations themselves are distinguished, nor how they are distinguished. That they are different, I know only by being conscious of myself, and being conscious of internal change. How they differ, I cannot describe; but I know that they must differ as much as my self-consciousness differs; and this difference of sensations is an immediate, and by no means an acquired, distinction.
Spirit. Which thou canst make independently of all knowledge of the objects themselves?
7. Which I must make independently of such knowledge, for this knowledge is itself dependent on that distinction.
Spirit. Which is then given to thee immediately through mere self-consciousness?
I. In no other way.
Spirit. But shouldst thou not then content thyself with saying, — " I feel myself affected in the manner that I call red, blue, smooth, rough."? Shouldst thou not place these sensations in thyself alone? and not transfer them to an object lying entirely out of thyself, and declare these modifications of thyself to be properties of this object?
Or, tell me, when thou believest that thou seest an object red, or feelest it smooth, dost thou really perceive anything more than that thou art affected in a certain manner?
7. From what has gone before, I have clearly seen that I do not, in fact, perceive more than what thou sayest; and this transference of what is in me to something out of myself, from which nevertheless I cannot refrain, now appears very strange to me.
My sensations are in myself, not in the object, for I am myself and not the object; I am conscious only of myself and of my own state, not of the state of the object. If there is a consciousness of the object, that consciousness is, certainly, neither sensation nor perception: — thus much is clear.
Spirit. Thou formest thy conclusions somewhat precipitately. Let us consider this matter on all sides, so that I may be assured that thou wilt not again retract what thou hast now freely admitted Is there then in the object, as thou usually conceivest of it, anything more than its red colour, its smooth surface, and so on; in short, anything besides those characteristic marks which thou obtainest through immediate sensation?
BOOK //. KNOWLEDGE. 43 /. I believe that there is: besides these attributes there is yet the thing itself to which they belong; the substratum which supports these attributes.
Spirit. But through what sense does thou perceive this substratum of these attributes? Dost thou see it, feel it, hear it; or is there perhaps a special sense for its perception?
/. No. I think that I see and feel it.
Spirit. Indeed! Let us examine this more closely. Art thou then ever conscious of thy sight in itself, or at all times only of determinate acts of sight?
7. I have always a determinate sensation of sight.
Spirit. And what is this determinate sensation of sight with respect to that object there?
/. That of red colour.
Spirit. And this red is something positive, a simple sensation, a specific state of thyself?
/. This I have understood.
Spirit. Thou shouldst therefore see the red in itself as simple, as a mathematical point, and thou dost see it only as such. In thee at least, as an affection of thyself, it is obviously a simple, determinate state, without connexion with anything else, — which we can only describe as a mathematical point. Or dost thou find it otherwise?
7. I must admit that such is the case.
Spirit. But now thou spreadest this simple red over a broad surface, which thou assuredly dost not see, since thou seest only a simple red. How dost thou obtain this surface 7. It is certainly strange. — Yet, I believe that I have found the explanation. I do not indeed see the surface, but I feel it when I pass my hand over it. My sensation of sight remains the same during this process of feeling, and hence I extend the red colour over the whole surface which I feel while I continue to see the same red.
Spirit. That might be so, didst thou really feel such a surface. But let us see whether that be possible. Thou dost not feel absolutely thou feelest only thy feelings, and art only conscious of these?
/. Certainly. Each sensation is a determinate something. I never merely see, or hear, or feel, in general, but my sensations are always definite; — red, green, blue colours, cold, warmth, smoothness, roughness, the sound of the violin, the voice of man, and the like, — are seen, felt, or heard. Let that be settled between us.
Spirit. Willingly. — Thus, when thou saidst that thou didst feel a surface, thou hadst only an immediate consciousness of feeling smooth, rough, or the like?
/. Certainly.
Spirit. This smooth or rough is, like the red colour, a sim'ple sensation, — a point in thee, the subject in which it abides? And with the same right with which I formerly asked why thou didst spread a simple sensation of sight over an imaginary surface, do I now ask why thou shouldst do the same with a simple sensation of touch?
/. This smooth surface is perhaps not equally smooth in all points, but possesses in each a different degree of smoothness, only that I want the capacity of strictly distinguishing these degrees from each other, and language whereby to retain and express their differences. Yet I do distinguish them, unconsciously, and place them side by side; and thus I form the conception of a surface.
Spirit. But canst thou, in the same undivided moment of time, have sensations of opposite kinds, or be affected at the same time in different ways?
/. By no means.
Spirit. Those different degrees of smoothness, which thou wouldst assume in order to explain what thou canst not explain, are nevertheless, in so far as they are different from each other, mere opposite sensations which succeed each other in thee?
/. I cannot deny this.
Spirit. Thou shouldst therefore describe them as thou really findest them, — as successive changes of the same mathematical point, such as thou perceivest in other cases; and not as adjacent and simultaneous qualities of several points in one surface.
/. I see this, and I find that nothing is explained by my assumption. But my hand, with which I touch the object and cover it, is itself a surface; and by it I perceive the object to be a surface, and a greater one than my hand, since I can extend my hand several times upon it.
Spirit. Thy hand is a surface? How dost thou know that? How dost thou attain a consciousness of thy hand at all? Is there any other way than either that thou by means of it feelest something else, in which case it is an instrument; or that thou feelest itself by means of some other part of thy body, in which case it is an object?
/. No, there is no other. With my hand I feel some other definite object, or I feel my hand itself by means of some other part of my body. I have no immediate, absolute consciousness of my hand, any more than of my sight or touch.
Spirit. Let us, at present, consider only the case in which thy hand is an instrument, for this will determine the second case also. In this case there can be nothing more in the immediate perception than what belongs to sensation, — that whereby thou thyself, and here in particular thy hand, is conceived of as the subject tasting in the act of taste, feeling in the act of touch. Now, either thy sensation is single; in which case I cannot see why thou shouldst extend this single sensation over a sentient surface, and not content thyself with a single sentient point; — or thy sensation is varied; and in this case, since the differences must succeed each other, I again do not see why thou shouldst not conceive of these feelings as succeeding each other in the same point. That thy hand should appear to thee as a surface, is just as inexplicable as thy notion of a surface in general. Do not make use of the first in order to explain the second, until thou hast explained the first itself. The second case, in wihich thy hand, or whatever other member of thy body thou wilt, is itself the object of a sensation, may easily be explained by means of the first. Thou perceivest this member by means of another, which is then the sentient one. I ask the same question concerning this latter member that I asked concerning thy hand, and thou art as little able to answer it as before.
So it is with the surface of thy eyes, and with every other surface of thy body. It may very well be that the consciousness of an extension out of thyself, proceeds from the consciousness of thine own extension as a material body, and is conditioned by it. But then thou must, in the first place, explain this extension of thy material body.
/. It is enough. I now perceive clearly that I neither see nor feel the superficial extension of the properties of bodies, nor apprehend it by any other BOOK IL KNOWLEDGE. 47 sense. I see that it is my habitual practice to extend over a surface, what nevertheless in sensation is but one point; to represent as adjacent and simultaneous, what I ought to represent as only successive, since in mere sensation there is nothing simultaneous, but all is successive. I discover that I proceed in fact exactly as the geometer does in the construction of his figures, extending points to lines, and lines to surfaces. I am astonished how I should have done this.
Spirit. Thou dost more than this, and what is yet more strange. This surface which thou attributest to bodies, thou canst indeed neither see nor feel, nor perceive by any organ; but it may be said, in a certain sense, that thou canst see the red colour upon it, or feel the smoothness. But thou addest something more even to this surface: — thou extendest it to a solid mathematical figure; as by thy previous admission thou hast extended the line to a surface. Thou assumest a substantial interior existence of the body behind its surface. Tell me, canst thou then see, feel, or recognize by any sense, the actual presence of any thing behind this surface?
7. By no means: — the space behind the surface is impenetrable to my sight, touch, or any of my senses.
Spirit. And yet thou dost assume the existence of such an interior substance, which, nevertheless, thou canst not perceive?
/. I confess it, and my astonishment increases.
Spirit. What then is this something which thou imaginest to be behind the surface?
7. Well — I suppose something similar to the surface,— something tangible.
Spirit. We must ascertain this more distinctly.
Canst thou divide the mass of which thou imaginest the body to consist?
/. I can divide it to infinity; — I do not mean with instruments, but in thought. No possible part is the smallest, so that it cannot again be divided.
Spirit. And in this division dost thou ever arrive at a portion of which thou canst suppose that it is no longer perceptible in itself to sight, touch, &c.; — in itself I say, besides being imperceptible to thy own particular organs of sense?
7. By no means.
Spirit. Visible, perceptible, absolutely? — or with certain properties of colour, smoothness, roughness, and the like?
/. In the latter way. Nothing is visible or perceptible absolutely, because there is no absolute sense of sight or touch.
Spirit. Then thou dost but spread through the whole mass thy own sensibility, that which is already familiar to thee, — visibility as coloured, tangibility as rough, smooth, or the like; and after all it is this sensibility itself of which alone thou art sensible? Or dost thou find it otherwise?
/. By no means: what thou sayest follows from what I have already understood and admitted.
Spirit. And yet thou dost perceive nothing behind the surface, and hast perceived nothing there?
/. Were I to break through it, I should perceive something.
Spirit. So much therefore thou knowest beforehand. And this infinite divisibility, in which, as thou maintainest, thou canst never arrive at anything absolutely imperceptible, thou hast never carried it out, nor canst thou do so?
/. I cannot carry it out.
Spirit. To a sensation, therefore, which thou hast really had, thou addest in imagination another which thou hast not had?
I. I am sensible only of that which I attribute to the surface; I am not sensible of what lies behind it, and yet I assume the existence of something there which might be perceived. Yes, I must admit what thou sayest.
Spirit. And the actual sensation is in part found to correspond with what thou hast thus pre-supposed?
I. When I break through the surface of a body, I do indeed find beneath it something perceptible, as I pre-supposed. Yes, I must admit this also.
Spirit. Partly, however, thou hast maintained that there is something beyond sensation, which cannot become apparent to any actual perception.
/. I maintain, that were I to divide a corporeal mass to infinity, I could never come to any part which is in itself imperceptible; although I admit that I can never make the experiment, — can never practically carry out the division of a corporeal mass to infinity. Yes, I must agree with thee in this also.
Spirit. Thus there is nothing remaining of the object but what is perceptible, — what is a property or attribute; — this perceptibility thou extendest through a continuous space which is divisible to infinity; and the true substratum or supporter of the attributes of things which thou hast sought is, therefore, only the space which is thus filled?
/. Although I cannot be satisfied with this, but feel that I must still suppose in the object something more than this perceptibility and the space which it fills, yet I cannot point out this something, and I must there- SO THE VOCATION OF MAN.
fore confess that I have hitherto been unable to discover any substratum but space itself.
Spirit. Always confess whatever thou perceivest to be true. The present obscurities will gradually become clear, and the unknown will be made known. Space itself, however, is not perceived; and thou canst not understand how thou hast obtained this conception, or why thou extendest throughout it this property of perceptibility?
/. It is so.
Spirit. As little dost thou understand how thou hast obtained even this conception of a perceptibility out of thyself, since thou really perceivest only thine own sensation in thyself, not as the property of an external thing, but as an affection of thine own being.
/. So it is. I see clearly that I really perceive only my own state, and not the object; that I neither see, feel, nor hear this object; but that, on the contrary, precisely there where the object should be, all seeing, feeling, and so forth, comes to an end.
But I have a presentiment. Sensations, as affections of myself, have no extension whatever, but are simple states; in their differences they are not contiguous to each other in space, but successive to each other in time. Nevertheless, I do extend them in space. May it not be by means of this extension, and simultaneously with it, that what is properly only my own feeling or sensation becomes changed for me into a perceptible something out of myself; and may not this be the precise point at which there arises within me a consciousness of the external object?
Spirit. This conjecture may be confirmed. But could we raise it immediately to a conviction, we should thereby attain to no complete insight, for this higher question would still remain to be answered, — How dost thou first come to extend sensation through space? Let us then proceed at once to this question; and let us propound it more generally — I have my reasons for doing so — in the following manner: — How is it, that, with thy consciousness, which is but an immediate consciousness of thyself, thou proceedest out of thyself; and to the sensation which thou dost perceive, superaddest an object perceived and perceptible, which yet thou dost not perceive?
/. Sweet or bitter, fragrant or ill-scented, rough or smooth, cold or warm, — these qualities, when applied to things, signify whatever excites in me this or that taste, smell, or other sensation. It is the same with respect to sounds. A relation to myself is always indicated and it never occurs to me that the sweet or bitter taste, the pleasant or unpleasant smell, lies in the thing itself; — it lies in me, and it only appears to be excited by the object. It seems indeed to be otherwise with the sensations of sight, — with colours, for example, which may not be pure sensations, but a sort of intermediate affections; yet when we consider it strictly, red, and the others, means nothing more than what produces in me a certain sensation of sight. This leads me to understand how it is that I attain to a knowledge of things out of myself. I am affected in a particular manner — this I know absolutely; — this affection must have a foundation; this foundation is not in myself and therefore must be out of myself; — thus I reason rapidly and unconsciously, and forthwith assume the existence of such a foundation, — namely, the object. This foundation must be one by which the particular affection in question may be explained;— I am affected in the manner which I call a sweet taste, the object must therefore be of a kind to excite a sweet taste, or more briefly, must. itself be sweet. In this way I determine the character of the object.
Spirit. There may be some truth in what thou sayest, although it is not the whole truth which might be said upon the subject. How this stands we shall undoubtedly discover in due time. Since, however, it cannot be denied that in other cases thou dost discover some truth by means of this principle of causality, — so I term the doctrine which thou hast just asserted, that everything (in this case thy affection) must have a foundation or cause, — since this, I say, cannot be denied, it may not be superfluous to learn strictly to understand this procedure, and to make it perfectly clear to ourselves what it is thou really dost when thou adoptest it. Let us suppose, in the meantime, that thy statement is perfectly correct, that it is by an unconscious act of reasoning, from the effect to the cause, that thou first comest to assume the existence of an outward object; — what then was it which thou wert here conscious of perceiving?
/. That I was affected in a certain manner.
Spirit. But of an object, affecting thee in a certain manner, thou wert not conscious, at least not as a perception?
/. By no means. I have already admitted this.
Spirit. Then, by this principle of causality, thou addest to a knowledge which thou hast, another which thou hast not?
/. Thy words are strange.
Spirit. Perhaps I may succeed in removing this strangeness. But let my words appear to thee as they may. They ought only to lead thee to produce in thine own mind the same thought that I have produced in mine; not serve thee as a text-book which thou hast only to repeat. When thou hast the thought itself firmly and clearly in thy grasp, then express it as thou wilt, and with as much variety as thou wilt, and be sure that thou wilt always express it well.
How, and by what means, knowest thou of this affection of thyself?
/. It would be difficult to answer thee in words: — Because my consciousness, as a subjective attribute, as the determination of my being in so far as I am an intelligence, proceeds directly upon the existence of this affection as its. object, as that of which I am conscious, and is inseparable from it; — because I am possessed of consciousness at all only in so far as I am cognisant of such an affection — cognisant of it absolutely, just as I am cognisant of my own existence.
Spirit. Thou hast therefore an organ, — consciousness itself, — whereby thou perceivest such an affection of thyself?
/. Yes.
Spirit. But an organ whereby thou perceivest the object itself, thou hast not?
/. Since thou hast convinced me that I neither see nor feel the object itself nor apprehend it by any external sense, I find myself compelled to confess that I have no such organ.
Spirit. Bethink thee well of this. It may be turned against thee that thou hast made me this admission. What then is thy external sense at all, and how canst thou call it external, if it have no reference to any external object, and be not the organ whereby thou hast any knowledge of such?
/. I desire truth, and trouble myself little about what may be turned against me. I distinguish absolutely because I do distinguish them, green, sweet, red, smooth, bitter, fragrant, rough, ill-scented, the sound of a violin and of a trumpet. Among these sensations I place some in a certain relation of likeness to each other, although in other respects I distinguish them from each other; thus I find green and red, sweet and bitter, rough and smooth, &c., to have a certain relation of similarity to each other, and this similarity I feel to be respectively one of sight, taste, touch, &c. Sight, taste, and so forth, are not indeed in themselves actual sensations, for I never see or feel absolutely, as thou hast previously remarked, but always see red or green, taste sweet or bitter, &c. Sight, taste, and the like, are only higher definitions of actual sensations; they are classes to which I refer these latter, not by arbitrary arrangement, but guided by the immediate sensation itself. I see in them therefore not external senses, but only particular definitions of the objects of the inward sense, of my own states or affections. How they become external senses, or, more strictly speaking, how I come to regard them as such, and so to name them, is now the question. I do not take back my admission that I have no organ for the object itself.
Spirit. Yet thou speakest of objects as if thou didst really know of their existence, and hadst an organ for such knowledge?
/. Yes.
Spirit. And this thou dost, according to thy previous assumption, in consequence of the knowledge which thou dost really possess, and for which thou hast an organ, and on account of this knowledge?
/. It is so.
Spirit. Thy real knowledge, that of thy sensations or affections, is to thee like an imperfect knowledge, which, as thou sayest, requires to be completed by another. This other new knowledge thou conceivest and describest to thyself, — not as something which thou hast, for thou hast it not, — but as something which thou shouldst have, over and above thy actual knowledge, if thou hadst an organ wherewith to apprehend it. " I know nothing indeed," thou seemest to say, " of things in themselves, but such things there must be; if I could but find them, they are to be found." Thou supposest another organ, which indeed is not thine, and this thou employest upon them, and thereby apprehendest them, — of course in thought only. Strictly speaking, thou hast no consciousness of things, but only a consciousness (produced by a procession out of thy actual consciousness by means of the principal of casualty) of a consciousness of things (such as ought to be, such as of necessity must be, although not accessible to thee); and now thou wilt perceive that, in the supposition thou hast made, thou hast added to a knowledge which thou hast, another which thou hast not.
/. I must admit this.